Two Worlds (Star Trek)

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Prologue​

AD 2378

Annika scrunched up her eyes at the insistent beeping from her bedside terminal, until she finally couldn’t resist waking up anymore. Blinking her eyes in the darkness of her cabin, it only took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the minimal light available, and simultaneously rolling to one side on an elbow while pushing back her sheets, punched at the glowing icon on her terminal.

“Annika, here.” She said, rubbing at her eyes as the holographic display lit up, though at audio-only to preserve her dignity.

“Sorry to disturb your sleep, captain.” The voice of her XO came through the channel. “But we’re picking up a subspace distress signal not far from where we are now.”

“How far?” Annika asked, already getting up from bed and stretching her limbs to shake the remaining sleepiness off.

“Approximately fifteen parsecs,” the XO answered. “But that number increases with every second. It looks like whoever's sending the distress signal is travelling at warp.”

Annika hummed at that, heading to her cabin’s toilet to freshen up. It wouldn’t do to go on the bridge all haggard, even if she was in uniform. Fortunately, there was also a terminal built into the wall next to the sink, so she could continue the conversation while washing up.

“Anything on sensors?” Annika asked.

“We’re scanning as we speak,” the XO continued while she washed her face. “But we’re still too far, and like I said, whoever is sending the signal is travelling at warp.”

“…go to yellow alert.” Annika immediately ordered before wiping her face with a towel. “Put us on intercept course, Warp 2. I’ll be up on the bridge as soon as I can.”

“Yes, captain.”

Annika sighed as the channel closed, and then filled a glass with water to rinse her mouth with. “So much for a quiet border patrol,” she thought while rinsing her mouth. “Then again, Breen space is only some parsecs away. Damn coldblooded bastards…not even ten years after the end of the war, and they’re already pushing our buttons.”

Spitting out the water in her mouth, Annika wiped at her mouth with a towel before taking a brush to straighten out her hair. Leaving the toilet afterwards, she grabbed her uniform jacket and trousers off a ready rack, pulling the latter on first before putting on her boots, and then left her cabin while pulling on her jacket and pinning it in place.

“Now then,” she thought as she proceeded at a quick pace down the corridor, and waving off crewmembers saluting her as she passed. “Time to be heroes.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Captain on the bridge!” the yeoman on duty shouted as Annika stepped off the turbolift, and proceeded to the command chair in the middle of the bridge.

“At ease.” Annika said while taking her seat. “Jut, what’s the situation?”

“We’re closing in as we speak.” Commander Jut Ganac, Annika’s XO, replied while turning his seat at the front of the bridge to address her directly. “But while we’re still too far to get detailed readings from our sensors, though as we close in we’re getting more details from the distress signal.”

Annika blinked at that, and then narrowed her eyes. “Someone’s trying to jam the signal?” she asked.

“Afraid so, captain.” Jut said with a nod. “As for the details…it’s a freighter by the name of the Yoshiko Maru, and they claim to be carrying refugees from a colony in the Bajoran DMZ. Also, the ones attacking them…? It’s the Dominion.”

“How the hell…?” Annika asked in surprise. “This far from the DMZ…? And why now?”

“I don’t know, captain.” Jut said with a shrug. “But we’ll only be able to figure it out once we get there and see for ourselves.”

“Well said,” Annika said with a nod. “Red alert: shields up, all hands to general quarters, and standby on phasers and quantum torpedoes.”

Immediately the bridge lights dropped to battle settings, and sirens rang across the ship to sound the crew to general quarters. The bridge crew were already in their safety harnesses, and moments later, the tactical officer spoke up.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Morgan Melendez began. “All sections report general quarters.”

“Understood,” Annika said with a nod. “Vasror, bring us to Warp 5. Put us right on top of those Jem’Hadar bastards!”

“Aye, captain.” Lieutenant Vasror said. “Bringing is up to Warp 5.”

“Captain,” the sensor officer, Lieutenant Benjamin Saul, warned. “I’m reading the Yoshiko Maru and the pursuing Dominion vessels have dropped out of warp.”

“The Jem’Hadar must have knocked out the Yoshiko Maru’s engines.” Jut said. “They’re probably being boarded by now!”

“Vasror!” Annika barked, but the helmsman was already on it, piloting the Seoul to the battlefield. It took just over a minute, and then the Seoul was dropping out of warp. Annika’s eyes were immediately drawn to the stricken freighter-turned-refugee ship in the middle of a trio of Dominion vessels, plasma venting in streams from molten gashes cut into the ship’s rear, its engines dark and lifeless.

Then her eyes turned to the three Dominion vessels, which she immediately recognized as Jem’Hadar Battlecruisers. “Hail them.” Annika ordered even as the three battlecruisers broke formation and moved to swarm her ship.

“Captain, they’re moving to surround us.” Jut warned.

“Vasror,” Annika ordered. “Take evasive action. Zhessesi, anything?”

Ensign Zhessesi turned from the communications console. “No response,” she said. “But I’ve got a channel open.”

“Dominion vessels,” Annika said loudly and firmly. “This is Captain Annika von Kreutzer of the Federation Cruiser Seoul. You are trespassing and committing hostile action in Federation space in violation of the Treaty of Bajor. Stand down, and prepare to be…”

Annika broke off as the Seoul shook, Dominion polaron beams hammering at her shields. “Taking evasive pattern Delta-Nine.” Vasror reported from the helm.

“…so it’s a fight they want.” Annika growled. “Return fire with phasers, and find me the enemy’s shield modulations!”

The Seoul rolled and banked across the battlefield, polaron beams and disruptor rounds flashing through space to either splatter against her shields or fly harmlessly into the void. Then orange light lanced through space as the Seoul returned fire, splattering against the Dominion vessels’ shields.

Torpedoes flashed through space in response, and the Seoul’s point-defense guns came to life, burst phasers sending orange pulses stitching across space. Explosions tore through space as the Dominion torpedoes were shot down, but the Seoul shook as the energy surges hammered at her shields.

“Shields holding at eight-three per cent!” Melendez warned, only for the ship to shake again at another hit. “Correction: shields at seventy-seven per cent!”

“Fire a torpedo spread!” Annika barked. “Give them something to worry about! Targeting pattern, Echo-Five!”

Blue light flashed through space as the Seoul let loose a volley of quantum torpedoes, the Dominion vessels nimbly attempting to evade, but more than half still struck true. The shields of two battlecruisers held, but the shields on the third ship weren’t so sturdy, and phaser strikes sheared one of her wings off.

It returned fire with torpedoes, but the Seoul evaded nimbly. Then she returned fire, and taking out the Dominion vessel’s main engines.

“Fire a tricobalt device.” Annika spat.

Melendez complied, and though the crippled battlecruiser tried to evade, her mobility was shot to hell by the damage already taken. The tricobalt device smashed into her primary hull before detonating, and reducing the battlecruiser to superheated debris flying through space.

The remaining battlecruisers doubled their efforts, firing volleys of torpedoes at the Seoul. Again, the Federation dodged or shot down most of them, but several met their mark, and causing the ship to shake and the holographic displays in the bridge to briefly flicker. “Shields down to sixty-seven per cent!” Melendez warned.

“How’s it going on those shield modulations?” Jut demanded.

“I’m still working on it.” Saul replied. “I need more time…give me a minute, two at most.”

“Torpedoes, fire!” Annika ordered in reply.

Again, quantum torpedoes lashed out, the Dominion ships desperately evading, finally remembering the toll those weapons had reaped of their forces during the war. No doubt, the crews were fresh, green, and untried, which would explain why only three battlecruisers were on a raiding mission.

Still…

…that left too many questions unanswered, not least of which was the sheer distance this area of space was from the Bajoran Wormhole.

“I have it!” Saul shouted in triumph. “Their shields are operating at a modulation of 273.9!”

“Adjust our torpedo and phaser frequencies to match!” Annika ordered as the Seoul shook again. “Target their primary reactors: fire when ready!”

Melendez adjusted the Seoul’s weapon modulations, and then fired. This time, phaser beams carved through the battlecruisers’ shields as though they weren’t even there, and sending molten metal and superheated debris flying into space. Then quantum torpedoes lashed out, and despite the Dominion’s desperate efforts to evade, much like with the Seoul’s phasers, the Dominion shields didn’t even flicker as torpedoes flew through them and smashed into the battlecruisers’ hulls.

Blinding light flashed through space…

…and the Dominion was gone.

“We did it!” Jut triumphantly said, and matching exclamations went up from the rest of the bridge crew. For the most part: Annika just sighed, and then drew herself up.

“Don’t relax just yet.” She chided. “We still have a disabled refugee ship on our hands. Vasror, bring us in to optimum transporter range, but not so close that we’ll be at risk if that ship’s warp core goes off. Saul, anything?”

“Their engines are toast, captain.” Saul said. “Warp and impulse both…they still have maneuvering thrusters, though. Not that that’s going to be of much use.”

“Communications are down.” Zhessesi chimed in. “Most likely as a result of enemy fire.”

“I’m reading one hundred and forty-seven life signs aboard.” Saul added. “Mostly Human, Betazoid, and Andorian…but I’m also reading thirty-six Jem’Hadar.”

“Can you get a transporter lock on them?” Jut asked.

“Yes, sir.” Saul replied.

“Captain,” Jut began. “We should transport them into one of our cargo bays, and reduce the oxygen levels to just below their atmospheric tolerance levels. That should keep them out of trouble until we can get them somewhere secure.’

“And we can get some answers as to how and why they’re here.” Annika said with a nod. “Good idea, commander. Get in touch with life support, and get it done. Saul?”

“I have transporter locks.” Saul said. “Transferring to transporter control.”

Annika brought up her command interface, and pressed an icon on the holographic display. “Transporter control,” she said. “Report.”

“We have them locked in.” the reply came. “Standing by for the commander’s orders.”

“Jut?”

“We’re reducing oxygen levels now…” Jut said, on the line with life support. “…there. They should start passing out the moment they’re in the room.”

“Transporter control,” Annika began. “Energize.”

“Energizing…transport complete.”

“Well done.” Annika said with a nod.

“Major H’au,” Jut said to the commander of the Seoul’s marine complement. “I want a platoon of marines on guard around that cargo bay at all times. Heavy weapons authorized: keep them in that room, and if you can’t, well, that’s just too bad.”

“Understood, commander.”

Jut looked back at Annika, who nodded approvingly at him before looking back at Saul. “The refugees?” she asked.

“…I have locks on all of them.” Saul replied. “But I’m reading thirty of them having faint life signs.”

“Have transporter control send those thirty to medical.” Annika ordered. “Inform Doctor Pel that we’ve got injured coming in.”

“Aye, captain.” Saul said with a nod. “Should I have transporter control send the remaining refugees to another bay? At a safe distance from the Jem’Hadar, of course.”

“Yes, that sounds good, lieutenant.” Annika said with a nod. “I’ll head over there myself, reassure the refugees. Commander, you have the bridge.”

“Understood, captain.” Jut said.

Annika nodded, and getting off her seat, proceeded towards the turbolift.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Major.”

“Captain.”

Accompanied by a squad of Federation Marines in full powered armor, Annika stepped into the cargo bay where the refugees had been transported into. Here and there, she could see members of her crew, mostly enlisted, but including a couple of officers directing efforts to assist the refugees. Some were providing first aid, others were handing out towels and spare clothes, and others more were distributing food and drink.

As their sensors had earlier indicated, the refugees were an eclectic mix of species, Human (or Betazoid, hard to tell by sight without getting close) mostly, though Andorians could be seen here and there. A ripple of apprehension went through the refugees at her arrival, and Annika gestured for the marines to wait outside the room. They stomped out, but for Major H’au, who nevertheless holstered his heavy disruptor rifle before removing his helmet.

“Who’s in charge here?” the Caitian rumbled loudly.

“I am.” A matronly woman approached, and Annika quickly noticed the dark irises of a Betazoid background. “My name is Dammexe Hal. I represent the refugees of…well, formerly of the Yoshiko Maru.”

“Miss Hal,” Annika said with a nod and a reassuring smile. “I am Captain Annika von Kreutzer of the Federation Cruiser Seoul. Rest assured, Miss Hal. As of this moment, you and your people are under the protection of the UFP Navy. I’m still not sure how and why you were forced to flee your homes, but I’m certain it has something to do with those Dominion ships that were attacking your ship.”

“…y-yes.” Hal hesitantly replied, and the captain tilted her head curiously.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

“You…you’re from Starfleet, yes?” Hal asked back. “And this ship…it’s a Starfleet vessel? A Federation vessel?”

Annika briefly looked confused. “Yes,” she said. “This ship is a vessel belonging to the United Federation of Planets. As for Starfleet…well, I assume you refer to the Federation Navy, so yes, I am an officer of the Starfleet, and the commanding officer of this ship.”

“I…I see.”

Annika raised an eyebrow, even more so at the troubled expression on the woman’s face. And that of the other refugees now that she thought about it. A chirp drew her attention though, and she nodded once at the Betazoid woman. “Excuse me.” Annika said, before walking away a polite distance. “Doctor Pel? You have something for me?”

“Yes, captain.” The doctor replied. “I’ve been treating the injured from the Yoshiko Maru, and that was when I noticed something…unusual.”

“Oh?”

“Captain…if these readings I’m getting from blood work are right,” the Vulcan said. “These refugees – or rather the Human ones – are Naturals.”

“And that’s a problem, why?”

“Captain…there are no known Natural Human settlements in the DMZ.” Pel said. “Something is not right here, one way or another.”

“…what?”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Just a pure Star Trek story. An olive branch, you could say, after the last one.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 1​

“Well,” Jut began as he entered the conference room and carrying a dataslate with him. “I just got off the line with sector command. A fine sweep of the Yoshiko Maru’s course with the subspace sensor network confirms that they literally popped out of nowhere in the middle of the sector. Of course, that’s not really possible, so they made an in-depth scan of that area of space. And lo and behold, there’s a wormhole that shouldn’t be there. At least, it wasn’t there until a couple of days ago, though the Yoshiko Maru and her pursuers didn’t pass through until some hours ago.”

The Cardassian officer threw up his hands in exasperated resignation, before handing the dataslate to Annika. “No disrespect intended, commander,” H’au rumbled. “But there’s no need to be so theatrical.”

“Can’t help it,” Jut said with a shrug. “This is the kind of thing that happens to the science and exploratory corps, and to free operators, but not the Federation Navy.”

“Not really,” Annika said while speeding through the report from sector command. “I mean, it’s uncommon, but it happens to the odd cruiser or frigate that strays off the beaten path too far.”

“Speaking of which,” Jut said with a nod before turning back to the marine officer. “How’s dissection of their computers going?”

“I’d be much more confident if we had synthetic support,” H’au replied. “But we don’t. That said, our cyberwarfare suites don’t see any indications that the data in their navigational and other computers are falsified in any way. Between the wormhole and what we’ve found…they might really be from an…alternate universe.”

“And what exactly have you found out, major?” Annika asked.

“Well, they’re from four years in the past based on their chronometers,” H’au replied. “But their charts indicate that what we consider the capital sector of the former Holy Empire is the Bajoran Sector of their Federation. That, and not only is it torn by war between their Federation and the Dominion, but the latter are allied with an independent Cardassian Union.”

“…while I’m glad to hear that much of the Cardassian Expanse was able to avoid conquest by the Holy Empire,” Jut began with wide eyes. “Seriously? They allied themselves with the Dominion? What the fuck?”

“Language, commander.” Annika chided.

“Sorry, captain.”

“In any case,” Annika said with a nod at her XO. “Based on what we’ve found, there’s reason enough for sector command to bump this up to HQ on Earth. Our orders are to bring the derelict refugee ship back to sector command for further investigation, and to keep the Jem’Hadar prisoners contained.”

“And the refugees?” Jut asked.

“They might not be citizens of our Federation,” Annika said. “But they’re still citizens of the Federation. They’re to be treated with all their due rights and courtesies, at least until we can get to sector command. Once we arrive, we’ll hand them over to civilian care and jurisdiction.”

Jut and H’au nodded in understanding. “The science corps will be investigating the wormhole further.” Annika continued. “We’ll need to know everything we can before any of the powers-that-be make a final decision.”

“You won’t get into trouble for this, captain?” H’au asked with some concern. “If they are from an alternate universe…”

“The Prime Directive doesn’t apply.” Annika said with a raised hand. “They’re warp-capable, they’re in interstellar space, and in a region recognized as sovereign Federation territory by known interstellar polities. As for the Temporal Prime Directive…we didn’t know at the time that they were from an alternate past, and in any case they were sending out a general distress signal on all subspace frequencies. And as you all know, in such a case, both naval regulation and historical precedent mandates we come to their assistance.”

“The only complication then is…” Jut softly began.

“Yes,” Annika said with a nod. “Do we continue to interfere, or not?”

“…this is going to be headache for whoever gets to answer that.” Jut said with a wince.

“No doubt,” Annika said. “But right now, we focus on our orders. Commander, head up to the bridge, and get the Yoshiko Maru in tow. Once it’s secure, set course for the sector capital, maximum warp.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jut said with a nod.

“Major,” Annika continued. “Double-check your men’s positions around the Jem’Hadar’s prison. I don’t want anything going wrong.”

“Understood.” H’au said with a nod of his own.

Annika nodded, and then took a deep breath. “Well then,” she said. “You have your orders. As for myself, I’ll go and speak with Miss Hal to brief the refugees on their situation. And to reassure them, of course, that we’ll do everything to keep them safe and sound. If there’s nothing more, then dismissed.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hal looked up from the dataslate Annika gave her, and stared at the captain in disbelief. “This…you expect us to believe this?” the Betazoid asked. “We flew through a wormhole and ended up in an alternate universe? I mean…I know those exist but…you really say that’s what happened?”

“That’s what all the evidence points to.” Annika said before giving a reassuring smile. “Look, I don’t blame you for disbelieving, because it really is unbelievable. But I really am telling you the truth. That said, I’m not so naïve to ask you to take the word of someone you just met at face value.”

“But…?” Hal prompted.

“You’re a Betazoid, aren’t you?” Annika asked. “A telepath and an empath…so this once, I’ll let you into my mind, and have you see the truth for yourself.”

Hal stared at the captain for a long moment, and then taking a deep breath, nodded. Then the two women locked eyes, Annika soon feeling a strange, scratching sensation in her head, like an itch she couldn’t quite reach. Images came to mind almost at random, starting with the recent battle with the Dominion, and from there the battles during the war with the Dominion and the Holy Empire years ago.

Then the images flashing through Annika’s head went back to the present, about the staff meeting from earlier, to compiling a report about the battle and refugees before that, and an alien sense of shock and dawning realization echoed into her from her link with the Betazoid. But beneath it all there was still disbelief, an understandable reluctance to accept such an improbable fact, and more images flashed through Annika’s mind, Hal trying to see if the captain was someone to trust.

Annika let Hal see her memories in a gesture of trust, though not all. Military and state secrets, private memories both bright and dark, things better left forgotten or at least unspoken…Annika blocked Hal off, thinking about and going through a series of nth-degree fractal equations to scramble the telepath’s probes. Surprise echoed…followed by understanding and acceptance, to which Annika reciprocated by bringing up some cherished memories…her husband and children…her parents and grandparents…bright spots in her childhood and youth, and of her career as well…

“…you’re telling the truth.” Hal finally said in a whisper, and breaking off mental contact. “How…I mean…a wormhole…we didn’t know there was a wormhole there…”

“Neither did we.” Annika said. “And you couldn’t have known. We’ve checked your ship’s sensor suites. They’re good for a freighter, but aren’t anywhere near military-grade, to say nothing of science ship-grade. You couldn’t have detected that wormhole, whether at warp or not, unless a ship went in or out of it right in front of you.”

“We were running from the Dominion too.” Hal added wistfully. “That’s probably something else that kept us from noticing the wormhole…but to fly through it at warp without realizing…?”

“One in a million…” Annika said before giving a shrug. “…a rough estimate, I’ll admit, but unfortunately, you just hit that one.”

Hal chuckled and shook her head. “I wouldn’t say it’s unfortunate.” She said. “We didn’t exactly stand a chance against the Dominion once they caught up with us. If we hadn’t gone through the wormhole and drawn your attention…it doesn’t bear thinking.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Annika grimly agreed, well knowing the Dominion’s sheer cruelty and callousness towards prisoners. Though you’d rather be caught by them than by the Bajorans. There were zealots, and then there were zealots.

