Her silver hair whipped out behind her and her neck shrank back into the coat’s warm fur lining. The ice winds had a vicious bite to them that afternoon. At the end of the path, at the gates of the Zhaman’ti College yard, she waited for him. Ahead, the Fields of Ell stretched over the horizon. Flat, cratered only occasionally by blueish patches of meltwater, the vast white plain was overwhelming to the unevolved eyes of offworlders. Even the Andorians, so used to their subterranean dwellings, could not stand the harsh glare of the Efrosian ice for long.

Her legs swung out in front of her as she balanced herself on the shoulder-high metal railing. She sighed, exhaling a puff of vapour that coiled up from her mouth. As she slumped forward, resting her chin on her hands, it was clear to any passersby that there were many, many more things she’d rather be doing. A few shuttles came and went. A tour group leader commented loudly on the yard’s ice sculptures and myer’zhan trees, their buttress roots strong enough to survive the brutal winds that howled through Ell like a stampeding pack of blizzard hounds.

From the corner of her eye he approached. Striding across the brownish trodden snow from the shuttlepad, he shielded his eyes and the large expanse of skin between them with a raised arm. Humanoid from the neck down, his face was scaled with brownish greens. It occupied a curiously shaped head, unlike any species she’d seen before. The rest of him was adorned with the uniform of a Starfleet Captain.

“Sreyler Theb,” he called out through the crisp air, “is that you?”

***

On the face of it, the symbol seemed like nothing more than an innocuous error message. In fact, if there were only one unresponsive computer displaying the terminal Greek letter, any Engineer might have thought nothing of it and simply tried a reboot. The problem was that nearly every single display on the USS Ahwahnee’s bridge now shone with what in some ancient Earth cultures had once represented armageddon, the end of everything; omega.

“Bridge to Captain Vordenna,” Lieutenant Commander Alex Lupulo’s rapidfire New York brogue cut through the tense murmurings of a ready room conversation that had drained all colour from the Argosian’s face.

“Ah, I’m being summoned right on time. I’ll see to its elimination, Commodore. My crew, on the other hand…” He scratched at his temple, “We’ll get it done. Vordenna out.”

“Bridge to Captain Vor-”

“Standby, Commander.” Felrak shot up from his desk and through to the bridge, “Computer, reinstate shipwide command functions, authorisation Vordenna eight-eight-eight-six green.” He continued over to the center chair, “Helm, take us into orbit of the third planet in the system.”

“Aye, sir…” Came Lieutenant Althaia Delfino’s perplexed response.

“Captain,” Tursk leaned over from the First Officer’s seat, “Our sensors are only just back online. We barely got a read on the system. Our destination is nowhere near here, sir. As your First Officer, I must say this is highly irregular.”

Felrak’s gaze was locked dead ahead as the planet grew in size on the main viewer. “All in good time, Mr. Tursk.” He clicked his green tongue against his top row of teeth and rose from his chair. He turned his back to the main viewer, surveying the bridge and the officers who naturally looked straight to him, “You will all no doubt be wondering what’s going on.” Felrak assumed, quite correctly, “All I can tell you now is that Starfleet and the Federation as we know it is in grave danger, and a protocol has been activated about which only I have been briefed.”

“What kind of danger, Captain?” Lupulo faced Felrak dead on from behind the tactical station.

“An existential threat.”

Lupulo’s eyes narrowed, “With respect, sir, a known existential threat to the Federation would surely be something also known by any Starfleet crew.”

“Not this one. Starfleet has decided that the fewer people who are aware of this, the better.” Felrak could feel his Tactical Officer merely said aloud what the rest of the bridge crew were thinking.

Commander Tursk, who had begun to glower in Lupulo’s direction, now interjected, “We’ve entered orbit of Gorman III, sir. It’s a Class M planet. Inhabited. There’s a strong ionising radiation field making detailed scans impossible. Your orders?”

