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  The sound of the internal communications system caught her attention, followed by the voice of Subcommander Ineti over the speakers.

  “Commander Sarith, please respond.”

  Crossing to a wall-mounted communications panel, Sarith pressed the unit’s activation switch. “What is it, Ineti?”

  Her second-in-command replied, “Commander, it appears our communications are being jammed by the Starfleet vessels. Our attempt to transmit a message to a support base or other vessel that might provide assistance is being blocked.”

  It was not an unexpected development, Sarith conceded, though she at least thought they might have a little time before the Starfleet ships detected the attempt at covert communication. The message, encrypted and sent on a low-power frequency, sacrificing response time for security, should have escaped the notice of the Starfleet sensors. She had obviously underestimated her adversaries and their ability to conduct covert reconnaissance. For all their vaunted proclamations about being forthright and honorable, humans were just as clever and devious as the best Romulan spies.

  “Are we able to communicate with the N’minecci or the Jarax?” she asked. “Or our shuttle on the surface?”

  Ineti replied, “The jamming does not seem to be affecting short-range communications, Commander, however there is still interference from the energy surges on the planet that prevent our making contact with the scouting party.” A series of alert tones could be heard in the background, and the subcommander excused himself for a moment before saying, “We are being hailed by one of the Starfleet ships, Commander.”

  “Of course we are.” If there was one thing Sarith knew about humans, it was that they preferred to spend an inordinate amount of time talking. About anything. She could not decide whether it was an inherent trait of their species, or a regrettable habit they had acquired as a consequence of their alliance with the Vulcans, who always seemed to pride themselves on their mastery of the spoken word and their ability to employ it until another speaker or a simple lack of oxygen interrupted them.

  “Ignore the hail,” she said. Glancing to Jacius, who stood nearby in patient silence, she considered other points of concern. “What are we able to ascertain about their repair efforts?”

  “Both ships have compromised defenses. Their deflector shields only seem operable at reduced effectiveness. We are unable to get an accurate report on their weapons, as those systems are not active.”

  Anticipating her trusted advisor’s reaction, Sarith chose her next words with care. “Ineti, we may have an unparalleled opportunity within our grasp. What if we were to seize the initiative?” When the subcommander said nothing for several moments, she could sense him considering her suggestion from every conceivable angle, weighing the advantages and liabilities of such a brazen action.

  “What you suggest, Commander, is dangerous. However, the rewards for undertaking such risk would be vast. If these are advanced Starfleet ships, then the information we obtain about them will be of enormous value to the praetor. Even if they are from another dimension, our sensor scans alone will provide benefit to our research and development efforts.”

  Sarith looked to Jacius. “Our primary weapon—what is its status?”

  “Fully operational, Commander.” The weathered engineer held up a hand. “However, our shields are not at full strength.”

  “We have to drop them in order to fire anyway,” said Ineti over the open channel.

  Jacius shrugged. “True, but I am considering the moments after we lose the element of surprise, and our enemy elects to return fire.”

  “As long as the larger goal is achieved,” said Sarith, “or at least furthered, then it would be worth it. All we need to do is draw their attention long enough to accomplish our true objective, then we can withdraw.” She smiled. “Remember, while Starfleet captains are capable of slaying an opponent in the heat of battle, they usually do not choose to fire upon a disabled enemy or one that withdraws from conflict. We can use that to our advantage.”

  It was a gamble, Sarith knew, just as she knew that any prospect of capturing an advantage over the Starfleet ships was fading with every moment their repair efforts continued unmolested. If she was going to strike, she would need to do it soon.

  No, she decided.

  The time is now.

  Ushalon

  “It’s good to hear your voice, Commander.”

  T’Ryssa Chen made no effort to conceal her sigh of relief as she heard Captain Picard’s voice emanating from Worf’s combadge. Though static still laced the transmission, any contact at all was welcome.

  “Thank you, sir,” replied the first officer. “The situation down here has been . . . most interesting.”

  “I can imagine, and it’s probably going to get even more so before this is all over.”

  All six of the away team members listened as Picard recounted the events that had brought them to this point and the current situation in space beyond the planet. Worf followed that report with one of his own, informing the captain of the team’s status and their skirmish with Romulan infiltrators. The most intriguing part of Picard’s update was the presence of an earlier ­Enterprise-D, which, like the Romulans, had been pulled from its own plane of existence.

  “Another dimension and another time,” said Chen. “We just can’t do anything halfway, can we?”

  Picard replied, “Despite the disparity in technology, the Romulans do have a minor advantage. It seems their shipboard systems were not as susceptible to the quantum interference, and their vessels withstood the transition in far better shape than we did. We are continuing our repair efforts.”

  “What about our Romulan friends down here?” asked Rennan Konya. “We’re keeping an eye on them, Captain. Doctor Tropp has even treated the injuries one of them sustained in their shuttle’s crash.”

  Picard asked, “What is their condition, Doctor?”