“So what now?” Hal asked after a deep breath.

“We’re headed for Eboria…” Annika began, only for the surprised Betazoid to interrupt in surprise.

“Eboria?” she echoed. “But that’s the capital of the Maxia Sector. We should still be in the Bajoran Sector.”

“Yes, well,” Annika said with a cough, and restraining the reflexive reaction to being interrupted on her own ship by someone who wasn’t a superior officer. “It seems the wormhole doesn’t just cross between alternate universes, but also up and down the…well, for lack of a better way to call it, time axis, as well. It’s now 2378, three years after the Dominion War ended, and four years in the future from your perspective.”

“And on the other side of Federation space from Bajor.” Hal said with a nod. “Well…it could be worse. We could have ended up in Cardassian Space, or Romulan territory. Or worse: The Gamma or Delta Quadrants.”

Even Annika couldn’t help but wince at the thought of ending up in either the Gamma or Delta Quadrants. The former had the Dominion, and the latter the Borg and gods know who and what other threats that might be lurking. That said…

“Ending up in the Cardassian Expanse isn’t really a bad thing, at least in our universe.” Annika said. “The Cardassians have been members of the Federation since the 2300s, and while it wasn’t exactly easy going at first, they’ve since adjusted to and fully embraced the ideals of peace, unity, and cooperation that the Federation represents.”

Hal stared at Annika for several moments, and then chuckling, shook her head with a genuine smile, the first Annika saw the other woman give her since she arrived aboard the Seoul. “Normally,” Hal began. “I’d be very skeptical at the idea that Cardassians could become genuine members of the Federation. But between what I saw in your mind earlier, and what you said in all honesty just now…I’ve got no choice to believe you.”

“…glad to see that no matter what else might be different,” Annika said after a moment. “Some things are still the same, such as what the Federation stands for.”

“Agreed, captain.” Hal said before taking a deep breath. “Apologies for my earlier interruption, and this derail. History lessons can wait…you were saying we were headed for Eboria?”

“Yes,” Annika said with a nod. “Once there, accommodations will be provided, and arrangements for the future will be decided with your input. You might not be citizens of our Federation, but you are still citizens of the Federation, and due all the rights and privileges guaranteed by the Federation Charter.”

“I’m grateful to hear that.” Hal said with a smile. “And I’m sure the others will be grateful as well.”

“Speaking of which,” Annika began. “How are things for you all here?”

“We’re managing well so far.” Hal replied. “Your crew’s been very helpful and always polite. Thank you for the meals you provided earlier, along with the fresh clothes for so many. It’s done wonders for everybody.”

“I’m just glad to be of help.” Annika said with a smile. “We’re still preparing accommodations, so I’d like to ask you to ask your people for a little more patience until we can set them up. Even at maximum warp, it’ll take us some time to get to Eboria, you see.”

“I understand, captain.” Hal said with a nod. “Just leave it to me.”

“Thank you,” Annika said with a nod. “Oh, and one more thing. While some of the injured will have to stay in the medical bay for observation from what Doctor Pel tells me, most should be released in the next few hours.”

“That’s good to hear.” Hal said with another nod. “I’m sure those here who have friends or relatives in the medical bay will be very happy to hear that.”

“I’m sure they would.” Annika said with a nod of her own. “If there’s nothing more, Miss Hal?”

“Of course, captain. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”

“Well then, I take my leave.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“How are your patients?” Annika asked as she visited the medical bay a couple of hours later, and after most of the injured had been released. “The remaining ones, at least.”

“They are stable.” Doctor/Lieutenant-Commander Pel said, while leading the way to his office. Annika followed, the doctor pressing an icon for privacy on his desk’s holographic display, and setting up a force field around the room. “I can’t give any details, doctor-patient confidentiality…”

“I understand.” Annika said with a nod.

“…this is the first time I’ve treated Natural Humans.” Pel said. “I must admit it was challenging in many ways. First, their regeneration ability is less effective than what Humans today have, and their immune systems similarly less effective. Infection and blood loss were well advanced by the time they arrived in the medical bay, unsurprising given the conditions aboard the Yoshiko Maru.”

“That makes me wonder a lot, though.” Annika said while walking to the windows, and looking out across the bay, watched as nurses and other doctors busied themselves with attending the sedated patients in their bio-beds. “Immune and regeneration enhancements over the Homo sapiens baseline are among our most basic augmentations.”

“Indeed,” Pel agreed. “From my studies on the history of the Human Augmentation Project, that was in fact the original goal. The development of a true, Trans-Human species as a goal was only a later evolution of the program.”

“Quite,” Annika said with a nod. “My concern though is how the other Federation could have missed implementing such a basic and useful gene-mod. The known Natural settlements across the galaxy at least have the excuse that they were sundered from the mainstream of Human civilization by non-Human intervention in our pre-warp years. But the other Federation is at least as advanced as we are.”

Doctor Pel entwined his fingers together in thought. “With all due respect, captain,” he began. “Your logic is flawed. It seems you assume the development of science and technology to be a linear path. This is incorrect. It is entirely possible for the other Federation, or indeed, other species and cultures, to achieve comparable levels of technological achievement without developing certain technologies. Your species’ degree of developing and adopting genetic augmentation, for instance, is unprecedented among known species. Other examples include the Romulans’ use of artificial quantum singularities as power sources in place of matter-antimatter reactions, or the Borg’s assimilation technology.”

“…I see your point.” Annika momentarily admitted with a sigh. “Though I wonder then, how will they react to the knowledge that we – the Humans of this universe – all have such extensive genetic modification. Whether with wonder or apprehension…it’s concerning either way.”

“Logically-speaking,” Pel said. “It is simply a matter of fact that your species in this timeline have undergone such extensive genetic modification.”

“The Human race whether augmented or not isn’t the most logical one in the universe, doctor.” Annika quipped.

“…true.” Pel admitted after a moment. “If so, then I would suggest invoking the Prime Directive as a control measure in the event of an overreaction in either direction.”

“…I see.” Annika said after a moment of thought. “If they embrace augmentation, the Prime Directive can be used to justify denying a potentially-destabilizing full release of data pertaining to genetic engineering technology. And if they react with revulsion, then the Prime Directive can be used to deny them the right to condemn us for our choices in developing our culture and civilization.”

“Indeed, captain.” Pel said with a nod. “Though the Prime Directive is limited in its scope here, as Humanity in both universes are warp-capable species, it does provide for a stabilizing element from which to resolve the issue in a rational and logical fashion.”

Annika nodded. “Well said, doctor.” She said while heading back to his desk. “Going back to your patients…”

“Depending on their degree of recovery by tomorrow morning,” Pel said. “Then I should be able to release them from my medical bay.”

“And if not,” Annika said. “Would it be possible to arrange visits from relatives and loved ones?”

“That would depend on their condition.” Pel said. “And I must insist on strict visiting hours, and that the visitors be in a hygienic state.”

“Reasonable conditions,” Annika said with a nod. “Thank you for your consideration, doctor.”

“As you are well aware, captain,” Pel began. “It’s not so much that we Vulcans don’t feel, as much as we almost never show much less act on what we feel. I completely understand how concerned my patients’ relatives and loved ones feel even as we speak.”

Annika smiled. “True.” She said.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AD 2374 (Prime Timeline)

“Greetings and salutations, mon capitaine!” a very familiar (and infuriatingly at that) figure in a Starfleet Admiral’s uniform greeted Captain Jean-Luc Picard in the Enterprise-E’s ready room.

“Q…” Picard growled in recognition. “I have no time for your games, Q. Not here, not now…perhaps you might not have noticed, but Humanity is facing something of a crisis at the moment.”

“Oh you wound me so, captain!” Q said with theatrical gestures, and now wearing a Grecian costume of all things. “The pain is such that it makes me want to take my own life!”

“Q: what do you want?” Picard growled.

Q tutted, wagging a finger in the air and now wearing the clothes of a Renaissance scholar. “As touchy as ever, I see.” He chided. “You need to liven up and have a life, my dear captain. You’ll live longer, and you’ll even get to keep what’s left of your hair. How about finally making a move on that doctor friend of yours? It’s not as though there’s nothing between you and her, and while she might just be another lowly primate, she’s still quite a beauty by the standards of your kind. Or have you forgotten the lessons learned during our last meeting?”

“That is none of your business.” Picard coldly said, a vein throbbing on his temple. “And once again, I ask: what do you want?”

“I came to see an old friend.” Q quipped, leaning against the desk and once again wearing a Starfleet Admiral’s uniform. “And yes, I am aware of your Federation’s plight against those unruly shapeshifters from the other side of this galaxy. What a bunch of bitter busybodies…anyway, on that note, I’m here to give you some good news!”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Q said with a beaming smile that did absolutely nothing to reassure Picard. “Though I suppose whether it’s good news or not depends on how open-minded your kind and this experiment you call the Federation are.”

“We are quite open-minded, thank you very much.” Picard hotly retorted. “The Federation is a nation of many species, cultures, and faiths…”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it is.” Q irritably interrupted with a wave of his hand. “By your word, of course. And it’s high time that’s put to the test.”

“…what are you planning, Q?” Picard asked suspiciously.

“Remember, captain.” Q replied in all seriousness. “If your species and those who follow you are ever to be truly ready to face the challenges out here in the cosmos, to be worthy of the future you all desire, you need to keep an open mind. Not just in the way you realized during the last time we met, but in other ways as well.”

“What do you mean?”

Q tutted, shaking his head and wagging fingers in the air again. “Now,” he began. “Why would I give the answers in advance? That would ruin the whole purpose of the test, wouldn’t it? Just remember: keep an open mind. So long as you do, then help and new friendships are just over the horizon, old doors you once thought forever closed might open once again, and unnecessary trouble might just be averted.”

Q smiled. “Relax, captain.” He said reassuringly. “You’ve passed all my tests before. Why would this one be any different?”

And on that note, Q was gone. Picard was not reassured.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Another test?” Commander William Riker asked. “Oh boy, here we go again.”

“I’m more concerned about the hint Q gave about this ‘test’ he’s planning for us.” Doctor Beverly Crusher said with a concerned tone. “The last time involved a temporal anomaly, and one that stretched back to early Earth, and prevented life from ever evolving on our planet. This time though…the way he mentioned help would come so long as we keep an open mind…”

“He mentioned that new friendships would come with it too.” Picard mused at the head of the table. “I wonder if this help involves an encounter with a new species, one that might just be willing and able to join the fight against the Dominion.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that asking someone you just met to join in on a fight to the death isn’t going to make for a promising First Contact.” Riker remarked. “That said, that might just be what Q means about keeping an open mind.”

“That,” Counsellor Deanna Troi chimed in. “Or their appearance might not portray them in the best light at first glance…or ourselves, for that matter. First impressions are very important when starting new relationships, whether among people or groups of people. It could be that ‘open mind’ on Q’s part involves not letting first impressions ruin what could have been a promising First Contact.”

“Or it could be both.” Riker said, and Troi nodded to concede the fact.

“Perhaps it would be best to review the First Contact Protocols currently in use.” Lieutenant-Commander Data suggested. “Said protocols assume a peacetime state of affairs, and ample time to develop relations and learn of each other’s cultures in. But at present, the Federation is in a state of war with the Dominion and the Cardassian Union.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Picard said with a nod. “Data, work with Counsellor Troi and see to preparing a preliminary draft of a modified set of First Contact Protocols for when the Federation encounters a new species in wartime.”

“Yes, sir.” Data said with a nod, and Troi nodded in agreement as well.

“The rest of what Q said is also rather concerning too.” Doctor Crusher said. “Old doors once thought forever closed might open once again, and unnecessary trouble might just be averted…just what did he mean by them?”

“Unnecessary trouble could refer to the consequences of a failed First Contact.” Data opined. “The preceding statement though makes heavy use of figurative language. And as with all forms of figurative language, there is a large number of possible meanings each with their own unique potential consequences and possible implications.”

“Maybe Q was referring to something we always thought to be impossible?” Lieutenant-Commander Geordi La Forge asked. “And that whoever we’ll be meeting could show us that it’s not so impossible after all?”

Data tilted his head in thought, and then nodded in agreement. “That is a possible, even probable meaning, for Q’s figurative language.” He said.

“What about Starfleet Command, sir?” Riker asked. “I assume you also informed them of this development?”

“Not yet, but I will soon, yes.” Picard said with a nod. “Though I would expect that Fleet Admiral Shanthi, along with Admirals Paris and Hayes, won’t exactly be what you would call thrilled by the notion of Q stirring the pot up.”

“That’s an understatement.” Riker said with a grin, a grin that failed as his attempt to liven up the situation similarly failed.

“In any case,” Picard said. “All we can do is to take care and be ready for whatever it is that Q has in store for us. Once the modified First Contact Protocols are ready, I’ll submit them along with my report on my recent encounter with Q, as well as my recommendations for the future. In the meantime, we’ll carry on with our assigned duties. Dismissed.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Yes, the AU Federation still has the Prime and Temporal Prime Directives. Neither of them are bad ideas per se, it’s just that the application of the former in the prime timeline can be just so…asinine, at times, and in one case in Enterprise, horrifyingly cold-blooded. And in the case of the latter, it’s not enforced as strictly as it should be (time is not a toy), with the Temporal Prime Directive getting broken whenever convenient.

On other notes, we’re also getting to see some of the differing details of the AU Federation. Q also makes an appearance, referencing his past lessons to Picard (and by extension, Humanity).

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 2​

Nicholas sat in his bunk, staring across their accommodations area to a young…enlisted? Yes, enlisted, that’s what she was, an enlisted woman…and what a surreal notion that was. Not that it was the only surreal thing, it was just the most recent, and not even the most surreal thing of their current situation.

First was being forced to run from an invasion by hostile aliens from the Gamma Quadrant, then getting chased across light-years of space by those same hostile aliens from the Gamma Quadrant, and then somehow flying entirely by accident into a wormhole that no one had known about before. And that wormhole didn’t just lead to another part of the galaxy – though a thankfully close part of the galaxy at that – it apparently led to an alternate universe, and they’d arrived a few years in the future from their perspective.

…interdimensional travel was weird.

Thankfully though, the Federation still seemed to exist here, though it was…different. Apparently, Starfleet didn’t exist, or at least, existed in different ways. Instead of a single Starfleet, the Federation had a dedicated military arm tasked with defending its people and territory, and a separate science and exploratory arm for, well, scientific research and deep space exploration.

That certainly explained why the enlisted woman was, well, an enlisted woman. They were on a military ship, after all, though Nicholas didn’t know how to completely feel about that. Oh he was grateful, if they hadn’t turned up when they did, they’d be toast against the Dominion, what with the Yoshiko Maru’s engines shot out from behind them, but still…

…it didn’t feel right, having a separate military, or indeed, the Federation having an organization that had fighting wars and battles as their first priority.

Making the enlisted woman even more surreal was her uniform. Nicholas had visited a few exhibitions of Federation history in the past, and among those exhibitions was one featuring the evolution of Starfleet uniforms over time to the ones used in the present day. If there was one surreal trait that was immediately obvious and shared between all the men and women of the Seoul, no matter what their species might be, it was that the uniforms they wore were all but identical to the ones used by Starfleet during the late-23rd​ Century.

Albeit favoring ultramarine over burgundy, but that was a superficial thing at best.

“Excuse me, miss!” Nicholas found himself calling, and then getting to his feet as the enlisted woman turned to him curiously.

“Yes, can I help you, sir?” she asked while approaching. And there was yet another surreal thing about the (Human) men and women aboard this ship. Nicholas couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was a…unreal, air about them.

Though that was probably just their already surreal situation getting to him.

“Um…yeah…” Nicholas began hesitantly, before coughing to regain his composure. “I was just wondering you see…what was that thing you were using earlier?”

The enlisted woman looked confused for a brief moment, and then understanding, gave him a smile. “This?” she asked while bringing up a holographic display and interface over her forearm. “This is my multi-tool.”

“Multi-tool?” Nicholas asked curiously. “Is that like a tricorder?”

“…I’ve never heard of a tricorder before.” The enlisted woman said with mild confusion. “Though they could be the same, with the tricorder being a multi-tool’s analog in your home universe.”

“Uh-huh…so what does a multi-tool do?”

“At the most basic level it’s a communication device,” the enlisted woman explained, and tapping at her multi-tool’s interface to demonstrate. “Whether for personal or network communications, and in multiple formats, such as audio, visual, and digital, among others. Of course, given the interstellar nature of modern society, it integrates a universal translator among other support features.”

“I’m guessing from what you said there's more to it than that.” Nicholas said, and by this point other refugees were moving closer, curious and interested in the enlisted woman’s explanation.

“Well, it also functions as a computer.” She said, and demonstrating by pulling up a number of programs, from writing and recording ones, to data processing and even entertainment ones. “And like I said earlier, the multi-tool supports network communications, so it can join the ship-wide computer network and function as a portable terminal. Though of course, as a personal device, network access and other functions are limited for security purposes.”

“Does it have sensor functions too?” an Andorian asked.

“Basic ones, yes.” The enlisted woman answered with a nod. “Temperature, air pressure, and the like, though given my occupation as serving in space, I added other functions such as oxygen and carbon dioxide sensors, as well as radiation sensors for both normal electromagnetic and higher-level emissions. In fact, multi-tools specifically-designed for scientific, medical, and other specialist roles, have features fine-tuned for the purpose they’re meant for.”

A ripple of amazement went through the gathered refugees. “But,” another Human asked. “I mean…I don’t see how or where the hologram’s being projected from…”

In response, the enlisted woman turned off the holographic display and interface, and angling her hand just so, caused light to flash off a series of dermal implants on her hand. “The user component is usually implanted into the skin of a hand,” the enlisted woman said. “And incorporates a neural interface that allows for basic functions to be controlled by thought. Anything more than basic functions though require additional cybernetic modification for purely thought-based control.”

“So…” Nicholas said in shocked disbelief. “…all that…is contained in those tiny implants?”

“No…this is only the user component.” The enlisted woman shook her head. “The operating component is located in a nth-dimensional quantum space, phase-shifted therein after assembly, and then synchronized with and anchored to the implants that make up the user component.”

The stunned silence that greeted the enlisted woman’s explanation was profound, and thoroughly confused her. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Thank you all for coming.” Annika said with a smile, and welcoming the delegation from the refugees into the Seoul’s conference room. “I know you’re all still recovering from your brush with the Dominion, but now that things have begun settling down, I think now is a good time for us all to sit down and talk.”

“You’ve done so much for us already, captain.” One of the delegates – an Andorian – said. “It’s the least we could do to repay you by agreeing to having a talk with you.”

“Even so, thank you very much for your time.” Annika said, before gesturing to Doctor Pel, who gave a small but stoic bow. “I’m sure some of you recognize him by now, but for those who don’t, this is Lieutenant-Commander Pel, the Seoul’s chief medical officer, though he prefers to go by ‘doctor’ instead of his rank.”

“Yes, of course,” another one of the delegates – Human, this time – said with a nod and a smile. “He did a great job patching up my sister. Damn Dominion thugs…”

“While your ire towards the Dominion is understandable,” Pel began. “It would not do to dwell upon it overlong. Hatred begets only hatred, and that is not something any of us should seek.”

The Human set his jaw, but nodded in understanding, and let out a breath as Hal put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “In any case,” Annika said, while gesturing to her yeoman. “Please be seated. If you wish for anything to drink, please inform Yeoman Brown here, so that she can accommodate your needs.”

The delegates sounded off their preferred drinks, and moments later the yeoman was carrying a tray with steaming mugs and frosted glass from the replicator. She served the captain and doctor first, the former with coffee and the latter tea, before serving the delegates. Then giving a polite bow, stepped back to stand against a wall.

Annika took a drink of her coffee, and then replacing the mug on her saucer, gave the delegates a smile. “Now then,” she said. “For starters, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that we’re only five days away from Eboria at Warp 9.975. And I’ve received word from the planetary government that residential spaces have been prepared and await your arrival, and that a committee has been formed to address your needs and circumstances. Yeoman Brown?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The yeoman said, before approaching the delegates and handing Hal a dataslate.

