by Dayton Ward
Keeping watch on Una and her companions was—in and of itself—a simple endeavor, though doing so without attracting other undue attention had proven much more difficult. Under the guise of traveling to investigate possible sites for testing Woryan’s transfer portal, Anadac now led a half-dozen additional antigravity sleds, each one now fitted per the supreme leader’s wishes for battle against the Usildar or any other perceived enemy. No member of the contingent knew of Anadac’s ulterior motives, which made hir attempts at clandestine reconnaissance all the more problematic.
Behind hir, Anadac heard the signature whine of an accelerating sled. A moment later, Cisdor, the leader of the research team’s security contingent, pulled up alongside hir.
“We have traveled a great distance, Anadac,” said Cisdor. “How much farther?”
Anadac replied, “I am uncertain.” It was a lie, and one s/he offered without reservation. “The scan readings are fluctuating, making it difficult to pinpoint the precise location.”
“Will we reach the site before the suns set?” asked the security leader. “I would prefer not to set up our base camp in darkness.”
“I am unable to provide an exact estimate. I will know more once we reach the salt lands.” Anadac looked again at the imaging display, and noted that Una and her companions seemed content to remain in their own encampment as nightfall approached. That was helpful, s/he decided. It would make monitoring them easier.
A shrill tone sounded from the control panel of Cisdor’s sled, and Anadac recognized it as a communications alert. The security leader activated his own imaging display, and s/he and Anadac were greeted by the visage of none other than Woryan hirself.
“Cisdor!” There could be no mistaking the supreme leader’s foul mood. “There has been an attack on one of our patrol units in your sector. It appears they were ambushed by Usildar refugees. You are to suspend all assistance to Anadac’s search efforts and redirect all of your assets to this emergency. I want the perpetrators found and punished at once!”
Feeling a wave of dread beginning to wash over hir, Anadac said, “Woryan, are you certain of the responsible party? Perhaps it was not the Usildar, but instead some other—”
“It was the Usildar refugees,” snapped Woryan. “And they were aided by the other outsiders. Cisdor, the coordinates of the patrol’s last reported location are being transmitted to you now. See to this personally. I want them dealt with.”
Cisdor replied, “Understood. We will move to intercept them at once.”
Woryan did not even bother with the courtesy of a reply before hir image disappeared from the display. Even before the connection was severed, Cisdor was adjusting the communications frequency on hir control panel.
“Cisdor, to all units. Charge all weapons, and stand by for dispersal instructions.” S/he spent the next moments outlining Woryan’s orders and other pertinent information relating to the coming military action.
“No,” said Anadac when the security leader paused. “Cisdor, please. Woryan’s orders may be in error. Please do not do this.”
Shifting hir bulk to regard Anadac, Cisdor replied, “Disobey a direct order from our supreme leader? Do you even understand the risk you take simply by suggesting such a thing?”
Anadac realized hir plea was not a defensible position, particularly with respect to Una and the other humans. How was s/he supposed to protect them—at least long enough for hir to speak with them and learn from them—while preventing a military unit from carrying out the commands given to them?
Attempting another tactic, s/he said, “We cannot lose sight of our mission. We are so close to conducting a successful test of the portal. Woryan has made that his top priority. Our top priority. We both know that Woryan’s passion can divert hir thinking. It is important for those s/he trusts to protect hir interests.”
“Zened was correct to warn me about you,” replied Cisdor. “S/he assigned me to watch over you because you think you know better than Woryan.”
“That is preposterous.” Despite hirself, Anadac all but shouted the response. “Like you, I am dedicated to the safety and preservation of all our people. I am trying to help Woryan and all of us.”
Cisdor’s attention already seemed consumed by the coming task. “This is a discussion for another time. Perhaps it would be best if you and your research team waited behind while I lead my units to carry out Woryan’s orders.” S/he seemed to tower even higher in hir sled. “We will destroy those savages and anything else that dares stand against us.”
* * *
The sounds of mechanized vehicles, energy weapons, and cries of terror and pain brought Una out of her makeshift shelter, wielding the spear she had fashioned with her own hands. She had only just finished stripping a length of tree branch and sharpening its tip using a rock she had found, and the weapon felt both alien and yet oddly comforting in her hands.
“What is it?” she shouted as she saw Ensign Cheryl Stevens running through the middle of the camp, warning everyone to get out of their shelters.
Stevens pointed back the way she had come. “The slugs!” she shouted, using the term she and the other Enterprise crew members had employed to describe the Jatohr. “They found us. They’re shooting everything in sight!”
To her left, Una saw Sarek and Joanna emerge from their own low-slung shelters made from tree branches and brush, both carrying spears like hers. Beyond them and armed as they were, Tim Shimizu was crossing the camp toward her.
“Martinez isn’t going anywhere,” he said by way of greeting. “He’s in our shelter.”
Worried that the commander might be at the mercy of Jatohr soldiers should they make it this far, Una forced herself to set aside her concerns and concentrate on the matter at hand. “We’ll fall back and get him if they get too close.” She gestured to Shimizu. “You’re with me. Stevens, where’s Gorkon?”
