Lost Time

by Ilsa J. Bick

  Duffy thought back to the moments after Kane had deactivated that…whatever it was. Hebitian, Cardassian, Bajoran, or something else altogether: He didn’t know, and wondered if now they ever would. 110 had awakened, finally; 111 had calmed, but there was a haunted look in her eyes: as if she’d been privy to a vision of a world Duffy couldn’t begin to imagine.

  Yet what he hadn’t imagined was the look on Captain Kira’s face after she and Salek and Jadzia Dax had emerged from Gold’s ready room. Why the Trill had been included, Duffy hadn’t a clue, but there was a preternatural glitter to her eyes that Duffy didn’t like. Nor did he know what had transpired, but whatever it was had clearly left Kira shaken and her lips so thinned they cut a horizontal gash above her chin. True to form, Salek was a cipher. But when Gold finally emerged, he had the thunderous look of a black, brooding storm.

  Yeah, and I can guess why: because we’re all going to get ourselves killed chasing after some Trill’s hallucinations.

  Duffy hadn’t spent much time around Dax, not enough to really understand everything about this religion she was so hot about. There had been rumors, of course; Kira’s ship was a standard Bajoran assault vessel, with a crew complement that was barely a tenth of the Gettysburg. Word traveled fast. Duffy was one of four officers on loan from Starfleet. His shipmates were Bajorans, not all religious but none with any love for the Cardassians. Duffy listened to their gripes in the mess; his roommate was an agnostic, but even he saw no utility to allying themselves to a power that would, in effect, shackle them with latinum chains. They saw the Federation as more benevolent in its way.

  So we leave them to manage their wealth and affairs as they see fit, but one hand washes the other. We get rid of the Cardassians and give them their gods, and the Federation gets resources it needs to push the Cardassians back.

  Yet for all the unknowns, it was Dax who scared him the most. She was so…intense, so certain that hers was the correct path and there could be no other. Perhaps part was this Orb thing; Duffy guessed if he’d been in touch with something calling itself the Almighty, maybe he’d be a bit intense himself.

  Looking down, he said, suddenly, “Do you believe in fate?”

  “What?” Sprawled at his feet, Sonya Gomez was cantilevered on her side, a spanner in one hand, a warp calibration meter in the other. Her hair had frizzed from perspiration and there was a smear of something suspiciously like Heplart grease on her right cheek. She had never looked more beautiful. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I’m curious.”

  “Well,” she said, turning back to her work, “I think that some things are fated to happen no matter what you do about it. Sun going nova, that kind of thing. There are certain fundamentals to the universe I can’t change because, you know, the universe doesn’t care. It’ll kill you a thousand ways to Sunday, you give it half a chance.”

  “Well, we are cheery.”

  “You asked. Given what we’re about to do, it’s kind of appropriate, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Goes almost without saying. But I meant people—do you think that our lives are scripted somehow so that no matter what, you can’t change your destiny?”

  She sat up now. Her dark eyes searched his face. “111 really got you spooked.”

  “Yeah. It’s weird. Knowing there are an infinite number of Kieran Duffys just as there are a million Sonya Gomezes. But I can’t imagine loving anyone but you, right here, right at this moment, in this reality.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll have to hang on to.”

  “But if I knew what was going to happen, would whatever I did be worth the cost? Is this?” He gestured with a hand to include the warp core, engineering, the ship. “Is a religion I don’t practice, people I really don’t know…are any of these things worth dying for?”

  Gomez carefully put her spanner in a nearby tool kit and squared her warp recalibration meter alongside. Then she pushed to her feet, brushed grit from her hands and slipped her arms around his waist. “I don’t think we can judge the value of an individual mission. We have no idea what will happen to Bajor or the Federation if we succeed. But we do know that the Federation’s not getting any stronger, and the Cardassians are. I don’t know about you, but I care about my freedom, and real freedom means you choose. I choose the Federation, and the rest will have to work itself out. I remember when I was a kid. I read Milton: not all that ruling in hell part but the idea behind it. About the freedom to choose. If you really read it carefully, Satan had a choice, and he chose to rule rather than serve. Everyone always assumes that meant he made the wrong choice. But he didn’t. He made the best choice for him. The one thing Milton never confused was choice and happiness. So just because you have freedom of choice doesn’t mean that you’re fated to live happily ever after.”