“Those are the details of the accommodations on Eboria,” Annika said. “Along with a preliminary outline for a plan with regard to your and your people’s circumstances. The committee would be most grateful to receive your input even before our arrival, so that work can proceed more earnestly upon your arrival.”

“Thank you, captain.” Hal said with genuine gratitude. “I’ll be sure to review the details at length after this meeting, and have a response ready for transmission by the end of the day.”

“Take your time, Miss Hal.” Annika said with a nod. “Haste makes waste, as the old saying goes.”

“You may have a point there, captain.” Hal conceded with a nod. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Annika nodded, and then drew herself up. “Now then,” she said. “Let’s get down to the meat of the matter. While Doctor Pel and his staff were performing their duty on your injured, they noticed an intriguing trend among their patients. Before we continue, here and now let me assure you on my honor as a Federation officer that no stigma exists whatsoever in our society between those Augmented and those who are not. Such sentiments died in nuclear fire during the Third World War, and what was left vanished in the post-atomic horror that followed.”

The Betazoid and the Andorian looked curious at the captain’s words, but the Human seemed to have caught her meaning, and now looked apprehensive. “What do you mean, captain?” the Human delegate asked.

“What is the status of the genetic engineering field in your universe?” Annika asked back.

The Human delegate looked disinclined to answer, while the Andorian delegate just looked confused. Hal, though, only looked curious, and was ultimately the one to answer. “The Federation has no unified policy on the issue,” She said. “And prefers to let its member species and polities police the field as suits their culture, so long as their study and application of the field does not violate any of the Federation’s standards on general scientific research. Most use it to prevent any hereditary diseases or birth defects from manifesting, though on the upper end of the scale, the Denobulans enthusiastically embrace the field, not just using it to prevent hereditary diseases or birth defects, but also to correct genetic faults and improve individual traits and abilities.”

“And on the lower end, the United Earth Government strictly prohibits the use of genetic engineering to tamper beyond absolute necessity the genetic template of the Human species.” The Human delegate anxiously said. “Why? Is it different here?”

“It is, actually.” Annika admitted. “Most of what you said applies to the Federation here as well, though not so much the Denobulans and United Earth.”

“In what way?” the Human delegate even more anxiously demanded.

“Private genetic research is absolutely forbidden if that’s what you’re worried about.” Annika answered. “But genetic research is extensively carried out by both the Denobulan and United Earth Governments, both individually and in cooperation with each other, aimed at constant, directed, and steady improvement of our gene-templates.”

“Oh God,” the Human delegate said, shrinking back in horror from Annika before glancing fearfully at Brown. “You’re Augments, aren’t you? Every last ‘Human’ on this ship is an Augment!”

“Augments?” Hal asked incredulously. “Augments as in the ones said to have triggered the Eugenics Wars on Earth centuries ago? Or like the group of exiles led by the warlord Kan or something a century ago?”

“Khan,” Annika corrected. “His name was Khan Noonien Singh, founder and first Sovereign of the Great Khanate. Yeoman, please head down to the mess and see if the cook has some brandy available. Our delegate here could use something to brace himself with, it seems.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brown said with a nod before sharply striding from the room.

“Are you out of your minds?” the agitated Human delegate demanded. “Do you have any idea how dangerous tampering with the Human DNA is? Didn’t you learn anything at all from the Eugenics Wars? Don’t you know how immoral what you’re doing is?”

“Morality and ethics are very complicated topics, honored delegate.” Pel said. “Especially when it comes to different species, as it will always involve varying degrees of cultural relativism to determine.”

Pel paused, and then turned back to Annika. “Captain,” he continued. “I suspect I might have determined the point of divergence between our timelines. Specifically, Miss Hal’s mention of Sovereign Khan as being an exile.”

“So it would seem.” Annika said with a sigh. “From the sound of things, the Great Khanate must have joined the Eugenics Wars during their timeline, instead of staying neutral as in our timeline.”

“Indeed,” Pel said with a nod. “And in so doing, left Humanity in their timeline without any positive examples of Augments to moderate their opinions on genetic engineering.”

“…I think I’m starting to see the bigger picture here.” Hal said with a firm glance at her subordinate to keep him quiet. “And I’m sure we would get more done by actually talking with and understanding each other than we would by pointing fingers and shouting across the table.”

Pel nodded. “That is a logical assumption.” He said.

“I agree.” Annika said while sitting back in her seat, and taking a drink. “I’d say it’s your turn to ask questions, Miss Hal.”

“Very well then,” Hal said. “To start with, how far have you augmented yourselves?”

“Quite far,” Annika answered immediately. “We don’t have to worry about hereditary diseases or allergies anymore, the genes for such have virtually-disappeared from the Human genepool. Our immune systems have also improved to the degree that most pathogens that could affect us are deliberately-engineered ones, such as those used in bioweapons. That, or something like the influenza virus or its interstellar cousins. Despite our geneticists’ best efforts, viruses like influenza are still somehow able to get around our defenses and put us in bed.”

Annika paused and shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.” She said.

“Humanity’s regenerative abilities have also been vastly-improved over the 21st​ Century – Earth Standard – Human baseline.” Pel added. “While Humans can’t regrow limbs or eyes for that matter without external assistance, it would require very heavy trauma to cause a Human to bleed to death. Spinal damage that could cause permanent paralysis for baseline Humans are also recoverable for Humans today.”

“We can also grow lost adult teeth back, provided the gums and jaw aren’t damaged.” Annika said. “And they almost never deviate anymore.”

“Approximately sixty per cent reduced rate of orthodontic deviation, to be specific.” Pel corrected, and Annika conceded the point with a nod.

“That is…impressive,” Hal said. “Though as I recall Augments were also supposed to be very strong.”

“Again,” Annika said. “Based on the 21st​ Century baseline for Natural Humans before the Third World War, our augmentations give us an overall improvement of five hundred per cent in all physical categories. Though that is a fairly inaccurate number, given the sheer variety between the physical abilities of various individuals.”

“It’s also the upper limit for physical Human augmentations.” Pel said with a nod. “Without significant alterations to the fundamental Human form, no further physical augmentations are possible, at least at present.”

“No real need for it anyway.” Annika said with a shrug.

“That’s all well and good,” the Human delegate said shortly. “But I’m more concerned that you’re forgetting – or didn’t learn – the biggest lesson of the Eugenics Wars, and why Augmentation is banned for good reason: superior ability breeds superior ambition.”

Annika’s face hardened at that, and she glared sharply at the Human delegate, who simply scoffed. “Truth too much to swallow for you, Augment?” he sneered.

“Honored delegates,” Pel began with a conciliatory tone. “It would be wise to avoid saying such things before the Humans of this timeline. While it no doubt has a different context in your timeline, here such slogans were used by the NCF of Earth’s Third World War to justify the mass murder of over three hundred million men, women, and children, for the sole reason that their genes had been artificially altered.”

The Human delegate’s face blanched, his expression becoming one of mixed shock, horror, and regret. “…I…apologize, for my thoughtless remarks.” He finally said.

Annika nodded curtly. “Perhaps we ought to take a break,” she finally said. “Say…twenty minutes, to cool our heads?”

“That seems like a good idea.” Hal said.

“Agreed.” Pel said with a nod.

Annika nodded as well. “Well then,” she said while pushing her chair back from the table. “Let us adjourn.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Brown and Pel looked on in concern as Annika poured a near-brimming glass of Orion Brandy for herself, and drank it down in one go. Then she refilled her glass, and did the same again. Not that they were afraid of the captain getting drunk, as Augment Humans simply couldn’t get drunk. Their metabolisms processed the alcohol much too quickly for that to happen.

“…three hundred years…” Annika finally said. “…it’s been over three hundred years since the Third World War and the complete and utter discrediting of the NCF and their poisonous, Luddite, and fascist ideology, and then I get that piece of rhetoric thrown in my face. Gods damn it…”

“Captain,” Pel began. “While I understand you are justifiably-offended by the words spoken to you, please keep in mind that the delegate was unaware of the context such a slogan has in our timeline. As both you and I know, things are very different in their universe.”

“…if it weren’t for the fact that the NCF wouldn’t have the brains to become an interstellar civilization,” Annika darkly said. “Or at least one that wouldn’t have been put down within a generation by their neighbors for simply being pure, utter evil, I’d say that the NCF won their timeline’s Third World War. That, and we’ve already established that the point of divergence between our timelines was long before then.”

“As you say, captain.” Pel said with a nod. “Nevertheless, and I apologize for any offense potentially caused, I would remind you to remember your position and obligations as a Federation officer. Please keep that in mind, and act appropriately.”

“Doctor,” Annika said while glancing at him. “You’ve been part of my crew for years now, even before the Dominion War. Saying something like that is never going to offend me. You’ve more than earned the right to do so.”

Pel nodded once at the captain, and Annika sighed. “Well, this is going to be fun.” She said while reclining her seat. “Five more days to Eboria, and we’ve got around a hundred Naturals with prejudices against Augments. Granted, they have reason to if the Great Khanate actually joined the other Augment-ruled nations during the Eugenics Wars, but still…this is going to be a pain in the ass.”

“If I may say so, captain,” Pel began. “You should not take reactionary action. Say, for instance, put a guard around the refugees’ accommodations. That said, it would not do to be incautious either.”

“True,” Annika said with a nod. “And it’d be unfair to the non-Humans present, seeing as Betazoids and Andorians don’t seem to share the Naturals’ prejudices.”

“As you say, captain.”

“…very well,” Annika said after a few moments’ thought. “We’ll discreetly place them under surveillance, and all crew members are to move and work in pairs among the refugees, just in case.”

“That would be a prudent, but restrained, measure to take, captain.” Pel agreed.

Annika nodded, and then opened a channel to her XO with a thought to her multi-tool. “Jut,” she said. “There’ve been new developments, not all good, so I need you to implement the following orders.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As planned, the refugees’ delegation returned to the conference room after twenty minutes, the Human delegate looking suitably-chastened. Though she didn’t let it show, Annika amused herself at the apparent fact that the man couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Captain,” Hal began. “Before we begin, I’d like to offer you my full and sincere apologies for my subordinate’s words and action. You and your crew have treated us with nothing but the utmost courtesy, and it is only right that we return the favor. Rest assured, captain, that the previous episode will not happen again.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Annika said with a nod. “With that said, let us move on, instead of dwelling on the past.”

“Yes, captain.”

Annika nodded again, and waited until the delegates were all seated before speaking up. “There are two reasons why I brought up the question of genetic augmentation in the first place.” She began. “First is out of courtesy: things seemed to be different in your timeline, and you deserved to know if that truly was the case, in order to avoid unpleasant surprises further down the line. Second, I’d like to ask for the cooperation of your ship’s doctor, and assist Doctor Pel in developing vaccines for your people before we arrive at Eboria.”

“Vaccines?” the Human delegate asked curiously. The Andorian delegate though, just nodded in understanding.

“That makes sense.” He said. “None of us have been to Eboria before, so we might be at risk of contracting some local diseases we’ve never encountered before after arriving.”

“Indeed,” Annika said with a nod. “Normally, this would only be a problem for the non-Humans among the refugees, but with the Human refugees being Naturals and with weakened immune systems from wartime conditions…”

The Human delegate looked like he’d swallowed a lemon whole as Annika trailed off, while Hal and the Andorian delegate both nodded in understanding. “We understand, captain.” Hal said. “I’ll speak with Doctor Merram on returning to our accommodations, and have him proceed to the medical bay as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, that is most appreciated.” Annika said.

“On the contrary, captain,” Hal said with a nod. “We should be the ones to be grateful, seeing as you’re doing so much for us.”

“It’s my duty as a Federation officer.” Annika said while sinking back into her seat. “That said, I was wondering if you might help me with something else.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…” Annika said with a nod before narrowing her eyes. “…I was wondering if you could tell me all you know about the current situation on the other side of the wormhole. That is, how is the war going for your Federation?”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“What’s the name of that war god of your people, captain?” Jut asked while staring at the tactical display hours later. “Loki?”

“Odin,” Annika corrected. “Loki is the god of mischief and mayhem…Odin is the god of war, among other things. And please stay focused.”

“Right, captain…” Jut said before taking a deep breath. “And I thought we had it bad back then. To think the Dominion’s actually threatening Vulcan itself, and also threatening to open a second front to the galactic south in the Bolian Sector.”

“To be fair,” Annika said. “We couldn’t stop the Dominion and the Bajorans from overrunning the Cardassian Expanse and the Tzenketh-Talara-Tama Corridor either. Or for that matter, actually putting Tellar under siege.”

“I see your point, captain.” Jut conceded.

“The situation does look bad,” Annika said. “But I’d like to have faith in our fellows on the other side of the wormhole. They’ll get through this, and come out of it stronger and wiser. But, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t help if we can. This war will cost them dearly, as it did us. And no matter the lessons and experiences our fellows will get out of the war, death is nothing to be cherished. If our help can save even the smallest fractions of lives that would otherwise have been lost, then it’s something worth doing.”

“We’re already involved anyway,” Jut agreed. “Once we saved those refugees, that is.”

“That said,” H’au began. “That’s not our decision to make, or even high command’s. We must wait for the prime minister and cabinet to make the final decision.”

“I’m sure the prime minister will see the need to extend a helping hand.” Annika said. “If nothing else, it’s possible the Dominion might notice the wormhole leading to our universe before the other Federation pushes them back, and send more ships through.”

“Better we hit them first instead of letting them make the first move, huh?” Jut said before nodding his head slowly. “There’s something I can get behind.”

“As can I.” H’au said with a nod of his own. “Being the one in possession of the initiative is a critical advantage.”

“I’m sure high command thinks the same way, as does the defense minister.” Annika said. “All we can do now is wait, and let them do their jobs. And do our own jobs in the meantime. Speaking of which, how’s that matter I asked you to do earlier?”

“The security system’s been updated.” Jut said. “We should be able to keep an eye on the refugees and notice any potential trouble from the Naturals acting on their prejudices in advance. The crew members assigned to assist the refugees have also been given their orders, whether Human or not, to always go around in groups of at least two or three individuals.”

“Best not let them get a chance to take hostages if they ever decide to start trouble.” H’au rumbled approvingly. “Though if nothing else we can transport them out if it comes down to it, and then sealing off that section of the ship, use the same oxygen trick we used to knock the Jem’Hadar out. If it worked on Jem’Hadar, it should work on them as well.”

“Good point,” Annika said before sighing. “Though I strongly hope that it never comes to that.”

“As do I, captain.” Jut said.

“Likewise.” H’au said, and Annika nodded.

“Thank you.” She said. “Now then, what else is on our agenda?”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Some technobabble, then the truth comes out (mostly, only the physical augmentations were mentioned, at least for now), before a Natural did the equivalent of proudly screaming Nazi slogans in front of a Russian/Israeli career officer.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 3​

Despite Annika’s fears, the rest of the trip to Eboria proceeded smoothly. For the most part: before the near-disastrous meeting, the refugees had been rather open in their gratitude to the Seoul’s crew, both for saving them from the Dominion, and again for being so accommodating to the refugees. Once news spread that the Humans not just in the Seoul’s crew but virtually the entirety of the Human race were Augments, well, things took a sharp turn south.

The refugees might not have turned outright hostile, but they’d suddenly clammed up. Where before they’d been eager to chat with the Seoul’s crew, asking about how things were in this Federation, the crew’s own circumstances, and even about the various technologies present here but absent in their universe, now they preferred to speak to the crew only when they needed to, and proceeded quickly to the point before ending the conversation as soon as politely possible.

The Human refugees, at least. The Andorians and Betazoids, while still not as open as they used to be, perhaps out of fear of being ostracized by the Humans they were bunking with, tried to satisfy their curiosity about this new universe they found themselves in as best they could while avoiding looking as though they were befriending the Seoul’s crew.

The Human crew, at least, though that was something of a mixed thing. The Human refugees, while keeping the Human crew at arm’s length, tried to continue their previous fraternization with the non-Human crew…if it weren’t obvious that they were clumsily trying to ingratiate themselves with the non-Human crew, and whispering about the dangers of Augmentation, trying to turn the non-Human crew to their side, even if just in terms of sympathy. Naturally, it didn’t work: the dangers of Augmentation were already well-known, Humanity in this universe never having hidden the cost they’d paid over a century’s worth of time to master the practice, and in the process, learned to avoid or overcome its pitfalls and challenges.

As far as the non-Humans in the crew were concerned, the Humans of this universe altering their genes to improve themselves was no different to the Vulcans abandoning their emotions in favor of cold and mechanical logic. It was simply part of who and what they were, as a species, a culture, and a civilization.

And seeing as Augmentation was harming neither Humanity nor its neighbors, there was no reason for it and those who practiced it to be held as though they were less than civilized.

That, and much of the crew had been serving together for a long time now, many having fought beside each other under Annika’s command during the Dominion War. Even those who hadn’t saw no reason to take the word of strangers not just to themselves, but to their universe even, over the word of those who knew their crewmates for years and through the trials and hardships of war, and who’d also been born and grown up in this universe.

They could make intelligent judgments on their own, thank you very much. And they saw no reason to rule against the Humans of this universe whatsoever.

The result? What had started as the Human refugees giving the Human crew a cold shoulder ended with the Seoul’s crew as a whole taking a step back in disgust.

“At the risk of sounding rather callous,” Jut began. “I’m glad those people are off the ship.”

“They’re someone else’s problem now.” Annika said with an agreeing nod.

The two of them stood on one of the Seoul’s observation decks, from where they observed the refugees offloading through a docking umbilical, linking to the ship where it was docked at Eboria’s low orbit docking facility. Personnel from the Federal Ministry of Social Welfare and Development would be meeting the refugees, along with more personnel from the Eborian planetary government, but the Seoul wouldn’t be hanging around for long, maybe only for a few hours to take the chance to conduct system diagnostics with the assistance of a dedicated docking facility, and to replenish the supplies consumed by the refugees.

Annika’s multi-tool chirped, and she answered with a thought. “Annika, here.” She said.

“Captain,” Zhessesi began. “We’re received a priority transmission from Admiral Garak of the Seventh Fleet. The guard force has engaged the Dominion.”

Annika and Jut shared an alarmed glance, and then they were striding from the observation deck together. “Cancel the resupply and all diagnostics.” Annika immediately ordered. “Prepare for immediate launch, and inform the docking personnel. Go to Yellow Alert.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The Orion woman replied.

“Anything else from Admiral Garak?” Jut asked, tapping into the line as per his authority as the ship’s executive officer.

“Multiple Seventh Fleet elements present in the sector have been ordered to rally to the Maxian Wormhole at maximum possible speed.” Zhessesi replied. “Assistance has also been requested from the Maxian Defense Force as well.”

“The Seventh Fleet is spread thin over this region of the Federation.” Annika growled unhappily. “Here’s to HQ not dawdling around in sending the reserves our way…transporter control, this is Annika.”

“We read you, captain.” The officer on duty replied.

“Lock onto my and Commander Ganac’s signatures,” Annika began. “And transport us directly to the bridge.”

“Standby captain…energizing.”

There was a flicker of light, the briefest moment of disorientation, and then Annika and Jut were on the Seoul’s bridge. “Captain on the bridge!” the yeoman on duty said.

“At ease.” Annika said while proceeding to her seat, Jut stepping down and past to his station at the front next to the helm. “What’s the word from docking control?”

Zhessesi turned her seat to address the captain directly. “Standing by to give us the all-clear, captain.” She said. “They’re just waiting for our launch vector to clear.”

“Make it quick.” Annika said before turning back to the front and pulling up her command interface. “Engineering, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, captain.” Commander Reuben Marshall said.

“We need to get to the wormhole fast.” Annika said while working at her interface. “At maximum warp, it’ll take us about six days…but if we supplement our journey with transwarp hops, it should take us only two days to get there.”

“…I’ll get right on it.” Reuben said.

“You do that.” Annika said.

“If we could use transwarp all the way,” Jut quipped. “We could be there in about half a day or so.”

“We’re still about ten years away at least from being able to use transwarp that freely.” Annika said. “For now, we’ll have to be satisfied with up to an hour of transwarp per day.”

“As you say, captain.”

“Captain,” Zhessesi began from the communications station. “Docking control has given us the all-clear.”

“Docking clamps and umbilical have disengaged.” Vasror said from the helm. “Standing by.”

“Pass on our thanks to docking control, ensign.” Annika said. “Vasror, take us out of dock, maneuvering thrusters only. Once we’re clear, go to half-impulse.”