  “Aside from the effects of their own weapons and unarmed combat with our people, they are all unharmed, Captain. One Romulan suffered a cracked rib in the shuttle crash, but I was able to treat it, and he is fully recovered.”

  “Excellent. Thank you for your efforts.”

  Konya asked, “What if their ship sends more people to look for them?”

  “I have attempted to contact the Romulan ship and advise them that their people are unharmed,” replied the captain. “So far, we’ve received no acknowledgment of our hails. For now, keep them secure. We’re attempting to reconfigure the transporters in order to retrieve you, but I’m afraid that priority is secondary to our other repairs.”

  Worf said, “Understood, Captain.”

  “I have Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki here, Number One. What have you learned about the people on the surface and their role in what’s happening to this planet?”

  Relying on Taurik to provide some of the technical details for La Forge and Elfiki’s benefit, Worf provided information on the Sidrac scientists and their experiments, including the accident that had sent Ushalon on its fantastic journey.

  “The Sidrac are peaceful, Captain,” added Chen at Worf’s prompting. “There’s no malice here, sir. They’re simply caught up in noble intentions gone wrong.”

  “But the Romulans obviously think there’s something here worth exploiting,” said Kirsten Cruzen.

  Taurik said, “Like us, the Romulans ventured down here without fully understanding the situation, but I am uncertain as to what they hoped to accomplish by sending an armed party, and their later attack on the habitat. As long as the field generator remains in quantum flux, it is inaccessible. If another attack succeeds in damaging or destroying the field generator, the results could be disastrous for the planet and eliminate any chance of the Romulans or the Enterprise-D returning to their own dimensions.”

  “I’ve communicated that to the Romulans, as well, Commander,” re
plied Picard. “No doubt they hope to harness the quantum-field generator for some martial purpose. Hopefully they’ll choose not to commit any other rash acts while we look for a solution. The engineering and science teams from both Enterprises are working on that now.”

  What must that be like? Chen wondered. It had to be odd enough for the captain and other veteran members of the Enterprise crew to be looking at a ship from their own past, but what about the differences? She had not known Data in his earlier incarnation, though she had heard stories about him from Worf and La Forge and even Picard himself. Lieutenant Natasha Yar was someone Worf had mentioned on one or two occasions, always with great respect as someone who influenced him during the short period in which they had served together. She could not help dwelling on the thought that the Enterprise-D was commanded by that dimension’s version of William Riker. It begged the question as to what had become of Picard in that reality. Had he been promoted to the admiralty, or had fate been less kind to him?

  I don’t even want to think about that.

  “We are also working with Nelidar and her people to devise a solution,” said Taurik. “So far, our best option would appear to be finding some way to interrupt the field generator’s power source. This is, of course, a rather hazardous proposition, given the numerous uncertainties surrounding the current condition of the generator and the power plant. All attempts to deactivate the fusion reactor have failed, owing to its being in a constant state of dimensional flux.”

  “I still don’t even get how that’s possible,” said Chen. “If the generator isn’t really here, then how is the planet still tied to it? If we’re in a state of dimensional phase that allows the complex to draw power from the reactor, then how is the Enterprise able to contact us?”

  The Vulcan engineer replied, “It appears that the quantum field has created a zone around the generator and the complex that is acting as a portal, allowing for this connection to be maintained.”

  “Like someone sticking their foot in a door,” said Konya. “And the planet is the foot?”

  “Your comparison is somewhat idiomatic,” replied Taurik, “but not inaccurate.”

  Konya nodded. “Idiomatic, but not inaccurate. I’m putting that on my résumé.”

  Over the open communicator frequency, Lieutenant Elfiki said, “So, to torture this metaphor some more, if the door is stuck open but not far enough for us to walk through, we should be able to find a way to kick it in, right?”

  “If I understand you correctly,” said Taurik, “I think we would wish to exercise more restraint. After all, we eventually will need to close the door, once and for all, and preferably after everyone including the Sidrac is returned to their proper dimension.”

  “Since we’re all about doors right now,” said Commander La Forge, “let’s not forget that it’s also a revolving one, at least to an extent. Our scans of the field generator show that the quantum energy output has stayed at an elevated level after the last transition. So far as we can tell, that level is higher than it should be.”

  Taurik replied, “That’s correct, sir. Nelidar informs us that this is an unusual occurrence. Their own diagnostic tools have been unable to present an explanation.”

  “We’re guessing it’s a result of the Romulans firing on the complex,” added Chen.

  La Forge said, “As good a reason as any, for right now.”

  Soft yet rapid footsteps caught everyone’s attention, and Chen turned to see Nelidar, still in her bare feet, running from the observation room toward them. Her expression communicated obvious concern as she motioned to the away team.

  “Commander Worf,” she said. “We believe another transition is imminent.”

  Over the channel, Picard prompted, “Number One?”

  “It may be another dimensional shift, Captain,” replied the Klingon.

  “There was no alarm,” said Doctor Tropp.

  “We’re picking up a new set of quantum energy readings,” reported Elfiki. “Yeah, looks like it’s about to happen again.”