  “So how do we know this is the right choice?”

  “We don’t. It’s just the best one for now.”

  “Yeah, but—” Duffy was interrupted by a hail. “Duffy, here.”

  “Feliciano, Commander. You’re needed aboard the Li.”

  “Just a sec.” Suddenly, he was filled with an overwhelming flood of panic that made his mouth go dry. There were so many things he wanted to say; he was full to bursting of things he’d never said and thought that, probably, were way too many to start now. “Okay, look, Sonnie—you got to watch that antimatter mix when you initiate the magnetic field to channel the tetryon particles.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at his sudden shift. “I’ll watch it.”

  “And the anti-chronitons, you got to remember that the field’s got to oscillate to contain—”

  She put her fingers to his mouth. “I’m on it, Kieran. It’ll be okay.”

  “God.” Duffy took her hand in both of his and pressed it to his lips in a kiss. He thumbed grease from her face then cupped her cheek. “What I really mean is—why do I keep having this feeling that I’m never going to see you again?”

  Gomez tried a smile, but it came out crooked. “Because you’re a cockeyed optimist?”

  “Yeah,” said Duffy. He gave a breathy laugh and squeezed her in a bear hug. Amazingly, her hair still felt like silk against his face and he breathed her in, stamping her scent and the feel of her body, warm and alive, into his brain. “I’m scared for you.”

  He felt her nod against his chest. “I’m scared for us both,” she said, her voice muffled. Then she looked up, and her dark eyes glistened. “But I love you, Kieran Duffy, and I…” She took his face and gave him a ferocious kiss that left him breathless. “And you want to know about fate? Well, this is ours: Yes.”

  “Yes. Yes…what?” Then, as he understood: “Yes? Did you say…?”

  “Yes,” she said, with a smile that broke his heart. Then she patted his combadge and stepped out of the circle of his arms. “Feliciano, beam Commander Duffy back to the Li.”

  She saw Duffy reach for his pocket. “Wait, I have to gi—” Duffy began, but then there was a swirl of light; Duffy’s form broke apart; and he was gone.

  “Save it for the next time I see you,” whispered Sonya Gomez. The tears she’d held back rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t bother brushing them away. “Because, yes, I will see you, my love. Yes.”

  “Li reports Commander Duffy aboard,” said Susan Haznedl from ops.

  Gold nodded. “Very well. Salek, initiate saucer separation.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Gold felt a perceptible jolt and then a tremor shimmy through the deckplates of the battle bridge as the eighteen docking latches and umbilical blocks tethering the Gettysburg’s saucer to the battle section detached. On the main viewscreen, a green etched schematic showed the ellipse of the saucer lifting away and forward from the battle section. “And now, Captain Kira, there are three,” Gold murmured.

  “Saucer separation complete,” said McAllan. “Automatic path termination seals to the turbolift shafts are locked.
”

  “Good. Raise shields. Red alert.” Klaxons shrilled. The light in the battle bridge section was always darker than in the saucer’s bridge, and now, going to red alert, the shadows lengthened into rust-colored slashes. Like drying blood. “Weapons status.”

  “Phasers charged and ready. Photon torpedoes are online. Commander Salek reports that shuttlecraft Templar is standing by, sir.”

  “Thank you, McAllan,” said Gold. “Let’s make sure we give the Cardassians something infinitely more interesting to look at. Wong, give me visual of where we’re headed.”

  The schematic of the separated vessels winked out to be replaced by a swath of space that was smeary with the purple and deep fuchsia contrails of ion storms and superheated plasma. Sizzling bolts of white-hot energy arced into streamers of cobalt and cerulean blue that, somehow, miraculously stood out against the darker background of space. There were no stars visible at all in the densest region of the Belt where they were headed and it was as if a child had upended a pot of paints over a black canvas, splaying colors in a bright, pulsating, riotous Medusa’s halo. The sight nearly took his breath away.

  “My God, it’s beautiful,” said Wong, his voice barely audible. “Like something out of a dream.”