“Aye, captain. Maneuvering thrusters only.”

Across the dock, eyes turned to the Seoul as the Luoyang Class Cruiser deftly pulled itself clear of the dock, over five hundred meters long with dual deflectors and quadruple nacelles. Banking slowly but gracefully, the cruiser turned away from the dock and planet alike, heading out into interplanetary space, and then abruptly picked up speed as its impulse engines came to life.

“Course set: Maxian Wormhole.” Vasror said. “Preparing to engage transwarp drive, Trans-Warp Factor 2. Standing by.”

“…bridge, this is engineering.” The word came from Reuben few moments later. “We’re ready to engage the quantum integrity fields.”

“Engage.” Annika said before narrowing her eyes. “Vasror, commence transwarp!”

“Aye, captain.” The Orion said. “Engaging transwarp.”

Annika’s eyes shot to her command interface, where a wireframe diagram of her ship revolved in 3D as it was enveloped by more wireframe diagrams, representing the quantum integrity fields necessary for transwarp travel. One, to protect the ship and everyone and everything in it from the chronometric distortions of the transwarp barrier and beyond, and another to prevent the ship’s warp bubble from collapsing to the strain of breaking through and staying past the transwarp barrier.

And as the quantum integrity fields solidified, the Seoul jumped to transwarp.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

All across the Maxia Sector, elements of the Seventh Fleet were speeding towards the Maxia Wormhole, aiming to reinforce the guard forces now engaging Dominion forces probing through it from another universe. Not the whole fleet, of course, as the Seventh Fleet’s primary role was to protect not just the Maxia Sector, but even the neighboring Typhon Sector from attack, in particular from the nearby Breen Confederacy.

Fleet command wouldn’t strip the border of protection, and even if they would, naval headquarters and the Federation High Command wouldn’t allow it. That said, an ongoing – if still small-scale – invasion by the Dominion (if from an alternate universe) was not something to be taken lightly.

Already, elements of the First Fleet were scrambling to reinforce the Maxia Sector, while the border defenses had been slated for reinforcement by elements of the Fourth and Eighth Fleets, as further deterrent against the Breen. They’d been allies of this universe’s Dominion, after all. Even with the Treaty of Bajor, few among the Federation leadership were willing to trust the Breen not to take another opportunity to go war with the Federation. And in the Cardassian Expanse, the Fifth and Third Fleets were put on heightened alert.

Aboard his flagship, the Nineveh Class Cruiser Culat, Admiral Elim Garak of the Federation Seventh Fleet tapped impatiently at his seat’s armrests. In addition to his ship, his group of reinforcements included another seven Nineveh Class Cruisers, along with sixteen Hastings Class Frigates. A force powerful enough to take on up to ten times their number…at least on paper. From experience, it was best to avoid going to battle against enemies with a numerical advantage greater than five-to-one, no matter the Federation’s technological superiority.

“How much longer?” Garak demanded.

“Approximately three hours, sir.” Lieutenant Mune Tezel, the Culat’s helmsman, replied. “That already factors in our having to drop out of transwarp in approximately twenty-five minutes.”

Garak growled low in his throat, before pressing at an icon on his command interface. “Engineering,” he began. “Can’t we squeeze any more speed out of the transwarp drive?”

“Admiral,” the chief engineer began. “We’re already at Trans-Warp Factor 1.93. Any more and we risk overloading our quantum integrity field generators.”

“We’re supposed to be capable of Trans-Warp Two, commander!”

“On paper…”

“…on paper.” Garak agreed. “Now, how about making it in practice as well?”

“…I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

“Make it happen, commander.” Garak said before turning to his communications officer. “What’s the latest update from the guard force?”

“They’re outnumbered over ten-to-one sir.” Lieutenant-Commander Wu Min-Seo replied. “They estimate the number of Dominion ships at five hundred ships, including over a hundred battlecruisers.”

Garak made a sound of disgust. “Unsurprising,” he growled. “Considering how easily they can churn out Jem’Hadar cannon fodder and feed them into the battlefield. Have any reinforcements arrived yet?”

“The 81st​ Flotilla arrived twenty minutes ago, and is factored in with the ratio given earlier.” Wu replied. “According to the latest report from Captain Zanin, they’re engaging the enemy in detail across an area of space approximately one hundred and twenty-five cubic light-seconds around the wormhole.”

“Trying to draw the Dominion into a prolonged fight by tempting them with the prospect of destroying our forces present in detail, huh?” Garak asked in understanding. “Not bad…but tell Captain Zanin not to underestimate the Dominion. The Jem’Hadar might be brutish thugs, but the Vorta leading them have more than a few brain cells between their ears. Don’t get careless!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Standing by to increase our transwarp speeds, sir.” Tezel said from the helm. “Coordinating with the rest of the flotilla.”

“Steady as she goes, lieutenant.” Garak said.

“Yes, sir.” Tezel said, eyes on his console. “Now at Trans-Warp Factor 1.94…1.95…1.96…”

The Culat shook violently, and Garak opened a channel to engineering. “Engineering,” he barked, eyes on his command console. “Stabilize the quantum integrity field for our warp bubble.”

“Compensating as we speak, sir!” The chief engineer replied.

Garak set his jaw as the Culat shook again, then again, and then finally evened out. “We’re at Trans-Warp Factor 1.98…!” Tezel loudly said. “…1.99…Trans-Warp Factor 2!”

Garak sat back in his seat with a satisfied smile. “Well done, commander.” He said, speaking to his engineer. “Well done, everyone.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Approaching Yellow Line, captain.”

Annika looked to the helm from the tactical station, where she’d been conferring with Melendez and – by holographic representation – the ship’s gunnery and torpedo chiefs. “Bring us down to the Trans-Warp Factor 1, Vasror.” She said. “Standby to ease us down to maximum warp.”

“Aye, captain.” Vasror said, working at his holographic interface. “Slowing to Trans-Warp Factor 1.”

Annika nodded, and turned back to the tactical station. So far so good, all phaser banks were fully-charged and operational, the automatic systems for the ship’s point-defenses were reading no problems, and the ship’s shields were fully-functional. With regard to quantum torpedoes, they were down nearly a quarter of a hundred from their last skirmish, along with one tricobalt device, but there were plenty more available. Enough so that they didn’t need to worry about running out of ordnance should they have to go into battle – as they likely would – soon.

“Approaching Red Line, captain.” Vasror said.

“Acknowledged,” Annika said. “Bring us down to maximum warp, and disengage quantum integrity fields.”

“Aye, captain.” Vasror said. “Coming down from transwarp…holding steady at Warp 9.975, quantum integrity fields disengaging with no problems. System connections…all green.”

“Hold our course.” Annika said, walking forward and down to stand behind her seat. “Any more word from the battlefield?”

“Last update was thirty-one minutes ago, captain.” Zhessesi said. “More Federation reinforcements have arrived, two additional Luoyang Class, and six Hastings Class. Our lines are holding, and the Dominion has not attempted to move beyond the wormhole’s vicinity so far.”

“They must be planning to secure their beachhead into our universe before going any further.” Jut said.

“Assuming they know they’re in an alternate universe, of course.” Annika pointed out. “For all we know, they might just be thinking they’re in the Federation’s rear areas, hence the – presumably, from their perspective – unknown classes of Federation warships that they’re up against.”

“As you say, captain.”

“That aside, though,” Annika said with a sigh. “Securing your beachhead before going any further is smart. The Jem’Hadar might be a bunch of moronic thugs, but the Vorta aren’t.”

“Brawn and brains, huh, captain?”

Annika just hummed before stepping around and settling down into her seat.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AD 2374 (Prime Timeline)

“Listen up, everyone.” Captain Benjamin Sisko began while addressing the Defiant’s bridge crew. “We’ve received new orders. Starfleet Intelligence has discovered that the Dominion recently sent a fleet of over five hundred ships to a spot in the middle of empty space in the Bajoran Sector. At least, we thought it was empty space. Further investigation by Starfleet Intelligence has discovered that there’s a previously-unknown wormhole there. And the Dominion apparently knows it too.”

Sisko paused and swept his eyes over the crew. “We still don’t know where or when this wormhole leads to.” He continued. “We don’t know either if it’s a natural or artificial wormhole, much like the wormhole at Deep Space Nine is. What we do know is that there’s something on the other side of the wormhole that’s important enough for the Dominion to send over five hundred ships through. And we need to know why and what, even if only for the chance that we can use it against them.”

Sisko again paused to regard the crew. “That said,” he continued. “As much as I hate having to ask all of you to undertake this dangerous mission without me coming with you, I must ask. With the upcoming operation to retake Deep Space Nine, I’m needed here to coordinate with Admiral Ross while overseeing planning and preparations for said operation. Therefore, Commander Worf will be commanding the Defiant on this mission.”

Turning to the Klingon in question, Sisko presented him with a new rank pin to mark him as full-fledged commander of the Federation Starfleet. “Congratulations on your promotion, commander.” Sisko said, firmly shaking hands with newly-minted commander. “And good luck.”

“Thank you, sir.” Worf said with a nod, and Sisko smiled at him.

“Captain Picard’s always spoken well of you and your abilities.” He said. “Not once have I ever found his confidence misplaced in the past, and I’m sure I won’t find it in the future either.”

Worf simply nodded in response, before Sisko gestured for him to feel free to address the rest of the Defiant’s crew. “Before we depart,” Worf began. “There is something you must know. Before this meeting, Captains Sisko and Picard informed me that the being known as Q has given a warning that the Federation will soon have an encounter that could result in finding ourselves with new allies not just in this war, but for the years that follow…if we get the encounter right. Therefore, in addition to being a stealth reconnaissance mission, this mission will also be operating in anticipation of a potential First Contact scenario.”

“While Starfleet Command’s still somewhat skeptical,” Sisko added. “After speaking with Captain Picard, and knowing him like I do, I see no reason not to take his words with all due consideration. And I don’t know about any of you, but both Captain Picard and myself don’t think it’s just coincidence that we – and the Dominion – find this wormhole soon after receiving such a warning.”

“Nor I, for that matter.” Worf said. “It would be wise not to make any assumptions, and to be prepared for anything and everything that could happen.”

“Any further questions?” Sisko asked.

“No, sir!” the crew chorused, and Sisko turned back to Worf.

“They’re all yours, captain.” He said.

“Thank you, sir.” Worf replied, and Sisko nodded at him before lowering his voice.

“Bring them back safely, Worf.” He said. “I know it’s selfish asking something like that when we’re at war, but as far as I’m concerned, to hell with that. We’ve lost too many good people in this war already, and I don’t want to lose any more if we can help it.”

“I feel the same way, sir.” Worf admitted. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.” Sisko said with a heartfelt tone. “And once again, good luck.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“What exactly did…Q, say to Captain Picard?” Lieutenant-Commander Jadzia Dax asked as she walked with Worf along the starbase’s corridors.

“According to the captain,” Worf replied. “The being calling himself Q used more…flowery, language to deliver his warning. Apparently, he described it as a test of our ability to keep an open mind, and if we pass it, then help and new friendships will come of it. He also mentioned that old doors we once thought closed possible could open again, which Commanders Data and La Forge interpreted as possibly implying technologies we once thought impossible to achieve could be if we succeed.”

“…no offense to Captain Picard,” Jadzia said after a moment. “But it seems like a rather big assumption to think a First Contact could be what Q means.”

“Perhaps…” Worf conceded. “But at the very least, we must be prepared for the possibility. The Dominion sending such a large force through the wormhole does support the possibility of another species on the other side. I believe the Humans have a saying for it: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“So long as they don’t turn on us afterwards.” Jadzia said, before smiling at Worf as he gave her an exasperated look. “Just putting it out there, and you know it’s something to be worried about, just in case.”

“…a prudent call.” Worf conceded. “Equally-prudent is being prepared in case this mission requires we fight in battle.”

“There shouldn’t be a problem with that.” Jadzia remarked. “We have a full load of quantum and photon torpedoes. No tricobalt devices, but the torpedoes should be enough, and they do have a versatility that tricobalt devices lack.”

“What of other supplies?” Worf asked.

“We’re fully-stocked on non-replicable spare parts and materials,” Jadzia said. “Though for the details, you’ll need to talk to Chief O’Brien or Doctor Bashir.”

“I will once we have the time.” Worf said.

“…just relax, Worf.” Jadzia said, coming to a halt and forcing Worf to come to a halt as well. “It’s not like this is your first command, and while it’s an important mission, we’ve all done plenty of those before. Just do what you have to do.”

“Yes…you are right.” Worf admitted with a nod. “There is no reason whatsoever to be anxious. Instead, we would all be better served by conducting myself with courage and fortitude.”

Jadzia smiled wider. “That’s the way, Worf.” She said while briefly caressing a cheek. “Now, let’s get moving. We only have an hour before we have to be underway. After you.”

Worf nodded, and resumed walking with Jadzia following half a step behind him.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Well, I wanted to be where adventures are made,” Lieutenant/Doctor Julian Bashir mused to himself while working at the bridge medical station of the Defiant. “Where heroes are made…in the wilderness…”

Bashir sighed and then internally winced as he remembered the lecture then-Major Kira Nerys had given him on hearing him say that. “I suppose I did have it coming.” He mentally admitted.

“You alright?” Senior Chief Petty Officer Miles O’Brien asked, coming over after hearing Bashir sighing as though having trouble of some kind.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Bashir said before giving a cough to regain his composure. “Just…thinking, that’s all…”

“…those are heavy thoughts, then,” O’Brien said. “What with that sigh of yours?”

Bashir chuckled at that. “I don’t know why or how,” he began. “But I’m getting a sense of foreboding on this mission. I know, I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve passed through a wormhole, or visited another, virtually-unexplored region of space. Granted, this is an important mission, one that could turn the tide in the war, but still…”

“It’s probably just nerves then.” O’Brien said, patting Bashir on a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, everyone gets them every once in a while, even experienced hands like ourselves. It’s just part of being Human, that’s all.”

“True…”

“Personally,” O’Brien continued. “I find keeping myself busy on my duties works wonders at calming nerves down. Give it a try.”

“I already am.” Bashir quipped, and then shared a laugh with O’Brien. The laughter died though, as Worf and Jadzia finally arrived.

“Report!” Worf barked as he proceeded to the command station in the middle of the bridge, while Jadzia took her post at the helm station, a nondescript, fellow junior officer sitting next to her at the tactical station.

“Our engines are good to go,” O’Brien immediately said and sharing a nod with Cadet Nog. “And the cloaking device is fully-operational.”

“Weapons and shields ready at your command.” The tactical officer reported.

“Communications are standing by,” the equally-nondescript communications officer added. “And we’ve also received the modified First Contact protocols provided by Captain Picard.”

“Medical is standing by for any and all emergencies.” Bashir said in his turn.

“Docking control’s given us the all-clear,” Jadzia then said. “We’re ready to launch on your command.”

Worf nodded before taking his seat, while O’Brien moved to sit next to Nog at the engineering station. “Then proceed,” Worf ordered. “Take us out of dock at one-quarter impulse, then bring us to a heading for the new wormhole.”

“Aye, captain.” Jadzia said while working away at the helm console. “One-quarter impulse.”

Worf nodded, settling into the command station as the Defiant cleared the dock before heading to and through the docking bay doors, and into open space. Then the ship banked and headed further out to space, stars filling the screen in their billions. “Standing by to engage warp drive.” Jadzia said.

“Then engage,” Worf said. “Maximum warp.”

“Aye, captain: maximum warp.”

The Defiant’s nacelles flashed, and then seeming to stretch out into the distance, the ship vanished in a flash of light, jumping to warp in a single instant.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Things are heating up, yes?

You might be wondering why I sidelined Sisko for Worf…well, there’s the reason he gave in-story. That, and I like Worf, so I want to give him a bigger role for once (unlike in TNG where he exists to be beaten up so the bad guys can look tough).

And then we have our resident Augment, Doctor Julian ‘It’s immoral’ Bashir. This is going to be so fun.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 4​

“So…what do you think we’ll find on the other side of that wormhole?” Nog asked while sitting at a table with Bashir and O’Brien, and then poked and prodded at his food. “I mean, it’s a four-day trip there even at maximum warp, and that’s a pretty long time where minds wander and comes up with all sorts of fantastic expectations and fears. I mean…from what they taught us at Starfleet Academy, one way to avoid or to deal with stress is to talk about it, apart from keeping busy, of course. Though you can’t keep busy all the time or you’ll wear yourself out too…”

Bashir and O’Brien shared an amused and indulgent look at Nog’s fresh and youthful enthusiasm, something they’d all gone through in the past. More recently in Bashir’s case, but he’d since grown out of it, as would Nog soon enough. But so long as it didn’t cause trouble, until he did, Nog’s enthusiasm was a bright spot in these all-too serious times.

Seeming to realize he was running his mouth off, Nog abruptly clammed up. “Sorry, sirs.” He said. “I’ve said too much, and I might be intruding. If you’ll excuse me…”

“No, no,” O’Brien said, waving Nog and gesturing for him to stay where he was. “It’s fine. Best to let all that excess energy of yours out in times like this, otherwise you might get too jumpy when and where you shouldn’t.”

“Besides, we used to be cadets too.” Bashir said while coiling some pasta around a fork, before putting it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, making sure his mouth was empty before speaking again. “We understand the feeling.”

“Right, sirs.”

“And what do you think is on the other side of that wormhole, cadet?” O’Brien asked.

“Well, there’s obviously something important enough to send over five hundred ships through.” Nog said. “It could be another species or polity…that, or they found something they need to secure before bringing it back.”

Bashir and O’Brien looked at each other. “Either way,” the latter began. “Any ideas on dealing with it?”

Nog finished chewing and swallowing before answering. “Well,” he replied. “There’s Captain Picard’s new First Contact protocols, in particular the part where we need to emphasize the differences between us and the Dominion, as well as the fact that we’re not an enemy. Of course, we can’t look weak either, or the enemy might not see us worth negotiating with, and would just tell us to leave so they can focus time and effort on the Dominion. But we can’t look too strong either, as it might make us look like we’d be the next enemy after the Dominion is gone so…”

“Good to see you’ve been keeping up to date.” Bashir interrupted with an approving smile.

Nog smiled back proudly. “Captain’s orders.” He said. “I’ve got to follow them to the best of my ability. Besides, we all have a part to play if it’s a First Contact scenario, and I wouldn’t want to be the one to spoil it when the future of the Federation could be at stake.”

Bashir nodded in agreement. “Right priorities, cadet.” He said.

“Thank you, sir!”

“But that’s just for a First Contact scenario.” O’Brien returned to the conversation. “What if the Dominion found something else? An artifact or a relic of some kind, maybe even a weapon or superweapon, like something made by an ancient, long-dead civilization.”

“Well, we’d first need to find out what it is.” Nog replied. “What it’s supposed to do, and how. Without answering those questions first, we won’t be able to make intelligent decisions.”

“That’s true.” O’Brien said with a nod. “And then what?”

“…depending on what we find,” Nog said after a few moments’ thought and a couple of spoons of food. “We could try taking it from the Dominion and bringing it back with us to the Federation. If it’s an artifact or a relic, then it might have something worth learning about. I know, I know, right now our priority should be to defend the Federation, but Starfleet’s not just…no, it’s more than just a force that defends the Federation. We’re soldiers second, and explorers and scientists first. So even if it’s no use to the war, we should bring it back, so when the war’s over and won, we can study and learn what we can from whatever we found and rescued from the Dominion!”

“So confident we’re going to win.” Bashir remarked.

“Of course we’re going to win!” Nog enthusiastically said.

“And why so confident at that?” Bashir asked. “The war’s not exactly been easy going, in fact, we’re actually struggling if you think about it.”

“…true.” Nog admitted after a moment and a spoon of food. “But we can’t think of losing. Because if we did, then we’d already have lost. On the inside, at least.”

Bashir and O’Brien shared another glance at that. “Psychology…” O’Brien mused. “…not a bad reasoning, all things considered.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But what if it’s a weapon or superweapon, though?” O’Brien pressed. “Then what?”

“Then if we can’t bring it back with us,” Nog said. “We should destroy it, if only to avoid the Dominion using it against us.”

“But we could use it ourselves too, can’t we?” O’Brien asked. “Maybe even learn something from studying it.”