“Good,” Felrak replied, “Tursk, there is a schematic program in my personal directory titled Omega-five-one-alpha. Inside you will find instructions for the construction of a device known as a “harmonic resonance chamber”. You and Commander Theb will see to it that the components are fabricated and the device is constructed in cargo bay one.”

“Aye, sir.” The Tellarite First Officer barely blinked, absorbing the Captain’s instructions.

Felrak nodded, “Now, inform the main transporter room there will be one to beam down to Gorman III. On the surface, I will mark a location by placing a transponder. This will allow you to beam the target directly into the resonance chamber.”

“SIR?!” Lupulo exploded, “Sensors are showing a pre-industrial civilisation on the surface! How can you even think about beaming down? They might be reptilian but you’re not exactly gonna blend in. You’ll scare them six ways from Sunday, and that’s if you’re lucky!”

“Commander,” Felrak knew he was asking for a leap of faith, “trust me. There’s something Starfleet needs down there. You know I’d beam it straight back up here if I could. The ionising radiation in the atmosphere won’t let us get a transporter lock.”

Raw disbelief coursed through Lupulo, who did not mince his words, “That doesn’t change anything. It’s the Prime Directive. My God –  I can’t believe this is happening, on the Ahwahnee of all places. You go down there and you’ll pollute that species’ development. There’s no way of telling what’s gonna happen. It’s the Prime Directive! You can’t-”

“Prime Directive or not, you’re still an officer aboard this ship, Lup.” Tursk’s gravelly voice dropped low, signalling his low appetite for insubordinate talkback.

“I don’t care if there’s a McGuffin down there that’s gonna put Romulus back together, you’re not Gods, either of you.” he waved a hand towards the two most senior officers, “You have no right, legal or otherwise, to go down there and cause untold damage to a culture on its natural path of development.”

“You will follow your orders like the rest of us, Lup.” Tursk shot back.

“I WILL NOT.” All eyes on the bridge were fixed on Lupulo as he slammed his fist into the tactical controls, “We have an obligation, Commander. Starfleet Regulation 28; a Starfleet officer may refuse to carry out any order given that demonstrates palpable unlawfulness. It doesn’t get more illegal than this, sir! I believe we all have a responsibility here,” Lupulo look around the bridge at the other officers, “all of us have a responsibility not to let this happen.”

Vordenna’s voice ran cold, “Security team to the bridge. Mr. Lupulo will be confined to quarters until further notice.”

“You suggest mutiny.” Turks stated, flatly. The anger was gone as the tellarite detached himself emotionally from the situation, preparing for what was to come.

“Wrong. It’s the legal duty of every Starfleet officer to uphold the Prime Directive. The Captain has given us no justification, no real explanation, just a flimsy premise that Starfleet needs something on that planet. Argh!” Two gold shirted crewmen grabbed each of Lupulo’s arms. Quickly, he wrenched himself free, “Get off of me! I know the way to my damned quarters.”

At that moment, another turbolift arrived. From it stepped the diminutive form of Lieutenant Commander Sreyler Theb. Her silver hair bobbed as, head down, she made straight for the engineering terminal, “Sir, this is weird but we got shut out of computer access for a while down in engineering. I’m gonna need to run a diagnostic from the bridge-” She did a double take, looking back towards Lupulo who, flanked by the two security officers, disappeared into the turbo lift from which she had come. “Um, OK…”

Felrak picked up a PADD that had been resting on the arm of the centre chair. Tapping in an access code, he passed the device over to Tursk, “Prepare transporter room one with these  coordinates in thirty minutes.” Felrak said to Tursk urgently, “I’ll have what I need ready by then.”

“Aye, sir. The ionising radiation-”

“-is going to make things difficult. I’ll have a second transponder with me that I will keep on my person at all times. You can lock onto that when the time comes to beam me out.”

“Hey, so, what’s going on?” Captain and First Officer both turned towards the Chief Engineer as she stood, arms folded and head cocked to one side, “First this weird omega stuff on the consoles, then I see Lup getting carried out of here. Now everyone’s acting all conspiratorial. What. Is. Up?”