The ensign waved toward the forest from which she had come. “He ran to join the Usildar fighters.”
“Of course he did.”
Stevens had turned and was running back to the forest. “Le May’s up there too. We have to help them!” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and ran back for the forest.
Looking to Joanna, Una said, “You stick with us.”
Sarek said, “I am prepared to fight as well.”
“I’d rather you watch our backs, just in case any of them slip past the Usildar.” She nodded toward the shelter shared by Shimizu and Martinez. “And keep an eye on Raul.”
“Very well,” replied the Vulcan. “Be careful, Captain.”
Una nodded. “You too.” To Shimizu, Stevens, and Joanna, she said, “Let’s go.”
Following the sounds filtering through the forest and catching the odd flash of light between the trees, it took the small group little time to make their way to the scene of the skirmish, but the evidence of battle was evident even as they approached. They reached a small clearing and Una beheld the sight of a Usildar fighter facing off against a Jatohr battle sled. A bright green glow projected from the vehicle’s prow bathed the barely clad fighter, and the Usildar writhed and screamed as he fought against the attack. Lifted from the ground, his body was twisted and then flung through the air to strike the wide trunk of a nearby tree. The fighter’s body fell limp to the ground and lay still.
All around the clearing and even in the surrounding trees, Usildar hurtled spears and rocks that clattered uselessly against Jatohr armor. Those who dared to advance and challenge their attackers to close combat stood no chance against the superior Jatohr weapons or defenses. Una spotted Stevens along with Ensign Terra Le May, one of the members of her original security detail all those years ago. Both were fighting alongside a handful of Usildar, their human forms contrasting with the smaller, gangly beings, but doing little good against their adversaries.
“Look out!” shouted Le May, just before Una wa
tched Stevens and several fighters near her become the next victims of an energy beam from a Jatohr battle sled, which picked them up and flung them into the forest. Stevens landed heavily on the ground, but Una was relieved when the ensign rolled onto her side and began pushing herself to her feet.
“Captain!” Joanna yelled. “We have to—”
“Stand fast,” Una said, holding out her free hand. She looked to Shimizu. “We can’t take them on like this.”
“If you’ve got any ideas,” replied the ensign, “I’m listening.”
Before she could respond, her attention was drawn to the rear of a small formation of three Jatohr battle sleds as a dark figure emerged from the forest. It was Gorkon, sprinting across the short stretch of open ground and leading a group of Usildar. They approached the closest sled, and Gorkon hoisted one of the fighters up and over the sled’s parapet, giving the Usildar an unobstructed attack as he thrust his spear into the Jatohr pilot’s neck. The bulky soldier jerked away from the sled’s console as the Usildar stabbed it again, and the sled itself pivoted on its axis until its forward weapons faced his companions.
“No!”
Una’s cry went unheard as the energy beam spat forth from the sled, enveloping both Gorkon and his Usildar comrades. As the sled continued to turn, the group was pulled along by the beam until they were flung across the small glade to land near the trees at the clearing’s edge. Scanning the area, Una saw that the skirmish was turning into a rout, with more than a dozen Jatohr sleds moving at will through the forest and shooting at anything in their path. Those Usildar who had not already fallen to their enemy were beginning to retreat, seeking whatever pitiful cover the forest might provide.
Do something!
Her anger at the brutality of the lopsided battle growing with each passing moment, Una tossed aside her useless spear and dropped to her knees. An insane, impulsive thought seized her. If this bizarre place allowed her to make objects appear and disappear, even permitting her to create functional items from nothing, then how far did that ability extend? What were the limits of this inexplicable power she now wielded?
Let’s find out.
Digging her hands into the dirt before her, Una closed her eyes and cleared her mind, focusing on a single thought. Within seconds she felt a tingling in her fingers as something began to take on shape and mass within her grip. She opened her eyes and raised her hands to see that she now cradled a trio of Starfleet type-2 phasers.
“Where the hell did those come from?” Shimizu asked, his features a mask of disbelief.
“I’ll explain later.” She handed both of her companions a weapon. “Time to start dishing out a little of what we’ve been taking.”
Still seething at the unchecked cruelty of the Jatohr’s attack, Una stepped into the clearing and took aim at the sled nearest to Gorkon and fired. The weapon howled as its blue-white beam streaked across the clearing to envelop the sled and its pilot, and both disappeared in a pulse of energy.
“Damn,” she spat, more to herself than anyone else. She had not intended to kill, but instead to disable. Selecting another target, Una forced herself to rein in her anger as she aimed at a second battle sled and fired. This time the results were far less harsh as a section of the sled exploded, destroying its power supply and sending it crashing to the ground. Satisfied with that result, she repeated her attack on a third sled, scrapping that vehicle and sending its pilot lumbering for cover.
For the first time, Una realized Joanna and Shimizu had not joined in her defense. “What’s wrong?”
Joanna held up her phaser. “It doesn’t work.”
“Mine’s dead, too,” added Shimizu. “Every setting.”
Realizing what was wrong, Una grabbed the phaser from Joanna’s hand, aimed it at a retreating Jatohr soldier, and fired. She was rewarded with the sight of the phaser’s beam striking the Jatohr and sending hir rolling onto the ground.