“It won’t matter if the Dominion is able to use it against us.” Nog countered. “Though even if we do destroy it, just knowing it’s a weapon and even the most basic of how it works is worth something. We could put the pieces together ourselves later…if it’s worth putting together, that is.”

“And what do you mean by that, cadet?” Bashir asked.

“Well…like I said…it has to be worth putting together.” Nog pointed out. “Some weapon technologies are just too dangerous to ever be used. Like subspace weapons, which were banned at the Khitomer Accords.”

“Nog,” O’Brien began while picking up his glass to take a drink. “Keep this up, and you just might make a fine officer.”

“Thank you, sir!”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the Defiant continued its journey to the wormhole, elsewhere in the galaxy, the Enterprise-E was cruising at Warp 5 to patrol contested space in the Tellarite Sector. In his ready room, Picard sat behind his desk, reading a book of Vulcan poems while a cup of Earl Grey steamed on a saucer at his desk.

A chime sounded, asking for permission to enter the room. “Come.” Picard laconically replied, before closing the book.

The doors to the ready room opened, allowing Riker to enter. “You needed something, Number One?” Picard asked while taking his teacup and taking a drink.

“I just thought you’d like to know, sir.” Riker began while standing in front of Picard’s desk. “The Defiant’s just two days away from the wormhole’s expected location. While they’ll scout things out first on our side of the wormhole, they’ll probably pass through it within a day of arrival.”

“Knowing Mister Worf,” Picard said. “He’ll try to expedite that as much he can.”

Riker smiled in agreement, knowing that despite what it might sound like, the captain had complete faith in Worf’s judgment. Picard saying so of the Klingon officer wasn’t a reflection of recklessness on Worf’s part, as much as it was his ability in taking swift and decisive action.

“If I may say so, sir,” Riker began. “You’d be much happier if it were us and not the Defiant heading to that wormhole.”

“So I am.” Picard admitted with a sigh. “At the expense of giving the impression of arrogance, to my knowledge, there is no one in Starfleet more experienced in handling Q’s schemes than we are.”

“Or you, sir, specifically.” Riker said. Picard didn’t reply, but Riker had served with him long enough to know without hearing it that Picard agreed. “With all due respect, sir, there’s no solid evidence that the wormhole and what the Dominion are looking for beyond it are what Q was talking about.”

“So you’ve said in the past.” Picard said with a smile, and Riker smiled back. “In any case, Mister Worf is a fine officer. He might not necessarily make the same decisions as I would, but I trust his judgment.”

“Sisko promoted him.” Riker reminded Picard.

“So I’ve heard.” Picard said with a nod. “And it’s well-deserved. While the Defiant will almost certainly return to Captain Sisko’s command upon her return, assuming all goes well, then I’d say Commander Worf will be quite qualified for a command of his own.”

“That’d be something to see.” Riker said, and Picard smiled again.

Then both men were starting as alarms began to sound. “Red alert,” Data’s voice sounded across the ship. “Captain Picard and Commander Riker to the bridge.”

The two men glanced at each other, and then Picard was hurrying around his desk, striding past towards the door, Riker just a step behind him. “Mister Data,” Picard began after tapping his communicator. “Report.”

“Captain,” Data began. “Long-range sensors are picking up four Jem’Hadar attack ships on our tail. They are closing fast and charging weapons.”

Then the Enterprise-E shook, no doubt from enemy fire. “They’ve opened fire, sir.” Data reported as both Picard and Riker entered the turbolift. “Photon torpedoes.”

“Return fire.” Picard ordered as the Enterprise-E shook again. “Make sure to constantly-rotate our shield frequencies to deter boarders. Drop us out of warp, and standby on phasers.”

“Aye, sir.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Picard and Riker emerged from the turbolift in time to see a Jem’Hadar attack ship destroyed by a direct hit from a quantum torpedo. “Report.” Picard said while heading to his ship. Then the Enterprise-E shook, the viewscreen showing a pair of Jem’Hadar ships weaving around and past, disruptors blazing away at the Enterprise-E. Phasers lanced out in response, battering the two Dominion ships’ shields.

“We’ve destroyed two Jem’Hadar ships.” Data replied. “One before dropping out of warp, and another just now.”

“Take evasive action,” Picard ordered. “Concentrate our fire, and destroy those ships one by one.”

“Aye, sir.” The tactical officer replied.

Phasers lanced out in orange beams, hammering away at a Jem’Hadar ship despite her desperate efforts to escape. A portion of her shields collapsed, allowing a phaser to cut into her hull. A torpedo run by the other remaining Jem’Hadar ship saved her, but while it shook the Enterprise-E, it failed to do any real damage.

“Shields down to seventy-four per cent.” The tactical officer responded. “Captain, the Jem’Hadar ship is moving to ram us.”

“Shoot it down before it can!” Riker barked.

The Enterprise-E opened fire with its phasers, ignoring disruptor strikes by the other Jem’Hadar ship. Then blue light flashed brightly through space, as a volley of four quantum torpedoes was launched. The phasers collapsed the Jem’Hadar’s shields, and then the torpedoes blew their ship apart.

“Only one left.” Riker said. “They might as well retreat, and fight another day.”

“The Jem’Hadar have not been known for such a course of action.” Data opined.

“They’re trying to ram!” the tactical officer warned.

“Helm, take evasive action!” Picard barked. “Tactical, destroy that ship!”

The Enterprise-E banked hard, angling and rolling away from the last Jem’Hadar ship, phasers lancing out repeatedly to hammer at her shields. Then quantum torpedoes lashed out, three collapsing her shields, and the fourth wrecking the ship. Still, the surviving Jem’Hadar tried to keep going, only for a final phaser strike to destroy their ship.

Even as the phaser was fired though, light shimmered on the Enterprise-E’s bridge, two Jem’Hadar materializing in moments. They leveled disruptors, but one was shot dead by a trio of phaser shots to the chest.

The other Jem’Hadar initially tried to aim his disruptor at Picard, but then Data was lunging at the Dominion warrior with inhuman speed. The Jem’Hadar clubbed the android with his disruptor, but it didn’t even faze Data. Grabbing the Jem’Hadar by an arm, Data quickly forced the warrior’s arm behind his back, and then reaching around with his free hand, grabbed the Jem’Hadar by the jaw before twisting his neck with an audible snap.

The Jem’Hadar fell dead to the deck. “Sorry, sir.” Data apologized. “I was delayed by 0.024 seconds by surprise.”

“No harm done, Mister Data.” Picard said reassuringly. “Scan the surrounding area of space, make sure there aren’t any more surprises in store for us. Also, report this encounter to Starfleet Headquarters, they’ll want to know about it. Helm, once scans are complete, take us back to Warp 5.”

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman replied, even as Data hurried back to his station to perform the scans himself.

“Number One…?” Picard said with a gesture at the Jem’Hadar’s bodies, but Riker was already on the move.

“Already on it, sir.” He said, and Picard nodded once.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Dropping out of warp, captain.” Jadzia said as they arrived at their destination. “Maintaining our distance at one light-second from the wormhole.”

“Do we have a visual?” Worf asked.

“Putting it up on screen.” The operations officer replied.

Worf narrowed his eyes at the viewscreen, the wormhole appearing as a pool of slick oil in space, barely visible to the naked eye by the way it distorted any and all starlight falling on it. “Any sign of Dominion ships in the area?” Worf asked.

“No sign of Dominion ships anywhere within one thousand light-seconds of the wormhole, sir.” The operations officer said. “I could try extending scans further, but it’s unlikely they’d have any guards or patrols any further out, if even at our current scanning distance, without effectively leaving the wormhole unguarded. I do detect numerous tachyon trails leading into the wormhole, though so far, none leading out. At least, none within the past few days. Any trails older than that would have either dispersed naturally or by the trails of ships entering the wormhole.”

“How recent is the most recent of the tachyon trails?” Worf asked.

“…it’s approximately six hours old, sir.” The operations officer replied.

Worf hummed in thought at the reply. “The Dominion would not have left the wormhole unguarded unless they had completely secured the other side.” He finally said. “Alternatively, the guards were called to the other side as emergency reinforcements, which would mean additional Dominion reinforcements are en route even as we speak.”

“Orders, sir?” Jadzia asked.

Worf glanced in Nog’s direction at the engineering station. “Status of the cloaking device?” he asked.

“Operating normally, sir.” Nog replied. “Though Chief O’Brien is asking permission to make some adjustments, in order to mask our tachyon emissions using the leftover tachyons of the Dominion ships which passed by earlier.”

Worf nodded in agreement. “A sound proposal,” he said. “He may proceed.”

“Yes, sir.” Nog said before relaying Worf’s approval to O’Brien in engineering.

“Helm,” Worf ordered. “Standby for emergency jump to maximum warp. There is no glory to be found in vain battle.”

“Yes, sir.” Jadzia said.

“Standby to launch probe.” Worf continued. “Have it proceed through the wormhole at one-quarter impulse, sensors set to broad-spectrum sweep. Find out everything there is to know about the passage, its dimensions and hazards, its nature and features, and how long it will take us to pass through ourselves.”

“Aye, sir.” The operations officer said.

“Continue sweeping the surrounding space with our sensors as well.” Worf said. “Be watchful for anything that seems out of place. I do not want any unpleasant surprises to our rear for when we finally pass through the wormhole.”

“Aye, sir.” The operations officer repeated.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“The wormhole’s dimensions appear to be roughly-uniform across its length.” Jadzia explained while meeting with the Defiant’s command crew over four hours later. “Both exits appear to have a diameter of approximately thirteen thousand kilometers across, maintained as the wormhole’s width across its whole length. Length…impossible to determine, due to temporal-spatial interference from the wormhole’s boundary. The interior is also dotted with drifting pockets of atomic hydrogen, with densities up to an estimated five hundred atoms per cubic centimeter. The probe also detected up to seven thousand dead comets inside, with possibly many more. Both the comets and the hydrogen’s origin is unknown. There are also does not appear to be any radiation sources in the wormhole. In fact, aside from its boundary’s own temporal-spatial interference, I’d say the wormhole is relatively-inert.”

“So it is safe for us to proceed?” Worf asked from the head of the table.

“It should be, yes.” Jadzia answered with a nod. “The temporal-spatial interference only prevents detailed scans of the wormhole itself, not its interior, and has no effect on objects passing through. Beyond funneling them across time and space, of course, but that is only to be expected of a wormhole.”

“No wreckage of Dominion ships have been found.” O’Brien said. “Meaning they passed through normally, and presumably safely.”

“Just in case, I recommend we should proceed with our shields raised,” Bashir began. “And with maximum possible countermeasures against known radiation emissions that practicality allows.”

“A prudent call,” Worf said with a nod. “I am inclined to agree. That said, earlier it was mentioned that the probe was destroyed on exiting the wormhole.”

“Yes, but not immediately.” Jadzia said with a nod of her own. “The proximity alert warned of a large, slow-moving, and relatively-inert object ahead of the probe. It attempted to evade, but its automated systems were unable to fully compensate.”

“It did manage to send some data about what it collided with, though.” O’Brien said. “Duranium alloys of various compositions, as well as other metallic elements and polymer compounds…if I had to guess, it collided with the hull of a ship. Could be Dominion…or someone else’s, on the other side.”

“…we won’t find our answers by simply sitting here.” Worf said after a moment’s thought. “We must find out why the Dominion crossed this wormhole, and who or what they found on the other side. Doctor, chief: make the necessary preparations to protect our crew from potential exposure while passing through the wormhole.”

“Yes, sir.” Bashir and O’Brien chorused.

Worf nodded. “By this point it’s exceedingly-likely that this will be a First Contact scenario.” He said. “All crew are to review the modified First Contact protocols while preparations are underway, and again during our passage.”

“It’ll take us about four hours to get ready.” Bashir estimated, and O’Brien nodded in agreement. “Two if we hurry things up…”

“While a reduction in delay is preferable,” Worf interrupted. “I believe prudence would serve us better here.”

Bashir and O’Brien nodded. “Assuming we go at one-quarter impulse,” Jadzia said. “It’ll take us approximately two hours to pass through the wormhole. That gives us a total of six hours to review the modified First Contact protocols.”

“Six hours will be plenty for Starfleet personnel.” Worf said, and no one could disagree. It wasn’t like they were untrained for First Contact scenarios. The protocols guiding their actions might be different, but when all was said and done, this wasn’t something they were unprepared for.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Approaching wormhole terminus.” Jadzia said from the helm station six hours later. “Standby to exit the wormhole.”

The trip through the wormhole had proceeded without incident, though even Worf found himself feeling anxious and apprehensive at the utter darkness of the wormhole’s interior. Some comfort had been found by keeping the viewscreen on reverse view, the starlight falling through their side of the wormhole a marked contrast to the darkness within.

But that hadn’t lasted long, the terminus growing smaller and fainter behind them, and finally fading out sight about three hours into their journey. To keep the crew’s minds on their jobs, Worf ordered them to red alert from yellow alert.

That aside, the trip had proceeded as they expected it to. Despite their precautions, there didn’t really seem a need for them, as no radiation was emitted inside the wormhole. They encountered and passed through more than a few hydrogen pockets, ran across a number of dead comets even, and needing to go around one particularly large dead comet, but everything had proceeded well, all things considered.

“Approaching event horizon,” Jadzia said, adjusting her controls and taking a breath. “Emerging from wormhole in three, two, one…”

One moment there was only darkness in front of them…

…and in the next, much of the starry expanse of the galaxy was blotted out by the drifting hulk of a Jem’Hadar Battleship. And they were heading straight for it at one-quarter impulse.

“Oh shit!” Jadzia uncharacteristically swore, sharply banking up the z-axis, practically skimming over the surface of the wreck. Officers and crew alike struggled to stay at their stations as Jadzia rolled while continuing to climb, narrowly avoiding more debris and wreckage. “That was too close.”

“That said, well done…”

Worf’s words trailed off, the bridge falling silent as they watched a battle being fought all around them. Energy beams lanced or burst through space in a kaleidoscope of light, punctuated by flashing torpedoes and the blinding explosions of breached warp cores.

“…uh, sir?” Nog began, the first to recover. “Is it just me, or is the Dominion fighting…Starfleet?”

Sounds of surprise echoed across the bridge, and Worf leaned forward in his seat. Eyes were drawn to starboard, where a pair of Jem’Hadar Battlecruisers cruised at full impulse, disruptors blazing away as they engaged a number of small ships that bore more than a passing resemblance to the Defiant, orange bursts blazing from their forward-facing phaser banks, hammering at the battlecruisers’ shields.

Then another Jem’Hadar Battlecruiser was cruising past, cutting across their heading and forcing Jadzia to go to full impulse while taking evasive action. Polaron beams shot past across their field of view, even as another one of the Defiant lookalikes (or could pass for one) flew past.

“I don’t recognize the ship classes,” the operations officer softly said. “Or the transponder data and encryption, but from what I can see, it’s…Starfleet…or could pass for it very closely…”

“What’s going on here?” Bashir breathed.

Then they were looking away, as the Defiant flew within a few thousand kilometers of a Jem’Hadar Battlecruiser, as it took a direct hit from a torpedo, one which blew a wing clean off. And not just any torpedoes either.

“That was a quantum torpedo!” Jadzia breathed.

“That’s impossible!” Worf said. “Quantum torpedoes are Starfleet’s most advanced weapons! How could anyone have possibly…unless…they developed it on their own…or…”

Worf trailed off, the Defiant coming around in a wide circle, everyone’s eyes on a ship that was exchanging fire with another Jem’Hadar Battlecruiser. Said ship had a long, elliptical main hull, sharply-contoured with an engine section directly to its rear. Two deflectors were angled back in front of the engine section, one above and another below, while a quartet of nacelles extended outwards in an x from the engine section. And as phasers shattered the Jem’Hadar’s shields and wrecked their dorsal hull, the Defiant’s bridge crew wordlessly stared at the name written in Roman letters.

FNS Seoul.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Fire a tricobalt device!” Annika ordered as the Seoul flew past the crippled Jem’Hadar Battlecruiser.

“Firing!” Melendez said.

The tricobalt device flashed as it crossed thousands of kilometers in a matter of seconds. With its shields down and hull gutted, the Jem’Hadar Battlecruiser had no chance. The tricobalt device punched deep into its hull, and then exploding, reduced the battlecruiser to superheated debris and energetic molecules flying through space.

“Incoming attack ships!” Saul warned, before something else caught his attention.

“Intercept!” Annika barked.

“Intercepting!” Melendez said, fingers flashing over her interface.

Phasers lanced out as the Seoul banked sharply, hammering at the Jem’Hadar attack ships. They returned fire with polaron beams, but their shields failed first, and another volley of phasers turned them to burning wrecks breaking up in space.

“Captain,” Saul began. “You need to take a look at this.”

“What is it?” Annika said while bringing the matter up on her command interface. Then she blinked in surprise. “Tachyon emissions…characteristic of…Romulan cloaking devices? What the hell are they doing here?”

“Orders, captain?” Saul asked.

“Keep an eye on them for now.” Annika said. “We’ve got a battle to win, especially when we have the Jem’Hadar on the ropes. That said…Zhessesi, priority message to Admiral Garak. Tell him we might have a Romulan ship here, and that we’re keeping an eye on it until this battle ends.”

“Aye, captain.” Zhessesi said from the communication station. “Message sent.”

Annika nodded, and then gripped her armrests tightly as the Seoul shook from a torpedo impact. “Shields down to fifty-two per cent!” Melendez warned.

“Return fire!” Annika ordered. “Knock that battlecruiser’s shields down, and fire quantum torpedoes! Send those Jem’Hadar to the depths of Niflheim!”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

And so it begins.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 5​

Alarms screamed as Jem’Hadar materialized all over the Seoul, the Dominion able to match the cruiser’s shield frequencies long enough to beam boarding parties aboard. Three of them materialized on the bridge, aiming to take the captain and her command crew prisoner. The Jem’Hadar in the lead thought to start by holding Annika at gunpoint…

…and barely had the time to widen his eyes in surprise as she casually slapped the disruptor rifle out of his hands…

…and then the Jem’Hadar was flying across the bridge, his ruined skull splattering shattered bone, ruined flesh, and blood across the command deck from a single punch.

The remaining Jem’Hadar didn’t fare much better, as Saul and Melendez got to their feet and pulled out disruptor pistols in the time it took for the Jem’Hadar to bring their disruptor rifles to bear. In the next instant, green pulses shot through the air and gunned the Jem’Hadar dead, each warrior taking no less than four rounds through their torsos.

Well, one of them survived, gurgling and grasping on the deck…

…without batting an eyelid, Annika pulled her disruptor pistol from its holster, and shot the Jem’Hadar in the head.

“Status report!” she barked.

“…coolant leak in main engineering!” Jut replied after a glance at his station. “Wait, no…looks like Commander Marshall decided to just flood main engineering with plasma coolant to deal with the Jem’Hadar.”

“Nothing less than what the Jem’Hadar deserve.” Annika spitefully said while sitting back down. “Seal off main engineering until our crew secures the coolant. No need for any of our own to get liquefied like those Dominion bastards already have been.”

“Major H’au reports situation clear at the armory.” Jut gleefully reported. “Looks like a full squad tried to seize control over there, and ran into the marines guarding the place. Poor bastards…engineering also reports coolant has been secured, and main engineering is accessible again. That said, temperatures will take time to return to normal. A squad of marines have also arrived to make a security sweep just in case.”

“All decks reporting in.” Zhessesi said. “The only Jem’Hadar left on the ship are in the shuttlebay, but the marines are already clearing them out.”

“Confirmed,” Jut added. “Look like they sent two squads to engineering, one fire team up here, and a squad each to the armory and the shuttlebay.”

“…why the hell did they send a squad to the shuttlebay?” Annika wondered. “And only a fire team up here…”

Then she turned her seat, as the doors to the bridge opened, allowing a power-armored marine to step inside, disruptor rifle held at the ready. “Sorry we’re late, ma’am.” The man spoke through the helmet’s speakers. “Nearly a full squad appeared on the deck…oh, looks like you dealt with them already.”

“There were only three of them.” Annika said before narrowing her eyes. “They must have been going for a two-pronged attack. A single fire team secures the bridge proper, while the rest of the squad secures the surrounding deck. Not a bad idea…except these idiots must only have experience taking on Naturals before.”