Felrak ignored her questions completely, “You have the bridge, Commander Theb.”

“WHAT?!

Wordlessly, the two men marched up the bridge and past Sreyler, turbolift doors swooshing closed behind them. She stood gobsmacked for several seconds before refocusing on the crew that now looked to her in bafflement at what had just unfolded before their eyes. She stepped around the partitioning beam towards the centre chair, seated herself, and with a look of visible discomfort announced, “Helm, where are we?”

***

Felrak stepped onto the transporter pad. A khaki coloured knapsack was slung over the Argosian’s right shoulder, and he wore a rough cloth tunic of mottled green and grey. His breeches were made of what looked like corduroy, with deep pockets in the left of which he had concealed a tricorder.

“This clothing should be suitable enough.” He asserted in an attempt to convince himself.

Tursk was busy making the final preparations, “Those scans were quick and dirty. You’ll need a convincing story to explain… Well, everything.” He made a gesture towards Felrak’s decidedly un-Gormanesque features. The wide-spaced eyes, the lack of a tail, the blunt teeth, “You look vaguely reptilian I guess. More than this hairy specimen can say.”

A ghost of a smile was silhouetted across Felrak’s face, almost breaking through the frantic rush of that fearful moment, “How much longer?”

Tursk looked up from the transporter controls, “Captain, you don’t have to do this alone.”

“Yes I do, Tursk.”

The Tellarite stopped, “I know about omega.”

“What? How?”

“I’ve been in the fleet long enough, Captain. I thought they were just rumours. Stories passed around the command staff. Now I know the molecule is real, and I know what you have to do.”

A small measure of relief ran through Felrak as his First Officer looked towards him with understanding in his eyes, “They’re appearing across the galaxy. The response teams are overwhelmed, and so this is what it’s come to. The danger is unfathomable, Tursk.”

“Let me come with you.”

“No. You saw them on the bridge. They’re confused. Disappointed. The Prime Directive… Everything they thought they stood for turned on its head. You stay here and keep them together. There’s no one else coming, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The anguish was distinct in Tursk’s words.

“I will transmit a report once a day, roughly every 32 hours. If you lose contact, under no circumstances are you to follow me down to the surface. Instead, you are to contact Commodore Tharc at Starbase 86. She will brief you further.”

“Understood,” Tursk said. The transporter controls sounded an alert, “There’s a break in the radiation cover. We’ve got a lock on your target coordinates. Are you ready, sir?”

“Just one more thing.”

“Sir?”

“Don’t let them know you know.” Felrak hoisted the knapsack over his other shoulder and double checked the tricorder as he prepared to leave his world.

“Energise.”

Mud slopped around his ankles. The sky was grey and the rain drizzled down in a fine mist, light but soaking him through nonetheless. Felrak had tramped for around a kilometre this way. The water droplets acted like small prisms, refracting the tiny blinking lights of his tricorder display into little coloured snowflakes. He stopped for a moment, wiping the tricorder with a canvas sleeve, squinting to read the compass bearing. A small wooded area lay dead ahead. He would take shelter there for a brief time, but he did not have enough to rest for long. The going would be faster beneath the cover of the trees.

Atmospheric ionising radiation had greatly reduced the accuracy of the transporter, necessitating his beam down to Gorman III in an area devoid of any structures, organic or otherwise. Worse still, ship’s sensors could only establish a rough read on the omega molecule’s location. Felrak’s tricorder had improved things, but the signal now emanated from a position 80 kilometres east of his current muddy struggle. The rain dribbled off the top lip of his hood and the marshy ground sucked at his feet as he closed on the treeline. The thought of covering the distance in his current condition drew his mind back to Argosia. There, on the Bolr’yd Plains, the rain had fallen thick and fast. Not like this miserable precipitate spray. Then again, just about everything on Argosia had appeared to Felrak more vibrant than this. Here, the browns and washed out greens disappeared into the rain so quickly that even the speckled eggshell birds faded from sight in seconds. He squelched on.