  “You have some pretty interesting dreams,” said McAllan. “Captain, the area’s lousy with radiation. If our shields so much as burp for more than a couple minutes, we’re gonna fry.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to make sure they don’t. Believe me, if our shields don’t hold when we detonate all that stuff out there, frying’s going to be the least of your worries. Wong, course three-three-zero, mark one-five. Take us right into the heart of it; three-quarters impulse.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “McAllan, how long before we reach minimum safe distance to discharge the deflector array?” They’d debated that one around and around, settling finally for the option that would lower their chances of a miss.

  “Estimate we’ll reach the specified coordinates in ten point seven minutes, sir.”

  “All right. Once we discharge the deflector array keep those shields steady. What about the Li and the saucer section?”

  “Taking flanking positions, Captain, covering our tails and…”

  Gold was instantly attuned to the hitch in McAllan’s voice. “Lieutenant?”

  In the bloody half-light, McAllan’s skin had gone dead white. “Cardassian vessels, Captain, on an intercept course. Two Keldon, one Hideki. Their shields are up; I read that they have energized their weapons and—Sir, Salek and the Li are moving to cover! The Cardassians are firing!”

  “Hard about! Return fire!” Kira was up and out of her seat. Another disruptor slammed against the Li on the port side, and an inertial damper stuttered offline for an instant because Kira was thrown back and crashed to the deck against a weapons console. There was a blinding flash as a circuit shorted, and then someone was screaming to her right. Kira caught the acrid odor of burning metal, scorched hair and singed flesh. She twisted around in time to see the communications officer’s uniform erupt in a ball of flame.

  “Get a medic up here!” Charging, Kira flung herself at the woman. They crashed to the deck, and Kira went spread-eagled, smothering the flames as the screeching woman writhed beneath her. Starbursts of pain seared Kira’s palms and chest, and flames licked the underside of her neck, but she held on, praying her own hair wouldn’t ignite. “Return fire! Take out their disruptors!”

  “Can’t!” Her tactical officer’s face was smeary with fresh blood and soot. He turned aside and spat out a gobbet of rust-colored saliva. A rivulet of blood tracked down his chin. “Our weapons are offline! Shields at fifty percent!”

  “Engineering!” A medic came charging onto the bridge, and as Kira rolled away, another disruptor pulse battered their hull. Kira clawed her way back to her command chair. She banged open a channel with her fist, ignoring the scream of pain that lanced her scorched hand and forearm. “Duffy! We need weapons!”

  “Trying, Captain!” Duffy’s voice was frayed with static, and Kira heard the background gabble of voices. “It’s all I can do right now to keep your engines and shields online. I can steal power from life support.”

  “Do it!” Kira jerked her head to her helmsman. “Initiate evasive maneuvers, best speed, Kira-Three!”

  The stars on her viewscreen wheeled as the Li rocketed nearly perpendicular to an imaginary horizon in a steep, swirling, spiral climb. In an atmosphere, there would have been the howl of air screaming over a canopy, and anyone on the ground would have seen the assault vessel twirling on its long axis, presenting as little surface area as possible to the enemy. But the Li was sluggish; Kira felt it and saw how the stars cartwheeled in a giddy slow motion.

  Not fast enough, we can’t get up the speed; they’ll take us out with the next couple of salvos unless…“Where’s the saucer?”

  “She managed to slip in between that lead Keldon and the Gettysburg, but she’s angling off and dropping back, Captain. She’s got a hull rupture somewhere. I read vented atmosphere and debris.”

  “What’s her speed?”

  “One-half impulse…now one-quarter. Slewing back our way…they must have lost control, Captain. She’s a sitting duck!”

  Kira’s heart banged against her ribs. “Is the Hideki still in pursuit of the saucer?”

  “Negative, breaking away. Turning now. Captain, they’re coming after us.”

  A surge of elation roared through her veins, and her mouth filled with the metallic edge of adrenaline. That’s right, there are bigger fish to fry than that old, banged-up saucer, so come on! “What about the Gettysburg?” Kira’s voice was suddenly thinning to a wheeze. The air on the bridge was getting thick and tasted of oily soot, and wasn’t going to get any better if Duffy had rerouted power for environmental controls to the engines. Her eyes began to burn. “Where is she? Is she in position?”