“Never been gladder to have Augment Humans in our universe then.” Jut quipped.

Annika smiled…

…only to scowl as the Seoul shook from an impact. “Shields down to forty-five per cent.” Melendez warned. “Battlecruiser to forward starboard, down twenty-seven degrees.”

“Return fire,” Annika ordered. “Quantum torpedoes.”

“Firing!”

A volley of six quantum torpedoes launched at the battlecruiser, which rolled to evade. Three torpedoes missed, two collapsing her shields and another knocking out the ship’s impulse drives. “Finish it off!” Annika barked.

Melendez obeyed by firing another quantum torpedo, which punched into the battlecruiser’s engine section and compromised her antimatter containment. Antimatter wildly reacted with the surrounding matter, setting off a chain reaction that turned the battlecruiser into a blinding ball of superheated debris, plasma, and subatomic particles.

Annika nodded in approval before glancing at the tactical display. The Seventh Fleet – or what was present of it here and now – had assumed a conical formation, with the wormhole at the base and tapering to a point approximately a full light-second from the event horizon. Federation vessels flew in circles around that cone, all the while engaging the Dominion and keeping them from breaking out.

Except back through the wormhole, of course. If they wanted to retreat, then by all means. And if that seemed merciful…

…that was only an illusion. Admiral Garak simply wanted to avoid cornering the Dominion, as they might all too likely turn into cornered rats and prove themselves cleverer (or more vicious) than they seemed to be. Not that they showed any inclination to retreat, being fanatically-devoted to their so-called gods and all.

That, despite having lost over four hundred ships, including almost all their battlecruisers. In contrast, the Seventh Fleet had put two hundred and forty ships into the battle by this time, and lost only eighty ships out of those, mostly frigates and only twenty-eight cruisers. Of course, that didn’t count damaged ships or those forced to retreat, but still.

They’d already won. Now, if the Dominion would only retreat…

…or, assuming the Dominion was the Dominion across timelines and universes…

“…the Dominion ships are launching suicide runs en masse!” Zhessesi warned.

“Incoming attack ships!” Saul warned as well.

“Intercept!” Annika barked.

“Intercepting!” Melendez replied.

Orange beams lanced out from the Seoul, followed by the flashing blue light of quantum torpedoes. They hammered at the approaching attack ships, splattering against their shields until they failed, and once they failed, turned them to burning wrecks scattering across space.

Annika shook her head at the sight. “Madness…” she thought to herself. “…just madness…”

Oh she had no love for the Jem’Hadar or their Vorta overseers, but to so willingly choose meaningless death over leaving and be forced to inform their supposed gods…

…she couldn’t help but pity them. And despise the Founders not only for twisting them into such wretched existences, but continuing to twist and use both the Jem’Hadar and the Vorta as proxies to enforce their tyrannical rule over vast swathes of the galaxy. Making it worse was that both the Jem’Hadar and the Vorta were genetically-modified species, much like modern Humanity. There was…kinship there, common ground…

…and it only made her pity the Jem’Hadar and the Vorta more. They could have been more, but because of the Founders and the Dominion they served, this was all they would ever be: fanatical slave-soldiers and lieutenants who live and die in service to uncaring masters.

As the dead Jem’Hadar were taken from the bridge, Annika found her eyes drawn to the Jem’Hadar she’d killed earlier. As she took in the man’s ruined head, she couldn’t help but think – and not for the first time – that killing them was a mercy.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Do we have a sensor lock?” Annika asked, looking over Saul’s shoulder at the sensor station.

“More or less, ma’am.” Saul said. “They’re cloaked, so I can’t be completely sure, but by tracing the tachyon emissions, any misses should the shooting start should only be off by a few kilometers.”

“A few kilometers?” Annika echoed.

“Less than ten,” Saul specified. “But more than two kilometers.”

“Close enough.” Annika said, patting the man on a shoulder. “Good work…Melendez, standby on phasers and quantum torpedoes, firing pattern Maxima-Three on my mark. Zhessesi, signal Waterloo, Somme, and Gettysburg. Transmit our sensor data, and have them and their squadrons take a half-surrounding formation. If this cloaked ship, Romulan or not, decides to make a run for it, I want to make sure the only direction they can run to is right down our sights.”

“Aye, captain.” Zhessesi said with a nod, before turning to her station and contacting the frigates in question. Meanwhile Annika returned to her seat, and sitting down, looked at the tactical display. Elements of the Seventh Fleet had secured the area of space around the wormhole, while other elements scoured the battlefield for escape pods or survivors trapped in wrecked Federation ships. Other ships were scanning the wrecks of Dominion vessels, seeing to see if there was anything readily-salvageable, though the hulks would have to wait for dedicated salvage vessels to be recovered and towed to appropriate facilities for scrapping and recycling.

Computers, especially tactical and navigational ones, would be a boon to military and federal intelligence alike, and the sooner they got it the better.

And if nothing else, the duranium and other heavy metals present in the hulls could be put to good use after being processed.

Annika’s eyes though, primarily focused on the icons of the three frigate squadrons assigned to assist her in corralling this…interloper, in Federation space. Twelve Hastings Class Frigates, small ships, but with quite the bite, as their enemies knew quite well. Then she nodded, as their squadrons moved into their assigned positions.

“Melendez, standby.” Annika ordered. “Zhessesi, start broadcasting on all frequencies. Unidentified cloaked vessel, this is Captain Annika von Kreutzer of the Federation Cruiser Seoul. You are in violation of sovereign Federation space, stand down, lower your cloak and shields, and identify yourself or be considered hostile. I repeat…”

“Captain,” Jut interrupted. “They’re dropping their cloak. And…”

The commander trailed off, all eyes on the bridge focused on what could easily pass for one of their own frigates. “Dimensions?” Annika asked.

“About one hundred and fifty meters in length, captain.” Saul answered. “About halfway between our Orleans and Hastings Class ships.”

“Well, it’s clearly a stealth frigate, if it comes with a cloak.” Jut opined. “Though…why are they using a Romulan cloaking device? Did they reverse-engineer theirs from the Romulans? Though that doesn’t really make much sense…”

“Captain, we’re being hailed.” Zhessesi said.

“We’ll have our answers soon enough.” Annika said. “Patch it through.”

“Aye, captain.”

The viewscreen then shifted from a view of the ship’s exterior, to a rather compact bridge. Annika raised her eyebrows at the sight of a Klingon in a…Federation (?) uniform, and was that a Ferengi? Wow…talk about surreal…

…the rest though…Humans, and what looked like a Trill…nothing unusual about that at all.

“I am Commander Worf, Captain of the Federation Starship Defiant.” The Klingon introduced himself, and once again surprising Annika. Not only was a Klingon serving in the Federation Navy, but was the commanding officer of a Federation vessel at that.

She already knew from the refugees that the Klingons were allies there much like here, but to actually let a Klingon command a Federation vessel? That was…unusual.

“I apologize for the discourtesy,” Worf began. “But as we were expecting trouble from the Dominion, I thought it prudent to remain cloaked while proceeding through the wormhole. And seeing as we’d emerged into the middle of a battle, I also thought it prudent to remain cloaked and avoid becoming targeted by the Dominion, and potentially by your forces.”

“And yet when the battle ended, you remained cloaked.” Annika said while smiling to take the edge off. “Were you perhaps waiting for ample time to pass and cool heads down, before making yourself known?”

“Once again, I thought it prudent.” Worf admitted. “Spirits high from the heat of battle could overreact on our dropping our cloak, with potentially…unfortunate, consequences. Though I will admit that you understandably found it suspicious and reacted accordingly.”

“So I did.” Annika said before getting to her feet and smoothing out her uniform. “Nevertheless, I see no point in making trouble over the past, especially when no harm was done. Better to move on and do better in the future…as odd as this may sound, welcome to the United Federation of Planets.”

The Trill turned her seat to look at her captain. “Looks like you were right, sir.” She said. “We managed to cross over to a parallel universe, likely through that wormhole back there.”

“You assume correctly, captain.” Annika said with a nod. “Rest assured, we do not blame you for letting the Dominion spill over your current conflict into our universe. As we understand it, the other side of the wormhole opens into Dominion-occupied space.”

“You are well-informed.” Worf remarked.

Annika raised a hand in a reassuring gesture. “Not from spying,” she said. “But from speaking with a group of refugees who accidentally passed through the wormhole while attempting to escape the Domionion. And indeed, who we saved from the Dominion.”

“Refugees…?” Worf asked.

“They’re being treated well, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Annika said. “I daresay we have much to talk about, and better in person than over a screen. Melendez, lower our shields. Captain Worf, I’d very honored if you would join me on the Seoul, to await Admiral Garak’s arrival. Like I said, there is much to talk about.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Annika and H’au stood in one of the Seoul’s transporter rooms, watching as Worf and his companion appeared on the pads in a shimmer of light. The latter almost immediately moved to step off the platform, only to be preempted by an arm across his torso from the Klingon.

“Permission to come aboard, captain.” Worf said, and Annika raised an eyebrow before smiling with approval.

Leave it to a Klingon to realize we’re a more militant organization than our counterparts in the Federation of their universe.

“Permission granted, captain.” Annika said before gesturing to the towering Catian next to her. “This is Major H’au, the commanding officer of the Seoul’s marine complement.”

“Captain.” The major said with a salute.

Worf looked confused for the briefest of moments, then returned a Klingon salute.

Are our counterparts that…pacifist, that they don’t have a salute? That’s…I don’t know…

“Captain…major…” Worf said while stepping off the platform before gesturing to the man following him. “This is Lieutenant Julian Bashir, the Defiant’s chief medical officer.”

“Captain…major…” Bashir said with a polite bow.

“Lieutenant…or would you prefer doctor?” Annika asked. “My CMO prefers the latter, to be honest.”

“I would prefer to be addressed as a doctor than by rank, yes.” Bashir said with a grateful smile and nod.

“I see.” Annika said. “Very well then…Captain Worf, Doctor Bashir, please follow me. Admiral Garak will be joining us in a bit, but I’m sure we can take the liberty of getting to know each other. Though it would be best to do so in a more comfortable location.”

“We would be grateful.” Worf said.

Annika nodded, and then turning sharply, led the way out of the room.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“This is…very surreal.” Bashir thought as he took his seat at the table in the Seoul’s conference room.

The most surreal thing of all was somehow making their way to a parallel universe. It was…unbelievable, and he’d have dismissed it out of hand if not for Worf telling him about a past experience involving a space-time anomaly that stranded him across multiple such parallel universes. He could even have provided proof…which unfortunately he couldn’t, the Defiant’s sensors lacking the precision needed to obtain them.

A Galaxy Class’ sensors would have the precision, as would any of the new Intrepid Classes or a dedicated science ship like the Nova Class…

…sadly, the Defiant wasn’t any of those. Still, Bashir and others on the Defiant crew had served with Worf long enough – O’Brien longer still – that they could take him at his word, no matter how unbelievable it might seem.

Back to parallel universes…

…well, at least the Federation was still here. And it was similar enough to the one they knew and lived in. Worf had told them about some of the parallel universes he’d visited, in fact, this one seemed similar to one of those, what with a Cardassian officer serving on this ship.

That said, it was still…surreal, to think this Federation – and Starfleet – seemed to have a more militant bent to it. Very similar to what he’d read and studied about their Federation and Starfleet as they had been in the latter part of the 23rd​ Century. The fact that everyone was wearing uniforms just like in those days, only ultramarine instead of burgundy, only emphasized the point even further.

And then this mention of Admiral Garak…

…it couldn’t be…

…could it?

Bashir blinked as a yeoman provided him and Worf with PADDs, even as Annika took her place at the head of the table. “The refugees proved very helpful in telling us all about your Federation and Starfleet,” she began. “And while I’m sure you could tell us more, we should wait for Admiral Garak to join us, to avoid any repetitions of facts.”

Worf nodded in agreement. “A wise decision,” he said. “It would save us plenty of time and effort.”

Annika nodded. “Indeed,” she said. “In the meantime, I’ve provided you common and publicly-known information about our Federation.”

“Not Starfleet, ma’am?” Bashir asked.

Annika favored him with a smile. “That is one of the differences between our timelines.” She said. “For your Federation, there is only one Starfleet that performs all interstellar roles, ranging from defense, to exploration and research. But for our Federation, defensive roles are entrusted to a separate navy and army, while a separate exploratory and science corps handles the roles implied in their name.”

Annika paused, and then spread her hands. “Though,” she said. “From what I understand, your Starfleet wasn’t all that different about a century either.”

“That is true.” Bashir said, before turning to his PADD. And then he blinked, as he found its interface very different from what he was used to. Instead of a touchscreen, the PADD had a holographic interface, and its multifunction display was…limited, compared to what he was used to.

Still, it wasn’t difficult to use, just…different. Bashir figured it out soon enough, as did Worf, and then began reading through historical files dating back to Earth’s 20th​ Century. No doubt to let them learn about their universes’ point of divergence, and to let them reach their own conclusions.

Well, they might be organized differently, and had developed along similarly-different lines as a culture, but at least they still shared their – Bashir and Worf’s – Federation’s respect for individual thought and judgment. Still…the point of divergence going back all the way to the 20th​ Century…

…wait…the Eugenics Wars…the Great Khanate staying neutral…growing Augment population…oh, no…oh no…no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

“Interesting…” Worf mused aloud. “Would it be reasonable to assume that every Human being on this ship, and in the Federation as a whole, are Augments?”

“…yes.” Annika said with a nod, hands folded on the table in front of her. “Does that bother you?”

“…not as such.” Worf said. “While there is good reason such widespread genetic engineering is forbidden for Humans in our Federation, and we Klingons have had our own…experiences, dabbling in the field, the Humanity of this universe appears to have mastered the science and either overcame or avoided the pitfalls your counterparts in our universe fell into. And in any case, the Prime Directive mandates that I respect your people’s choices with regard to the development of your culture and civilization.”

“No disrespect intended, captain,” Annika said. “But I must ask: you are willing to take our word at face value?”

“…a strange question,” Worf observed after a moment. “But I would answer yes. From what I understand of Earth history, the Augments of our universe would not have acted as restrained as you have. As you have treated us with courtesy thus far, I am willing to return the favor, and begin negotiations in good faith.”

Annika hummed while sitting in her seat, staring at Worf with an unreadable expression on her face. Worf stared back, and then after several long moments, Annika smiled and sat back. “You are a credit to your uniform, captain.” She said with audible respect. “As understandable as their prejudices might be, the refugees – or the Human ones, rather – were all too eager to act on them. You, in contrast, keep an open mind, willing to give the chance to see the differences and how we have managed to tame that which nearly doomed Augmentation technology in its infancy.”

“I am a Starfleet officer,” Worf said. “Not a frightened refugee or even an unbloodied civilian who knows nothing outside of his comfortable niche in life.”

“Yes, of course,” Annika said with a nod. “My apologies if I caused offense.”

Worf nodded, while Bashir swallowed dryly, struggling to keep from breaking out into a cold sweat, and his hands from visibly-trembling. He glanced at the captain from the corner of his eyes, then to the yeoman standing by the wall, embodiments of Humanity’s hubris and overweening pride right there.

No…more than that…closer…so very close…

…sitting in the same seat as him…

Right, Bashir? How could you even use that name, living the life that belongs to a murdered boy who disappeared into a clinic as a child?

“How did you do it?” Bashir croaked out.

“I beg your pardon, doctor?” Annika asked.

“How did your kind do it?” Bashir asked. “It’s all a matter of fact…even in your history…the Augments of the Eugenics Wars were tyrants and monsters…Khan might have been the best of them, with neither massacres nor overt oppression, but still…choosing neutrality during the wars before using the prospect of having to commit the mass murder of countless newborn Augment children to deter the Americans and Europeans after the other Augment rulers were brought down changes nothing…how…?”

“There’s nothing wrong with our genes.” Annika said with an edge to her voice. “It’s all a case of nature versus nurture.”

“What?”

“The first and second generation of Augments born during the 1960s and 1980s respectively were all raised in isolation.” Annika explained. “They only had themselves along with scientists and academicians for company while growing up. All the while they did so being taught that they were the future of Humanity, that unless they led the Human race and made all the decisions the Human race would only destroy itself, that their abilities put them above and beyond those not like them…”

Annika trailed off with a shake of the head. “…obviously they’re not going to become stable and well-adjusted adults with that kind of upbringing.” She said. “They grow up thinking they’re destined to be rulers and saviors, that their abilities are the be-all and end-all.”

“So what changed?” Bashir challenged.

“Those born from the 1990s onward were born to ordinary people.” Annika said. “Ordinary people who raised them not as future rulers or prospective messiahs, but as ordinary people as well. That they had to work and struggle for a living, that they had to find a proper place in society, and earn the respect and trust of the people around them instead of expecting it as a matter of course. That, is the difference.”

“But that can’t be it.” Bashir said while beginning to babble. “It just can’t be…the modified genes…the unbalanced neurotransmitters…the inevitable megalomania…the predisposition for violence and aggression…the drive for dominance and conquest…no…it just…”

“Yeoman,” Annika said with a faint air of exasperation. “Please go…”

“I already have it, captain.” The yeoman said while picking up a tray with glasses and a bottle of Orion brandy.

“Good thinking…” Annika said with a nod. “I’m sure the lieutenant can use a glass to brace himself with.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The yeoman poured a glass, then handed it to Bashir, who promptly grabbed it before drinking it down like a starving man. Annika raised an eyebrow while Worf looked on curiously. “Would you like a glass as well, Captain von Kreutzer, Captain Worf?” the yeoman politely offered.

“Thank you, but no.” Annika said.

“Please.” Worf said with a nod.

The yeoman served him a glass, then refilled Bashir’s who drank it more sedately this time. “I had no idea this topic affected you so much, doctor.” Annika began. “I apologize, but I thought it needed to be brought up as soon as possible, to get this…unpleasant business, out of the way first of all. That, and it’s agreed on our side that this was the point of divergence between our timelines.”

“…your reasoning and intentions can’t be faulted,” Bashir admitted after a moment, and jerkily nodding at Worf and Annika both. “I apologize for my disgraceful behavior. It won’t happen again.”

Annika nodded, while Worf just took a drink of his brandy, a clear sign he’d be having a talk with Bashir over this later. Then there was a chime, and Annika responded.

“Annika, here.”

“Captain,” Jut said over Annika’s multi-tool. “Admiral Garak is on the way.”

“Excellent,” Annika said with a nod. “Have him escorted to the conference room once he’s beamed over to the Seoul.”

“Yes, captain.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Poor Bashir…dude really needs help over that underlying sense of self-loathing for his nature as an Augment, in particular that ridiculous notion that he isn’t real, that ‘Julian Bashir’ died in a clinic as a child, and that he’s just a fake, a replacement for an unwanted child.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 6​

Everyone in the conference rose to their feet as the doors opened, allowing Admiral Garak to enter, followed by a lieutenant who was clearly his adjutant. Jut followed, splitting off from the admiral’s staff to join his CO, who had moved from the head of the table to sit to its right, as was her place as the Seoul’s captain.

“Admiral Garak.” She said, coming to attention and saluting. Next to her, Jut did similarly, while on the opposite side of the table, Worf and Bashir also saluted. Well, Worf used the Klingon salute and Bashir…

…he was essentially just copying what Annika and Jut did, but while a bit stiff and clumsy, it was a passable rendition. The yeoman along the wall saluted too, and were all waved down by Garak as he took his place at the table.

“At ease.” He said before taking his seat.

Annika and everyone else took their seats, but for Jut, Garak’s adjutant, and yeoman. “Commander,” Annika began while addressing her XO over a shoulder. “You may return to the bridge.”

“Yes, captain.” Jut said before saluting again, and then sharply turning, left the room.

Meanwhile Worf and Bashir kept their eyes discreetly and respectfully on Garak, surprised and caught off-guard by the apparent differences with their universe’s counterpart of the man. The Garak they knew was a firm Cardassian nationalist, if tempered with a sense of realism that led him to conclude that détente with the Federation was only in Cardassia’s best interests, and that the Cardassian Union’s current alliance with the Dominion would only lead to catastrophic consequences for their people in the future.

This Garak seemed to have assimilated fully into the Federation though, showing no sign of discomfort wearing a Federation Navy uniform. Then again, from what they’d read on their PADDs, Cardassia had been part of the Federation for the greater part of a century, so that wasn’t really surprising.