The trees were scraggly, autumnal things. Their leaves hung low with the weight of moisture. The drips were fat now, the bedraggled canopy providing just enough shelter for Felrak to push back his sodden hood. He looked behind, towards the muddy flat from where he’d come. Raised furrows extended off into the fog, between them troughs of pooled rainwater. The uniformity of the ups and downs had been ruined by his clumsy, sliding footprints. Mud smeared where he had struggled to find his footing. It wasn’t this that concerned Felrak, however. The neat rows suggested agriculture, agriculture meant civilisation, and right now that meant trouble.

Felrak recalled Tursk’s briefing. Gorman III was mostly populated with a highly evolved reptilian species, known to the Federation as the Gürm. Research on the planet was so far confined to the initial mission sent to chart the system in 2361, when the planet was added to the long list of Federation protectorate species never to be interfered with until the development of warp drive. Of little anthropological interest and hardly on the verge of any scientific breakthrough, the Gürm were about as far down Starfleet’s list of research priorities a species might get. Felrak shook his head. Of all the places an omega molecule could have made an appearance, it had to be a damp corner of a pre-warp rock. He closed his eyes for a second, banishing a flash of despair, and that’s when he heard the voice.

“You! In the trees! Come out now, I can see ya!”

Felrak took off immediately, stumbling across pitted ground. Willowy branches whipped across his body, and the foliage became more dense as he ran. He stole a look behind him, to no avail. Leaves and vegetation surrounded him, brushwood snapped underfoot. He pushed himself forward, blind to what lay in front of him. His own heavy breathing filled his ears before he slowed to a walk. Reaching into his overcoat pocket, he flipped out the tricorder. A few chirps confirmed a large enough lifesign 200 metres away, but it was not closing any further on his position. Satisfied, Felrak pocketed the tricorder again and stepped forward, away from what could surely have been the most slapdash first contact ever conducted.

It felt tight at first. A gentle tugging, as if he’d brushed against a thorny briar. Felrak’s first instinct was to pull away and continue on without even looking down. As he pulled, the tightness grew. It began to cut into him and he cried out in pain. Collapsed on a mossy rise, Felrak looked in horror down towards his ankle. A thin wire looped around it, squeezing through the waxed material of his clothing. He had walked on too far, tightening the loop so much that he could now feel the restricted blood supply to his foot. The area quickly filled up with a fuzzy tingling, making it impossible to apply any weight. Felrak crawled back awkwardly, examining the wire. His knees sank into the spongy loam as he pawed at the undergrowth, looking frantically for whatever the wire was fixed to. A metal pole bolted securely to the ground lay in front of him. The wire was locked in tight.

A sharp stinging sensation now rose up. Still on his hands and knees, he looked around to see that in his struggle the wire had cut clean through his pant leg. Blood smeared out from under its grip, forming a slow trickle towards his foot. He reached a finger down, running it along the wire’s edge. There was a stickiness to it. He held the finger up to a bulbous eye. A white, glue-like substance coated it. His eyes drooped. He slumped back against the metal pole. The dull patter of the rain against the leaves surrounded him, and the soothing petrichor soothed his racing thoughts.

***

Salatryx leaned back against the side of the cart. The planks and wooden boards creaked in protest against the rivets that held them together. The wheels bumped and juddered on the road’s stony surface. He eyed the strange figure who lay, still unconscious, on the bench opposite. A forked tongue flicked out from between Salatryx’s sharp, fanged teeth. It just as quickly disappeared. A human might have thought Salatryx was distinctly reptilian, save for the three bony extrusions that ran the length of his skull. Humans were, however, entirely unfamiliar to these squinting eyes that scanned the evening murk.