“I know this sounds crazy,” she said as she handed the weapon back to Joanna, “but just trust it. Focus on the phaser hitting its target. You’ll get the hang of it, if you let it. I . . .” She shook her head. “Just trust me.”
Not waiting for her comrades to reply, Una set off across the clearing to where she saw Gorkon lying on the ground among a group of fallen Usildar. She flinched at the sound of phaser fire and glanced over her shoulder to see Shimizu and Joanna now providing cover for her.
I’ll be damned.
Reaching Gorkon, she knelt beside him and saw that the Klingon was unconscious. She placed a hand on his shoulder, tried to rouse him, and a moment later saw his eyes open.
“Keep fighting, human,” he sputtered, between coughs. “For me, it appears that today is a good day to—”
“Not yet it isn’t.” She turned at the sound of running footsteps and saw Shimizu and Joanna running toward her. Around the clearing, the remaining battle sleds all had been disabled, their pilots either stunned or retreating into the forest. Joanna proceeded past Una to crouch next to Gorkon.
“They gave up once we started hitting back,” said Shimizu. “I don’t think they’ve ever had to deal with that level of resistance. Two of the sleds withdrew completely, and we let them go.”
Una nodded. “It won’t be long before Woryan knows the game’s changed. We can’t stay here.”
Looking up from her examination of Gorkon, Joanna said, “He’s dead. Just based on what I could see, he likely had massive internal injuries. There was nothing we could’ve done for him out here.”
Her gaze lingering on the fallen Klingon warrior, Una nodded in resignation. Whatever Gorkon’s ultimate fate might be in this existence, he was lost to them in the here and now. “He fought to the very end.” Assuming they ever found a way out of this place, she resolved to communicate back to the Klingon Empire and Gorkon’s family of his brave and noble sacrifice. Though such a gesture likely would do little to soothe any tensions between the Empire and the Federation, it might still bring a loved one some measure of peace.
Leaving Shimizu to assist Joanna in helping Le May and Stevens as well as the Usildar treat their wounded, Una made her way back to the camp. There she found Sarek waiting for her, and the Vulcan was not alone. Standing next to him was an unarmed and unarmored Jatohr. Slowly, she tucked her phaser into her waistband at the small of her back, pulling her tunic down to conceal the weapon. Her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the new arrival, she moved to Sarek.
“Gorkon is dead,” she said.
Sarek nodded. “I know.” Before Una could even respond to that unexpected answer, the ambassador said, “Captain, this is Anadac. S/he means us no harm.”
“How can you be sure?” she asked.
“The same way I know Gorkon is dead.”
Una turned her full attention to the Jatohr. The oversized gastropod shifted hir bulk, and Una realized s/he appeared nervous, if not outright scared.
“I am a scientist, not a soldier,” s/he said. “I tried to stop them, but Woryan commands them.” Una found it interesting that she now comprehended the Jatohr’s gurgling speech patterns without the aid of technology. It had to be another byproduct of their odd surroundings, and Una was growing increasingly uninterested in questioning such things.
“And what about you?” she asked. “Aren’t you under his command as well?”
Anadac replied, “No. I abhor violence, and I am not alone. Our kind used to value all life universally, but it was with the implied conceit that Jatohr were the most intelligent form of life we ever would encounter. Once it was learned that other life existed and possessed similar if not greater intellect, many of my people began to fear the implications of such a discovery. Woryan and others like hir leveraged that uncertainty even as the scientific community struggled to prepare us for transition to your universe. It was hoped that we could find a new world and live in peace, but Woryan and his ilk have other agend
as.”
“Unlike Professor Eljor,” said Una, recalling her first meeting with the Jatohr scientist back on Usilde. “I knew hir. S/he helped us once, long ago.”
Anadac seemed to brighten at her comment. “You do understand, just as you must understand that I am here with you now at great risk to myself. If it is learned that I am here, I will be reported as a traitor and my life will be forfeit, but I had to find you.”
“Why?” asked Sarek.
“Woryan has commanded me to attempt re-creating Eljor’s work. I have developed a device capable of transferring all beings from this realm to yours. However, it is dependent upon energies expended by the transfer-field generator Eljor constructed in your universe. Once in position and activated, my device will harness those energies, allowing safe passage for anyone.” S/he paused, then added, “You understand what this means, yes? My device is not selective, as Eljor’s is.”
Una replied, “So, you’re saying you can get us home, but you can’t keep Woryan and his armies from following us.”
“Precisely. Woryan possesses the working device, although he is not aware that it is operational. He is sure to demand it be used once I am dead, so if you want to return to your world, and perhaps prevent Woryan from doing so as well, you must act.”
“What can we do?” asked Una.
“I have observed you,” replied the Jatohr, “and Sarek as well. It is obvious that you are different from your companions, at least in some ways. You command abilities here that are beyond the others’ comprehension. I also have seen that you respect life as we do—at least, the majority of my people. I hope you will be guided by that regard for all living things as you seek a peaceful solution to this dilemma, for all our sakes.”