Another difference was that this Garak lacked the underlying air of…cynicism, and world-weariness, that their Garak had. On the contrary, this Garak had an air of iron resolve about him, something that reminded Worf of battle-hardened commanders like Admiral Ross and General Martok among others. Again, unsurprising, as their Garak was near-openly a spy, while this one was a career fleet officer.

Most jarring of all though was his appearance. His facial features would have been identical to their Garak’s…

…except for the trio of scars carved across his face, diagonally from the upper right to the lower left, as though by the claws of some kind of beast. The uppermost scar barely missed Garak’s left eye, but the center one cut right across his right eye, and was almost certainly the reason why that eye had been replaced by a mechanical replacement, polished metal surrounding a glassy orb that glowed a dull red.

Why the man hadn’t replaced it with a vat-grown replacement boggled Bashir on the inside, though Worf had some suspicions on the why.

In addition to his right eye, the center scar also removed much of Garak’s nose, while the lowest scar cut across his cheek and part of his lips. All in all, it gave the admiral quite the fearsome visage.

“Admiral,” Annika began with a nod. “If I may, I would introduce you to Commander Worf, Captain of the Defiant, and Lieutenant Julian Bashir, his chief medical officer.”

“Defiant, eh?” Garak said with a smile. “A fitting name for a ship commanded by a Klingon. The Federation Navy doesn’t have Klingon officers like your Starfleet does, but while I'm sure there’s a good reason for that, we can get to that later.”

“…thank you, sir.” Worf said after a moment.

“Now then,” Garak began. “I’m not a man to get bogged down in details. The refugees currently trying to settle down in Eboria have told us all about your version of the Federation and its Starfleet, and while the boys and girls over at intel are still poring over it, they also say it’s accurate enough. So I won’t pester you over that part of the story.”

“Understood, sir.” Worf said, and Garak turned to Annika.

“What have you told them about us?” he asked.

“I’ve given them a summary of the publicly-available history of our Federation,” Annika replied. “And beyond that, up to what seems to be the point of divergence between our timelines.”

“Earth’s Eugenics Wars, huh?” Garak mused before shaking his head. “Well, I’ve heard about the refugees – or at least the Human ones – making some minor trouble over not wanting to be near the genetically-modified Humans here, but that’s not really my problem, at least until it is.”

Garak tilted his head. “You have a question, captain?” he asked Worf.

“You mentioned Eboria, did you not?” Worf asked. “As I recall, that is the capital of the Maxia Sector. I assume then, that the wormhole did not open out in the Bajoran Sector of your Federation?”

“Bajoran Sector,” Garak echoed with another shake of his head. “It’s going to take a while before that phrase stops being so surreal…but yes, our terminus of the wormhole isn’t in the Bajoran DMZ, it’s here, in the Maxia Sector. Your terminus is in the Bajoran Sector though…”

“That is correct.” Worf said with a nod. “I am sure you are aware, but in our universe, the Holy Empire of Bajor did not exist, much less conquer the Cardassian Union. Instead, it was the Cardassian Union which conquered Bajor in the early-24th​ Century, until they were forced to restore Bajor’s independence in the late-24th​ Century.”

“After which Bajor promptly joined the Federation.” Garak said with another shake of his head. “Again, very surreal…concerning too, as I hear the Cardassians are allies of the Dominion in your universe, much like the Bajorans were in ours. Unsurprising, given how our histories appear to have been…mirrored, and inverted…but still concerning. I fear for my people’s fate in the future of your timeline.”

“If I may, admiral,” Annika began. “At the very least, the Cardassian Union of the other universe seemed to not nearly have been as…brutal, as the Holy Empire was.”

“As far as we know.” Garak countered. “And the Cardassian Union of the other universe – we’ll need to come up with a more dignified name soon – did conquer all Bajoran territory, something the Holy Empire didn’t succeed in doing to my people in our timeline. Granted, it was thanks to Federation intervention, but still…”

Garak paused and shook his head. “While I can hope that the other Cardassian Union didn’t sink to the same depravities as the Holy Empire did,” he said. “Given their greater success and the lack of concrete evidence to the contrary, we can’t conclude that just yet.”

“…yes, sir.” Annika said.

“If I may, admiral,” Worf began. “We would be willing to compare historical records of our…Cardassian occupation of Bajor, with your own historical records of the Bajoran conquest of Cardassian space. If nothing else, it would help put your mind at ease.”

“Thank you, captain.” Garak said with a nod. “That would be much appreciated…though only after our respective duties are done.”

“But of course.” Worf admitted.

“Now then,” Garak said, and drawing himself up. “I will get straight to the point: why are you here?”

“The first we knew of the wormhole was that the Dominion had sent five hundred ships through it.” Worf said. “Further investigation revealed the existence of the wormhole, and it was deemed concerning enough that we were sent to find out what or who the Dominion had found on the other side, enough to warrant the deployment of a fleet of five hundred ships.”

“And then what?” Garak prompted.

“We were to report back on the situation while avoiding detection.” Worf continued. “And on finding out what or who the Dominion had found, to take action as needed. If it was a threat, we were to either secure it for the Federation, or failing that, destroy it, and prevent it from being used against the Federation. Assuming it was an artifact, relic, or superweapon of some kind, that is.”

“And if it wasn’t?” Garak prompted again.

“Assuming the Dominion had found and engaged hostilities with another species or polity,” Worf said. “We were to make First Contact, and attempt to establish common ground against the Dominion.”

Garak nodded slowly in understanding. “That is logical, as the Vulcans would say.” He said. “Though I’d have thought you’d have professional diplomats with you, if you were to attempt First Contact…then again, from what I hear of your Starfleet, it’s not that surprising.”

The man paused and shrugged. “That said,” he began. “Only one ship? No offense intended to your ship, captain, but given the size of the Defiant, if I were in your superiors’ places, I’d have sent two stealth ships at the least. Despite the greater risk of discovery, it’d allow for greater tactical and operation flexibility should the situation call for it, and more than worth the risk.”

“…the Defiant is the only Federation ship with the stealth capability to conduct a reconnaissance operation so deep – as we assumed – in Dominion and unexplored space.” Worf said after a moment’s thought. “May I assume, that the Federation is not limited with regard to the use of cloaking devices?”

Both Annika and Garak raised eyebrows at that. “No, we are not.” The latter finally said. “We don’t use it as much as the Romulans and the Klingons do, but we do have a number of ships equipped with cloaking devices.”

“I see.”

“Is that why your ship is equipped with a Romulan cloaking device?” Annika asked.

“Yes,” Worf said with a nod. “The Federation was forced to agree not to develop or use cloaking technology over fifty years ago, following the Tomed Incident. With the Dominion invasion though, the Romulans agreed to a minor amendment, with the Romulans providing the Federation with a single cloaking device for use on a single ship. Any reconnaissance information obtained from use of the cloak is to be shared with the Romulans, and there are regular inspections to be sure the device is being used only according to the terms of the amendment.”

“I see.” Annika said with a nod, and narrowed her eyes. “Yes, that makes sense. From what the refugees said, the Federation – or rather, the coalition that preceded it – of your timeline only managed to pull a victory during the Romulan Wars by the skin of their teeth. Or should I say they didn’t lose?”

“That is accurate enough.” Worf conceded.

“And which in turn,” Annika continued. “Led to nearly two centuries of diplomatic crises, cyclic tensions, and minor skirmishes between the Federation and the Romulans, concluding in the Tomed Incident and its aftermath.”

“It certainly seems that way.” Bashir said, while going over his PADD. “Yes…according to your history, the Coalition of Planets in this timeline actually managed to stalemate the Romulans during the Romulan Wars, and forced them into a campaign of attrition that was costing them more than they could or would pay to keep fighting. Hence a stronger position for your Federation to bargain from in the decades and century that followed.”

“Well, now that you’ve found out about us,” Garak began. “What now, captain?”

“…as per our orders,” Worf admitted after a moment and a glance at Bashir. “I am to find common ground and seek your assistance against the Dominion.”

Garak hummed while tapping his fingers against the table, which Bashir recognized after a moment as matching the tune of a Cardassian folk song whose name he couldn’t quite remember. “Normally, I’d say you’re facing an uphill challenge, captain.” Garak finally said. “Not because of the Prime Directive, as you are a) a warp-capable civilization, and b) even if we did interfere, it’s against the Dominion, and not in your cultural or political development.”

“But…?” Worf prompted.

“You’re from an alternate universe…or should I say timeline?” Garak continued. “And from four years in the past according to our perspective. Some would say the Temporal Prime Directive would apply.”

“And what do you say, admiral?” Work challenged.

Garak smiled and sat back in his seat. “The Dominion sent five hundred ships against us.” He said. “We wiped them out, but we lost nearly a hundred ships to do it, and including over two dozen cruisers at that. And there’s nothing saying that the Dominion can’t send more. If you ask me, the Temporal Prime Directive doesn’t apply. Not when it’s been broken already. We can’t just sit here and hope the Dominion doesn’t come back, or if they do come back, similarly just sit here and let them keep hitting us. We need to take the fight to them, and make sure they can’t come back. Anything more follows from there.”

Worf nodded. “I am willing to cooperate to ensure such a mutually-beneficial outcome.” He said.

“Good!” Garak said, and pounding a hand against the table for emphasis. “The refugees told us a lot about the Dominion War in your universe, but it’s all civilian talk, and from the street level too. Starfleet officers like you should be able tell me better, and I’ll do what I can to get the prime minister to commit to helping for both our sakes.”

Worf and Bashir traded glances, and then turned back to Garak. “Where do you wish to begin, admiral?” he asked.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Computer,” Annika said while walking into her cabin, and pulling off her uniform jacket. “Access subspace communications network, civilian channels, destination Tau Ceti Prime.”

“Accessing…” the computer replied. “…available data packet found. State the desired communication format.”

“Real-time, audio only,” Annika continued. “Connect to the personal communications account of Friedrich von Kreutzer.”

“Acknowledged.” The computer replied. “Connecting…connected…standby for response.”

Annika nodded, even though the computer couldn’t see it, and headed to the cabin replicator for a cup of coffee while waiting for a response. She’d only just taken her first sip when the response finally came.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Her husband cheerfully greeted her. “How are you?”

“Stressed,” Annika replied. “Can’t really say much right now, but things got a little heated over here at the Maxia Sector. How about you though? Is this a bad time?”

“Right now, I’m alone in an external climber along and doing maintenance on the external casing of the Yggdrasil Orbital Tether.” Friedrich replied. “Oh, and I’m about…uh, six hundred kilometers or so above the ocean surface. So no, this isn’t a bad time.”

Annika snorted and then laughed, before taking her coffee to her cabin’s coffee table, and sitting down on the adjacent couch. “…it’s really nice, hearing your voice.” Annika said with a sigh. “It makes about half – at least – of the stress go away.”

“I’m sure talking about whatever it is that’s stressing you out would make the rest of it go away.” Friedrich replied. “But I understand. At least this much helps.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Friedrich replied. “Still, even if you can’t talk about whatever’s going down over there at the Maxia Sector, there’s still a lot to talk about. Not that I’d bore you talking about my work…”

“Your job’s not that boring…” Annika interrupted.

“Oh, so you’d like to hear about how many poly-crystalline composite plates have to be replaced this quarter of the Tau Ceti year.” Friedrich teased. “Or the average stress values the carbon nanotube core handles every month, and how many micro-fractures we have to seal in that same amount of time…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Annika said with a laugh. “I’m willing to hear anything you’d be interested in talking about, though.”

“Well…you know about that Trill running personnel affairs for the orbital tether company?”

“Judzi Karihl, right?” Annika said. “Of course I know about her, unless she got reassigned or left the company or something.”

“Oh no, she’s still around.” Friedrich said. “But she’s getting married next month, and we’ve been invited.”

“Damn…I can’t get back that soon.”

“Yeah, sorry about that…”

“We’re not too far from the Ferengi Alliance here though.” Annika mused. “I should be able to get something…shiny, for Judzi, and have it sent over to Tau Ceti. You can then present it as from both of us.”

“Shiny, really?” Friedrich dryly asked.

“It works!” Annika protested.

Friedrich snorted, and then laughed. “I suppose so.” He said. “On other news though…oh yeah, there was that one accident last week.”

“What happened?” Annika asked.

Friedrich’s voice took on a note of disgust. “A newbie, Willie Lyons, joined the company.” He said. “I have absolutely no idea how it happened, seeing as we’ve already figured out no one pushed him and nothing hit him, but he fell off a raised catwalk and got his ass clipped by a plasma cutter.”

“…how bad was it?”

“Docs said it’d heal fine and with no scarring,” Friedrich said. “But until it did, the guy had about less than half his ass.”

“So he lost his balance.” Annika deadpanned. “How is that even possible?”

“Not a clue,” Friedrich replied. “Though looking on the bright side, it could be worse. I mean he just loss most of his ass. He could easily have lost a leg or an arm, or got cut in half, maybe even lost his head. Not even a Klingon could survive that, much less a Human being.”

“Count your blessings, huh?” Annika remarked. “Though I’m guessing that means the company’s facing a safety inquiry.”

“We are.” Friedrich sourly replied. “The operations manager isn’t exactly happy about that, and Willie’s in for a lot of heat for the next few months. Unless someone else does something stupid, or another accident happens. Knock on wood, sweetheart.”

Annika laughed and did just that on her coffee table. “Done.” She said.

“Work aside though,” Friedrich began. “Did Wolfgang and Elsa tell you already?”

“That they’re entering the preliminaries for this year’s Zero Limit race?” Annika said. “They did. I wasn’t exactly happy about it, considering the thirty-three per cent fatality rate among entries, but they’re already adults. It’s their life, their choices. I mean…I’m not exactly one to talk about risking my life.”

“There’s a world of difference between what you do and what the twins do.” Friedrich said. “That, and you’re their mother. You have privileges, when it comes to your place in their lives.”

“Maybe…but like I said, they’re adults already.” Annika said with a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not unconcerned, but…”

“Yeah,” Friedrich admitted with a sigh. “If that’s what they want to do, if that’s what makes them happy…well, we have to let go. I mean, it’s not like they’re breaking the laws doing what they love, or hurting other people.”

Annika hummed, and then pulled up a smile. “Well,” she said. “At least we know they’re good at what they do. It’s not like it’s their first race, how many seasons has it been?”

“Six, by my last count.” Friedrich said. “Though only local races at that, here in the Terran Sector. They could have gone to the big leagues sooner too, if it weren’t for the Dominion War a few years ago.”

“And now they’re making up for lost time, and finally aiming high.” Annika said with a sigh. “Well, as their parents I suppose we have the duty of supporting them. I mean…sure, there’s a thirty-three per cent fatality rate, but that’s still a sixty-seven per cent survival rate. Between modern medicine and our own bodies’ ability to heal and recover, they’ve got better chances than others of getting through this alive. More than that, a spot in the top three, or at least to finish the race.”

“True enough,” Friedrich agreed. “Anyway…how about you though? I know you can’t say anything about what’s going down right now, but I’m sure there are some interesting things you can talk about.”

“Hmm…well, about that…”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I understand that between the cultural norms born of Earth history and your own background, you are left rather sensitive to the topic.” Worf began while sitting behind his desk in the Defiant’s ready room, Bashir standing at attention in front of him. “But you must also remember that you are a Starfleet officer! Your duty and responsibilities come before your personal affairs! As your service record thus far shows no blemish, I will allow the earlier episode to pass with but a verbal reprimand, and with no written record thereof. But I must have it clear, Doctor Bashir. There will be no repetition of your behavior from earlier. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, captain.” Bashir said.

“Good.” Worf said.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Bashir asked.

“…granted.”

“In your opinion,” Bashir began. “Is it really alright? What they did to themselves? Tampering with their DNA, the blueprint for the Human species…”

“My opinion is irrelevant.” Worf interrupted. “As I have said earlier to Captain von Kreutzer, the Prime Directive mandates that I respect the decisions they made to develop their culture, society, and civilization.”

“…I see.”

Worf sighed, and made sure to meet Bashir’s eyes for several moments. “I was under the impression that you had largely made peace with this aspect of your character.” He said. “That…no matter how much a betrayal your parents’ actions are to you, it’s still something you must live with. Something you would not allow your life to be dictated by, a challenge to overcome.”

Bashir’s face twisted in frustration while running a hand through his hair. “I…I’m not really sure myself.” He said. “I thought I had. Made peace with my…my being an Augment, that is. But…when I read and understood that everyone there – here – was like me…I don’t know. I just…I just couldn’t help it.”

Worf hummed in thought. “I will not pretend to understand how this must be like for you.” He finally said. “It would be an insult to us both to do so. Nevertheless, here and now, I expect you to fulfil your duties and responsibilities as a Starfleet officer. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good,” Worf said with a nod. “When we return to our universe, I could recommend you to a counsellor to help you in this matter, discreetly, of course. And…if you are willing.”

“…I’ll consider it.” Bashir said after a moment. “Thank you, captain.”

Worf nodded. “If there is nothing more,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

Bashir nodded, and then left, though leaving Jadzia to enter after him. “Things didn’t go so well?” she asked.

“Doctor Bashir’s actions are the only sore spot of note.” Worf said. “What was between us will remain so, unless Doctor Bashir wishes to speak of them to you.”

“Hmm…fair enough…” Jadzia conceded, agreeing with Worf’s respect for Bashir’s privacy, no matter what existed between them both. “But everything else went well?”

“They did.” Worf replied. “Admiral Garak is of the opinion that neither the Prime nor Temporal Prime Directives apply here, and is also sympathetic with our situation. That said, while he is supportive of extending assistance in our direction, he also made it clear that their Federation has obligations here as well, and which come first.”

“We can’t really blame him for that.” Jadzia admitted while sitting down in front of Worf’s desk. “Still, some help is better than no help at all.”

“True.” Worf agreed with a nod. “That said, it’s still not guaranteed. The admiral will attempt to push helping us on the basis that if we lose the war, the Dominion will be freely able to access this Federation’s space and timeline through the wormhole. Thus, it is in shared, common interest that they must help us.”

“The bureaucratic mentality is one of the few constants in the universe.” Jadzia mused. “Or should I say multiverse?”

“A rather unfortunate fact, it would seem.” Worf agreed. “For now, we will accompany retiring elements of the Seventh Fleet to a nearby starbase for resupply and repair. Not so much for us, of course, but they would extend their hospitality to us, while we await their government’s decision.”

“Makes sense,” Jadzia agreed. “Though it might also just be easier to keep an eye on us in a starbase than in open space.”

“True,” Worf conceded. “But there is no call for baseless paranoia either. They are simply being cautious. We would probably do the same in their situation.”

“Also true.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Well, we get to see more of Garak’s AU self here, and who is a cyborg of all things. Refuge in audacity, I dare to say. Then we get a breather, plus some exposition on Annika’s part.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek it belongs to ViacomCBS.

Two Worlds

Chapter 7​

The Orleans Class Stealth Frigate is the smallest ship classed as a 'true' warship by the Federation Navy, at only an estimated one hundred meters long. The ship was also lightly-armed, lacking torpedo tubes and featuring only a quartet of front-facing, burst phaser emitters, and another pair of burst phaser emitters facing to the rear.

Then again, while able to defend itself if need be, an Orleans Class was never meant to go into battle in the first place. There was a reason it was classed as a stealth frigate after all, and it wasn’t just because it was the only class of Federation vessel that came equipped with a cloaking device as standard.

“Well, there’s the wormhole, sir.” The Kuunor’s XO said from her station in front of the bridge.

“So it is.” Commander Eigril Deaver, Captain of the Kuunor, said with a nod. “Open a channel to the Thaikkuk.”

“Aye, sir.” The Kuunor’s communications officer said.

A moment later and the viewscreen changed perspective, no longer showing the computer-enhanced image of the wormhole leading to an alternate universe, but the bridge of the Kuunor’s sister ship, the Thaikkuk. “What’s your status, captain?” Eigril asked.

“All systems operational, we’re ready and waiting for the order, sir.” Lieutenant-Commander Keittes Nad, Captain of the Thaikkuk, replied.

“Good,” Eigril said with a nod before settling in his seat. He glanced once at his command interface, and narrowed his eyes before giving the order. “Standby to engage stealth systems. Signal Rear Admiral Rysan: the 25th Reconnaissance Squadron is standing by to engage.”