“Arned-eight to Sandastrom.” The driver called out through the chill night air. The dull, rhythmic clopping of the six-legged burden beast was the only response. The yoke weighed down heavy on its shoulders. Its horned head lowered in a slow motion charge as it heaved against the weight of the cart. Muscles rippled underneath its blueish epidermal scales that were scored with countless marks from years of toil. It gave an impetuous huff, then lumbered on.

A series of stone built dwellings passed by, smoke rising from little chimneys that poked through their rough thatched rooftops. More eyes peered into the gloom as the cart continued on the road between the houses. The driver produced a long lighting taper and some sparking stones, briefly tying the reins to a hook that beckoned into the night beside him. Knocking the stones together, the sparks caught on the taper in a little puff of flame. He held it to the two lanterns mounted on the cart’s front corners, their thick wicks and mirrored backing producing just enough light to cast a soft glow on the road ahead.

Salatryx often marvelled at how different the town appeared in the dark of the eastingtime. After the sun had sunk it was almost as if he and others were no longer welcome on the streets. He felt it acutely; the sense that this was a foreboding time, of some strange malevolence that, while not immediately dangerous, was always there with you. He knew many others that felt the same way about these hours, of the stories whispered of disappearances and the strange creatures that stalked the nether roads. There lay one of those creatures in front of him now. He shook himself from these flights of fancy, grasping his rationality once again. This creature of the black did not appear threatening at all. It’s appendages were similar to his own, except this thing lacked a tail to keep its balance. It’s eyes too were strange, almost as if they rested on distended stalks that stretched from either side of its flattened face. No, this was no hunter of prey. He leaned over the body that still lay limp on the bench. Its mouth hung open, its teeth smooth and rounded as if purposed more for grinding leaves. The snare’s poison was meant for much smaller animals and Salatryx was surprised the effects had lasted this long. He could see the creature was now beginning to stir.

The muddy, potholed road had transformed into flattened cobbles laid into clay. The cart moved faster now, and the buildings had grown taller.

“Sandastrom, harrup!” The driver called in a clear trill that echoed along the street of darkened, shuttered windows. The beast’s hooves immediately ceased their onward trudge, and it snorted in acknowledgement. Two cloaked figures emerged from a doorway.

“What hour do you call this, Salatryx?” A voice hissed as the first of them hurried over to the cart, “And where’s the catch? The cart’s empty! Gone for the whole day and nothing to show for it. You’re a good for nothing nest-loafer, what are you even going to pay the driver with?”

“Shhhh. Quiet, you’ll wake the whole street,” Salatryx leapt down, standing between his wife and his quarry which now rolled off the bench and onto the wooden planks of the cart floor with a thud, “Look at this…” He waved her over.

“You’re insane, you mangy gadabout. You’ve really gone too far this time- that’s a person in there! Just rolling around on the floor like another animal, look at his leg!”

From the house next door came a stirring. The sound of muffled footsteps across creaking floorboards spilled out onto the street.

“QUIET Etrexia!” Salatryx nearly broke from his whisper, “Got caught in one of the snares, didn’t he? Get ‘im inside. We’ll have him fed and have him on his way tomorrow. Least we could do, yeah? Frestwyx, get over here, give us a hand.”

The young boy had hung back, confused by his parents’ hushed distress. On hearing his father’s call, the boy came running as his father began to heave the slumped body out from the back of the cart. The driver had dismounted too, surveying the situation, perplexed.

Salatryx leaned back, resting his weight on his tail and looping his hands under the strangely shaped man’s narrow shoulders.

“Here, take this. For your trouble.” Etrexia offered a few small metallic rods to the driver, who quickly pocketed them.

“Starfleet… Contact…  Omesshhggh…” Felrak choked on his own slurred voice as he was dragged across the street. Frestwyx held open the door as the cart began to depart. Then, just as quickly as it had arrived, the commotion was gone from the streets of Sandastrom.