  “Estimate seven minutes, fifty-seven seconds.” Her tactical officer armed blood and sweat from his eyes. The air was thick enough that his eyes were streaming. “That second warship’s come about, right on the Gettysburg’s tail, accelerating.” Looking at the console, he added, “Incoming message, Captain—it’s the Gettysburg!”

  “On speaker.” The bridge was suddenly awash in the electric sizzle of interference, a sound like butter sputtering on a hot grill. Kira strained to catch what Gold was shouting, then decided there wasn’t time to worry about it. She hailed engineering. “Duffy?”

  Duffy’s voice was clogged, and he was hacking. “Sorry, Captain, but you’ve got a choice. It’s either speed or more shields.”

  “I need weapons.”

  “No can do.”

  This is it. We knew it would come to this, now I’ve just got to trust that—“Then give me speed, Duffy. Give me all you’ve got.” She clicked off. “Helm, come about. Course zero-nine-zero, mark four-five, z minus thirty.” Her helmsman’s back stiffened, and he half-turned. “You heard me,” she snapped. “Bring us about.”

  Her helmsman’s throat moved in a hard swallow. “Aye, Captain. Course laid in.”

  “Engage.”

  “Lower your shields!” Gold bellowed in frustration. “Kira, do you hear me, lower—”

  “She’s coming about, Captain,” McAllan said. “The Li’s jumped to full impulse—ramming speed. Their shields are at twenty percent; they’re dodging, taking evasive maneuvers—she’s going to hit them broadside in fourteen point eight seconds.”

  “Can we help her?”

  “Negative, sir, not unless we come about, and the other Keldon’s too close, they’ll take us out for sure.”

  “Kira!” Gold whirled on his heel. “Haznedl, get me Salek.”

  “You’ve got him, sir.”

  “Salek, now, jettison escape pods!”

  “Acknowledged, Captain.” Even in the heat of battle, the Vulcan’s voice was a study of calm certitude. “Pods jettisoned. The Templar is away.”

  “Hazn
edl, can you raise the Li?”

  “Still trying, Captain and—got her, sir.”

  “Kira!” Gold roared. “Now, for the love of God, now!”

  “Captain!” Kira’s tactical officer whipped around in his chair. “The saucer’s jettisoned escape pods, and their shields are down. Time to impact Keldon warship—nine seconds.”

  “What about the Templar?”

  “She’s away. No pursuit.”

  Because she’s not worth worrying about, is she? Oh boy, have you bastards got another thing coming. “Give me visual.” Kira saw the tiny speck that was the Templar accelerating out of the Denorios Belt; the Gettysburg’s escape pods tumbling wildly through space, like a child’s building blocks knocked askew; the pods dispersing in a wide arc the way waves expand after a rock’s ruptured the surface of water. And then the screen shimmered and there was the sickly brown hull of a Keldon warship rushing to meet them. “Drop shields!”

  “Captain,” her tactical officer shouted, “the Keldon’s firing.”

  Kira winced at a sudden flash; the Li’s bridge exploded in white-hot light; there was the flicker of a sensation more than the image of a fireball and then there was a swirl as the bridge dissolved, disintegrated before Kira’s eyes….

  And went black.

  McAllan cried, “She’s going to hit!”

  “Salek,” Gold said, feeling the cords of his forearms knot and bulge as his hands fisted, “do it now.”

  And then time slowed and stretched like a broad elastic ribbon, and Gold saw it all, felt everything: the bite of his nails into his palms; the stutter of his heart as the Keldon spewed a salvo of glittering green death; and then there was the Li dodging, evading, weaving—and then the Gettysburg’s pods erupting one right after the other in rapid-fire sequence as the explosives packed inside detonated. The detonations pillowed, balled, grew, fed on themselves and the hot plasma streamers swirling around the Keldon and Hideki. Hit from behind, the Hideki lost control, tumbling end over end, and then Gold saw that the Keldon had one final choice: kill the Li, or blow the much-larger Hideki out of space. The warship chose the Hideki…