“Aye sir.” The chorus went up on both ships’ bridges, the younger captain on the Thaikkuk glancing at his command interface while waiting for the order to be given.

“Captain,” the communications officer spoke up. “Rear Admiral Rysan has given us the go ahead.”

“Signal our acknowledgements.” Eigril said before turning back to Keittes on the viewscreen. “Captain Keittes, the order is given: we’re to proceed through the wormhole, and entering the Timeline Primus, provide reconnaissance on Dominion deployments beyond, if need be providing advance warning of any sortie in our direction.”

“Yes, sir.” Keiites said with a salute, and cutting the channel after Eigril saluted back. The latter then drew himself up on his seat.

“Engage the cloaking device, polarize our armor, and scramble our tachyon emissions.” He ordered. “Helm, take us into the wormhole at half-impulse. Sensors, keep our scans on passive, broad-spectrum mode. Let’s not run into any surprises, but let’s not give ourselves away either.”

“Aye, sir.” The chorus went up, Eigril nodding as the ship smoothly proceeded towards the wormhole, no indication beyond notifications on the bridge’s various interfaces that the ship was now in stealth mode.

“Status of the Thaikkuk?” he asked after several moments.

“They’re following us approximately one thousand kilometers to port rear, sir.” The XO replied.

Eigril nodded, and settled into his seat. Even at half-impulse it took several minutes for them to reach the wormhole’s event horizon, with no physical indication of them crossing its threshold, apart from the viewscreen turning black. “Departure view.” Eigril ordered.

“Departure view, sir.” The reply came, even as the viewscreen showed a slowly but steadily shrinking portal though which starlight shone through, surrounded by utter darkness on all sides.

“Well, isn’t that a disturbing sight?” Eigril thought to himself, briefly sampling his bridge crew’s surface-level emotions. They were well-trained, and experienced too, enough so that it wouldn’t really affect them, but it was there. The same sense of…wrongness, and apprehension caused by the darkness of the wormhole’s interior. “And it’ll take us hours to get through this, even on full impulse. Well, we could go to warp, but at that speed we might just miss something while passing through. Duty calls.”

The aging Betazoid officer sighed and made his decision. “Bring up tactical view.” He ordered.

“Tactical view, sir.”

Eigril nodded in satisfaction, feeling some of his – and his bridge crew’s – apprehension disappear as the fading light on the screen was replaced by wireframe diagrams and constantly-updating numbers. “Better…” he thought. “…much better…”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Approaching event horizon.” The helmsman said. “Exiting wormhole in five…four…three…two…one…”

One moment, and there was only darkness in front of them. A rather curious phenomenon, and one apparently mirrored by the experiences of the Defiant’s crew based on their reports of their passage through the wormhole. That is, starlight could be observed passing into the wormhole through their point of entry, but not through their point of exit. Something to look into once this was over and done.

The next moment, and the stars filled the viewscreen in their countless billions. Eigril smiled at the sight, and feeling his bridge crew sharing his elation. Even focused on their duties, passing through the wormhole was not a particularly enjoyable experience.

And then alarms were sounding across the ship. “Reading multiple Dominion warships around us.” The sensor officer warned. “Looks like two Jem’Hadar Battlecruisers, and at least eighteen Jem’Hadar Attack Ships.”

“Have they detected us?” Eigril asked.

“…I’m not sure, sir.” The sensor officer said after a moment. “Their sensors appear to be on active mode, and I’m reading antiproton-based sensor sweeps from the battlecruisers, but none of the attack ships are moving to intercept.”

“And the battlecruisers themselves?” Eigril asked again.

“Their shields are up.” The sensor officer replied. “And their weapons do seem powered up, but they don’t seem to be aiming them in our direction either.”

The XO turned her seat to face Eigril. “Captain,” she began. “Given the postwar adaptations to our cloaking devices, it is possible the Dominion isn’t able to pick us up even with antiproton-based sensors. Or, assuming they hit the estimated twenty per cent chance that our cloaks get pierced with antiproton-based sensors, our polarized armor should scramble what of their scans is getting through the cloak.”

Eigril nodded slowly in thought. “Plausible…” he admitted. Then sitting back, he reached out with his telepathic senses. Were he female, this would be so much easier at his age…

…but then again, that did come with certain side-effects, so maybe he should count his blessings. Reaching out over a hundred thousand kilometers of empty space, he swept his perception over the crews of the Jem’Hadar Battlecruisers, holding back a shudder at the obtuse and rigid minds of the Jem’Hadar, and again at the cold and calculating malice characteristic of the Vorta.

“No, they don’t seem to have noticed us.” Eigril said with a nod. “Still…let’s not take any chances. Keep us to one-quarter impulse, and move us away from the wormhole. Sensors, coordinate with helm control, and match the Dominion’s patrol routes. Fly us through the gaps between them.”

“Aye, sir.”

“I’ll send the orders to Keittes myself.” Eigril said before taking a deep breath. Then he reached out, through a thousand kilometers of empty space, and brushed at his fellow Betazoid’s mind. There was surprise, then realization, before the younger captain opened his thoughts.

“Yes, sir?” Keittes asked.

“Slow to one-quarter impulse.” Eigril said. “Have your sensor officer coordinate with helm control, and match the Dominion’s patrol routes. Just fly through the gaps.”

“Why not just go to warp here and now?” Keittes asked.

“Even with tachyon scramblers,” Eigril said. “Let’s not take the risk of giving ourselves away just yet.”

“Point.”

“Once we’re a full light-second from the nearest Dominion ship,” Eigril continued. “We’ll set course for Bajor, maximum warp.”

“Understood.”

Eigril gave the mental impression of a nod, and then pulled his mind back. “Helm,” he ordered on his bridge. “Proceed until we’re a full light-second from the nearest Dominion ship. Then set course for Bajor, maximum warp.”

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman said, already adjusting course to slip past the Dominion ships. Eigril nodded, sitting back in his seat and tinkering with his command interface. Given the routes used by the Dominion to patrol the surrounding space, it would be another minute before they could jump to warp as per his orders. That was fine, they had time to spare.

That time passed uneventfully, neither the Jem’Hadar nor their Vorta overseers noticing the two cloaked ships slipping through their lines. Nor did they notice those same cloaked ships jumping to warp soon after.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AD 2378

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Bashir thought, as they approached the familiar, mushroom-shaped form of a Federation starbase. And not just any starbase either, but one which shared the same name and position in their own timeline: Xendi Starbase Nine.

“Station Control to USS Defiant,” a man’s voice echoed over the channel. “You are clear to enter the docking bay. Proceed to Dock 9208.”

“Acknowledged, Station Control.” Jadzia said at the helm. “Commencing docking procedures.”

Relying solely on maneuvering thrusters, Jadzia piloted the Defiant out of the queue of ships waiting to dock outside the starbase, and towards the open doors of the docking bay. The interior was, again, a familiar sight, Jadzia only needing to glance at her station every once in a while as she piloted the Defiant through the interior.

There were plenty of ships there, and not just the cruisers and frigates of the Federation Navy. There were also civilian vessels of all kinds, ranging from generic passenger and cargo transports, to science and trade ships, and Bashir could have sworn he saw what looked like an Orion pleasure barge moored at one of the docks. All in all, it was – again – a very familiar sight…

…and one which made their situation all the more surreal.

“Getting caught by the Terran Empire would probably be less surreal.” Bashir glumly thought.

Then the Defiant slowed, coasting into dock with minute bursts from her thrusters correcting her course as she went. Then the docking clamps latched into place, followed by the docking umbilical. “Docking procedure complete.” Jadzia said with an air of satisfaction.

“Well done, lieutenant-commander.” Worf said with a nod. “Open a channel to the whole ship.”

“Aye, sir.”

Worf nodded again before drawing himself up. “This is the captain to all hands.” He began. “Before any officers or crew can disembark, I would take this moment to remind you all of your duties and responsibilities as members of the Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets. Each and every last one of your words and actions will reflect on the greater body we are all a part of. And as your captain, I am supremely confident that you will all show our hosts only the excellence and merit that qualified your service aboard the finest ship in the fleet. That is all.”

Jadzia cut the channel, and then looked to Worf expectantly. She didn’t have to wait long, as Worf rose to his feet, and straightening his uniform, gestured at the bridge crew. “Shall we meet with our hosts?” he asked.

Without waiting for a response, Worf moved to leave the bridge, Jadzia falling into step behind him with Bashir next to her, the rest of the bridge crew following behind them. Making their way through the Defiant, then proceeded to the ship’s docking port, where the rest of the crew was already assembled, standing to attention in neat lines.

Worf nodded in satisfaction, before giving a gesture. O’Brien then pressed a button on the wall-mounted control panel, and causing the doors to slide open. Worf drew himself up, and accompanied by Jadzia and Bashir alone, stepped forward and through the doors, down the docking umbilical, before coming to a halt before two persons standing at the umbilical’s midpoint.

Worf stood to attention. “Permission to come aboard.” He said.

The Rigelian in formal-looking clothes smiled and nodded. “Permission granted, captain.” She said. “Welcome to Xendi Starbase Nine, I am Station Governor Zouca, and this is Commodore Tomohiko Fujikawa, the station inspector-general.”

“Captain.” the Human officer said with a curt nod.

“Commodore.” Worf said while returning the nod.

“As I recall, the station itinerary was provided to your crew even before your arrival at the station.” Zouca continued. “There should be no difficulty with their movements around the station…or entering restricted areas, for that matter.”

“There will be none.” Worf reassured the governor.

“Then if there is nothing more,” Zouca said, clapping her hands and giving a smile. “Once again, welcome to Xendi Starbase Nine.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I did say I’d buy something from the Ferengi,” Annika thought while wandering through one of Xendi Starbase Nine’s commercial areas. “But that was before I knew the Orions had recently set up shop here. And I trust the Orions more than I do the Ferengi.”

Shrugging to herself, the captain made her way to where the Orion caravan had set up their bazaar in a large, open space in the middle of the area. Towering, hugely-muscled Orion males stood guard around the bazaar, or patrolled the paths running across while on the lookout for any troublemakers. They didn’t carry any firearms, of course, but carried stout truncheons with them just in case.

More Orions of various genders stood or sat in the bazaar’s various shops, either attending to their customers, loudly peddling their wares, or handling some other tasks. Patrons went to and fro, members of at least dozens of species from across the Federation and beyond either just sightseeing or looking for something worth spending credits on.

A particularly large crowd was gathered around a stage set up in one part of the bazaar, where a troupe of Orion dancers were putting on a show. Mostly men – no surprise there – in the audience, but also including quite a few women too. Even Annika found her eyes drawn towards the dancers, an eyebrow rising as they easily pulled off acrobatics even Humans would find difficult just trying.

“Impressive agility there.” Annika mused before shaking her head and walking off.

There were various bars where customers partook of distilled spirits and alcoholic beverages from hundreds of worlds across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. There was even a racetrack, where rodents were made to race to the loud cheers (and wails) of the crowd, along with other, gambling opportunities.

Annika knew better than to waste time and money there, but she kept her eyes peeled as she slipped past shops, her head turning from one side to another as she took in the wares available. A number of stores were selling shoes made from various kinds of leather, whether natural or synthetic available, with one store even boasting of being able to measure and prepare custom-fitted footwear within the hour.

Other stores sold clothes made from various luxury materials like Vulcan silk, Andorian furs, and Betazoid cotton, alongside more utilitarian wear in common materials. Clothes could be bought or rented (the latter for a limited time only, of course), even tailored within the day for a night of festivity. All for a fair and reasonable price, of course.

Despite having come to the bazaar to look for something to send home to her husband as a shared gift between them for their friend’s wedding, Annika soon found herself interested in and buying more than what she started out to get. “Well,” Annika thought as she purchased a particularly risqué set of lingerie by a Betazoid designer for when she returned to Tau Ceti. “There is the old saying that the best part of looking for something isn’t finding what you were looking for, but finding something you weren’t looking for.”

Fighting the urge to grin and snicker at the thought of her husband potentially getting a nosebleed from seeing her in what she’d bought – those Betazoids certainly knew how to enjoy life – Annika passed the requisite amount of latinum to the Orion vendor, who received them with a smile and a series of polite bows. Annika bowed back, and thanking the man in his own language walked off.

A few moments later, and she found her eyes drawn into another store, peddling artworks of various kinds and sources. There were paintings and portraits, sculptures, statues, and figurines, even vases and porcelain of various kinds. It was an obelisk that caught Annika’s eye though, inscribed with hieroglyphs that she couldn’t recognize, and just the right size to be placed on one of her cabin’s shelves.

“Well,” she thought before stepping into the shop. “What the heck?”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

O’Brien let out a sigh of satisfaction after drinking down a shot of whiskey, and not the replicated stuff either. It was the real deal, imported all the way from Earth, and worth quite the sum in latinum.

It was worth it down to the last drop.

A light commotion outside the window drew his attention, and he raised an eyebrow as a trio of Human girls in their late teens or early 20s ran past outside the bar, giggling and laughing and chattering to themselves, while throwing interested eyes in Bashir’s direction. “Well, well, well…” O’Brien thought to himself, even as Bashir entered the bar and joined O’Brien at the counter a few moments later.

“You seem to have gotten an impromptu fan club.” He observed while gesturing for the bartender to get him another glass.

“What?” Bashir asked as the bartender slid a shot glass filled with ice down the countertop in their direction.

“Those girls out there.” O’Brien said while pouring Bashir whiskey on the rocks. “They seem to be quite interested in you.”

Bashir groaned. “Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?” he asked before taking a drink. “Like…I don’t know, studying or something else more productive?”

“Maybe,” O’Brien said with a shrug. “Or they’re just having fun like they ought to at their age.”

“When I was at their age I was working my way through medical school.” Bashir countered. “Building what would be my life’s work, so to speak.”

“So was I.” O’Brien admitted. “But I also made the time to have a life.”

“And what does that mean?” Bashir asked sharply.

“I’m just saying,” O’Brien said with a drink of whiskey. “Everyone has their own dreams, their own hopes for the future, to work for. And everyone has their own way of getting there, their own choices to make. My choices…your choices…their choices…all different between us…”

“…and if we – they – made the wrong choices…” Bashir mused.

“…then there will be consequences.” O’Brien agreed. “But that’s for them to face: the consequences of their choices and actions. And that’s also why we can’t – and shouldn’t – dictate how other people make their choices in life for them.”

“I suppose so.” Bashir grudgingly admitted while taking a drink of whiskey. “Good stuff.”

“Of course it is.” O’Brien said, lifting the bottle and giving it a whiff, handed it over to Bashir to do the same. “Smell that? Synthehol or the replicated stuff could never smell like that. It’s unique to the Old Bushmill Distillery in County Antrim, then aged for twelve years in oak casks.”

Putting the bottle down, O’Brien took his glass and drank from it, swirling the rich liquid in his mouth and savoring all the flavors it left on his tongue. “Mm~” he hummed in satisfaction. “Can you taste it? That rich mix of flavor?”

Bashir took a drink from his own glass, and savoring the whiskey for a few moments, swallowed and then shrugged. “…sherry…dark chocolate…” he mused. “…and a mix of spices I can’t quite tell on my own. Give me a sample and an hour or two with a mass spectrometer, and I should be able to figure it out.”

O’Brien chuckled and shook his head. “Doubtful,” he said. “You could probably approximate what spices taste like it, and program a replicator to make something that tastes like 12-year single malt, maybe even pass for it to someone who’s never tasted the real deal. But to someone who has…well, good luck.”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” Bashir said with a grin, and holding up his glass shared a toast with O’Brien before taking a drink. “Still…to get genuine Earth liquor all the way out here, that bottle didn’t come cheap.”

“It didn’t.” O’Brien agreed while refilling his and Bashir’s glasses. “And it shouldn’t. It cost me fifty bars of gold-pressed latinum. And another hundred just to get two bottles to bring back with us.”

“…let me get this straight,” Bashir incredulously asked. “You spent a hundred and fifty bars of gold-pressed latinum on drinking alcohol?”

O’Brien shrugged. “Well,” he said. “You never know when I’ll next get the chance to get the good stuff all the way from Earth. This timeline’s not so bad.”

Smiling with an air of smugness about him, O’Brien toasted himself through his reflection on the mirror behind the bar, and emptied his glass all at once.

Naturally, he refilled it immediately.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You know,” Jadzia began while she and Worf sat at a table in a restaurant, their table sitting next to a pane of reinforced transparent aluminum that looked out into space. “I’ve been wondering lately…”

“About what?” Worf asked.

“Well, we’re in an alternate universe, aren’t we?” Jadzia asked. “I mean…yeah, things are obviously very different here, but considering we’re not Human and the differences stem from a point of divergence on Earth, we might actually have alternate selves in this timeline.”

“You wonder what our – possible – alternate selves are like in this universe?” Worf asked back.

“Don’t you?” Jadzia asked back in her turn.

Worf thought it over for a moment. “I admit that there is a part of myself that is curious about the notion.” He said. “But perhaps it is best if we left it alone. Whether for good or ill, we and our possible alternate selves have our own lives and identities. Learning about each other, one way or another, could…no, would only burden us all down with ‘what might have been’. Granted, one could say the same about learning of this alternate universe, but the circumstances are different.”

Jadzia nodded in understanding. “I see your point.” She admitted. “Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have even tried to know about alternate universes like this one. But between ignorance and necessity…”

“Indeed.” Worf agreed with a nod of his own.

“Still,” Jadzia said. “While we shouldn’t try and know too much about this universe, it wouldn’t do to ignore it completely. Who knows? We might learn a few valuable lessons from the people here. And conversely, teach them a few things from our perspective too.”

“The notion has its merits.” Worf admitted. “Though we must remain careful, and take care to know when and where to draw the line. Taking too much could push us too fast and too far forward, with potentially-undesirable consequences.”

“Hmm…point…especially considering…you know…”

Jadzia trailed off meaningfully, while Worf nodded slowly in thoughtful agreement. “Hmm…yes…” he mused. “…though like I told the crew earlier, I fully expect them to act as is only proper for members of Starfleet.”

“Here’s to your expectations not getting disappointed then.” Jadzia said.

Worf nodded, the conversation stilling as a waiter arrived to serve their food.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Captain!”

Annika smiled as she approached a quartet of female officers from the Seoul, two Orions and Humans each, the former including Ensign Zhessesi. “At ease, ladies.” She said with a nod. “We’re all off-duty here, and none of you are in uniform anyway.”

“But…” one of the junior officers began, and Annika’s smile grew wider.

“Fair enough,” she admitted. “Coming to attention and saluting when you run across a superior officer is practically a reflex for anyone who’s gone through basic training. Carry on, ladies.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The younger women chorused before heading off, chattering among themselves. Annika looked after them for a moment, and then headed off on her way as well.

“I remember when I was at that age.” She silently mused to herself. “I was so young back then…we all were…”

Annika sighed as she remembered the members of her class from the officer’s academy, then the officers and crew she’d served with over the decades, and how many of them were still alive here and now.

And she remembered those who died, their faces and names flashing through her head. There were those who claimed that the Federation was an idyllic place, that the cosmos was a place of wonders and enlightenment, and that a dedicated military was an archaic and outdated thing, one which shouldn’t have a place in a civilized society like the Federation.

Fools…

…the only reason they could talk like that in the first place was because of the sacrifices of her comrades and those that came before them.

Without those who stood watch on the Federation’s borders and the spaces between the stars, the Federation would have fallen long since. The Romulans…the Bajorans…the Breen…the Borg…the Dominion…

…the cosmos was a place of wonders and enlightenment…

…but it was also a place of danger and peril.

Annika thought back to the four young women she’d passed by earlier, and then the recent battle with the Dominion from the Defiant’s universe. She thought of all those who’d died in that battle, and wondered how many more would die before this crisis was past.

Will those four women be among them?

Will Friedrich and our children join the families mourning their loved ones dead in space?
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Considering Deanna was able to use her telepathy on a tactical scale in Nemesis, and she’s only half-Betazoid and explicitly not as accomplished a telepath as full Betazoids are, there’s no reason that full Betazoids couldn’t do what they did in the first part of this chapter. Going deeper is undoubtedly more difficult and dangerous, but surface sweeps, ‘sampling’ emotions and random thoughts, should be more than possible.