  “Mister Worf,” said Picard, “we’re still unable to retrieve you.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  The team followed Nelidar into the observation room, which Chen saw was once again awash in activity. Having observed the Sidrac engineers at work before, she thought she was now able to discern subtle changes in their emotional responses as they confronted the situation evolving before them. Livak in particular was showing signs of uncertainty and even stress.

  “Something is different,” reported the Sidrac engineer. “The quantum energy readings are inconsistent with the previous shifts.”

  Moving to join him at his workstation, Nelidar asked, “In what way?”

  As though remembering that he also was speaking for the benefit of the away team, Livak looked up from his instruments and addressed his reply to everyone. “There’s an element of instability I have not seen before. The only sensible explanation is that the field generator did sustain some kind of damage from the spaceship’s weapons.”

  “Interesting,” said Taurik, and when Chen looked to the Vulcan it was to see him examining his tricorder. His fingers played over the device’s compact control pad for a moment before his right eyebrow rose, and Chen was certain she even saw him frown.

  “What is it?” asked Worf.

  Taurik replied, “I have just made an adjustment to the scan field on the Spinrad’s sensor array. The instability to which Livak refers was something our own equipment was initially unable to detect. Now, however, I am able to study the readings. Livak is correct, there is a minor instability in the quantum field.”

  “It was not there before,” said Livak. “It is unlike anything we recorded during any of our initial experiments or the previous transitions.”

  Konya, stepping up to stand beside Chen, said, “I don’t understand. Are we shifting, or not?”

  Shaking his head, Taurik replied, “I do not know.”

  “Neither do we,” said Nelidar. “According to these readings, we should be on a buildup to another transition. I am at a loss to explain it.”

  Still sitting at his console, Livak reported, “The instability is still rather minor, but it has increased since the last transition was completed. I am concerned that it will continue to grow.”

  “You’re not the only one,” said Chen.

  Cruzen asked, “I suppose it’s too much to hope that we’re staying put?”

  “That,” said Taurik, “or the next transition, whenever it occurs, could be quite hazardous for all of us.”

  Chen sighed. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”

  20

  U.S.S. Enterprise-E

  Despite the circumstances that had brought them all together and the situation they now faced, as he stood among the group he had assembled, Picard could not help a wry grin.

  “I think we all can agree that this will go down as one of the most bizarre briefings ever recorded in the annals of Starfleet.”

  His comment elicited the expected round of smiles and a few laughs.

  Standing in the middle of holodeck one, surrounded by the room’s unremarkable pattern of yellow grid lines, he looked around at the faces of the assembled group. Arrayed around him were Geordi La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki. Joining them via their ship’s own holodeck and communications system were Will Riker along with Data, Wesley Crusher, and the Enterprise-D’s Geordi La Forge.

  “Before we start,” said Riker’s holographic representation, “may I ask a few questions? What happened to all the color in the uniforms, and since when do you all like it so dark and moody? What happened to the lights?”

  Smiling, Picard elected not to answer the obvious icebreaker. It was awkward enough, he knew, for everyone to be looking at windows into their own past or future, but he was particularly aware of his chief engineer’s reaction to this m
eeting, as he was the only one in the room faced with looking at . . . himself.

  “I was a pretty good-looking guy back then,” said La Forge. “Wasn’t I?”

  Standing next to him, the chief engineer’s younger self replied, “Nice to see I only get better with age.” He tapped his VISOR. “I like the implants. I’ll have to look into those.”

  “They weren’t developed until about fifteen years ago,” said La Forge. “Well, fifteen years ago here, that is.” He looked to Picard. “No way to know when you all will get around to them.”

  “I think our engineers have highlighted one of our biggest concerns about the current situation,” said Riker. “Even though we’re from different dimensions, the possibility for a form of temporal contamination still exists. We need to tread carefully here.”

  Picard nodded. “Agreed.” It was for this reason that he had decided to limit Captain Riker and his crew’s exposure to this Enterprise. He knew that Riker’s people were salivating at the opportunity to walk the corridors of this vessel, which in their reality was little more than a collection of technical schematics even as the keel for the first starship of the Sovereign class was just being laid. Everyone participating in this meeting knew that they would have to work together in order to solve their current dilemma. Still, it seemed prudent to minimize as much as possible the potential for interfering with however history might unfold in the dimension from which the Enterprise-D had come.

  “Anything new from our Romulan friends?” asked Riker.

  “No. So far, all our attempts to communicate have gone unanswered, though we know they’re receiving our hails.” The silence was bothersome, particularly given the status of both Enterprises and their defenses, but so far the Romulan warship and its two escort vessels seemed content to keep to themselves. Picard was familiar with the Romulan penchant for shunning contact with other species in the best of situations, so on the surface the behavior of these ships and their commanders did not seem odd. On the other hand, their attempts to send a landing party to the planet’s surface and their attack on the Sidrac field generator were definite causes for worry. What else might they decide to do?