***

The rain had passed. The air outside was crisp with a dawn chill. Inside, the fireplace crackled with dying embers of once roaring flames that had warmed his bones through the night. Pain seared behind Felrak’s eyes as he forced himself to sit up. His eyelids peeled back, dry as a bone. He steadied himself with one hand, struggling to focus his eyes. Two woolen blankets had been draped over him as he lay sleeping, and his overcoat hung from the back of a rickety chair. His wet clothing had been removed and was also hung up near the mantelpiece, leaving Felrak to stumble out of his makeshift bed in only his undergarments. He tripped as he lurched over towards the overcoat. His stomach sank. The ticorder, his com badge, the transponder; all gone.

His eyes darted around the room. Felrak desperately tried to process the flood of information pouring in through them. That was when he saw it. Mounted above the fireplace on metal brackets, there lay a long staff. It’s gleaming point bifurcated into a halberd, the two curved blades angled like a steel claw. For a moment, Felrak stared transfixed. Then he remembered. On his return from Argosia, he’d read the archeological papers with interest. He’d seen pictures of the artefacts recovered from the dig sites all over the Federation. This weapon was once wielded by ancients of immense, indescribable power. This weapon was of the Tkon.

Sreyler Theb’s fingers moved more and more frantically over the LCARs input. Tursk looked on from behind, hope fading from his face with every passing second. He could barely bring himself to look at what the screen now showed.

The disbelief was evident in Sreyler’s voice as she confirmed what she was seeing, “I’m not getting any lifesigns from his transponder. No response from coms. Radiation’s too strong to pick up the tricorder signal. Sir, there’s no way I can get a lock. He’s either nowhere near the transponder or…”

Tursk emitted a deep rumbling sigh, “There has to be a way to see through.”

“Sir, the lifesign data’s back,” The dash of hope in her voice was soon extinguished, “it’s not matching any kind of Argosian biosigns though. Must be Gürm.”

“I don’t care what we have to do, Commander, we’re going to get to that transponder’s location and find out what’s happened. Nothing changes as long as there’s a chance he’s still alive.” Tursk was resolute. He stood, unmoving as he racked his brains for solutions.

Sreyler’s thoughts came flooding in like the ice flows of her childhood. She thought of her parents, who bade farewell to her before she had left for Zhaman’ti; Xin-Ra Havreii, his tutelage and mentorship teaching her everything she now knew about starship systems. Then Vordenna, the kind soul, and commanding officer with whom she’d catalogued the wonders of the galaxy.

Her concentration returned, “I can try and isolate the radiation wavelength. Maybe matching it with the frequency of the emitter array could increase transporter accuracy. No…” Red flashed up on the panel, signalling the nonviability of the input parameters, “The rad-clouds in the upper atmosphere are way too thick.”

“Could we send a shuttle below them, beam in from there?” Tursk offered.

“Not powerful enough, the engines would be fried if it ever made it through the clouds.” Sreyler’s words were frayed with exasperation.

“Hmmmph, keep on it.” Tursk said, “I’m going down to the emitter array. If we can modify, boost the beam strength somehow, we might be able to punch through the radiation.”

“Aye sir,” Sreyler barely looked up.

Tursk headed for the turbolift, “Ensign Steldon, you’re with me.”

***

The early morning mist over Sandastrom had just begun to clear. The cold air circulated through the tightly packed rows of buildings, blowing browned leaves through streets paved with rough cut stone.

“Morning, Wide-eyes,” a voice from the door caused Felrak to whirl around, “brought you summat ta eat. Oh, looking for yer stuff?”

“Uhh,” Felrak eyed the reptile standing before him holding a tray of food, “thank you for the hospitality.” It began to dawn on him just how much trouble he was in, “so where are my things?

“Funny you should say that,” deep black eyes blinked from the top of a long, thin head, “we let the Magistrate know as soon as we’d picked you up. He’s the law around ‘ere, ya see? Anyways, he came around last night, and he seemed mighty interested in what ya had in those pockets.” The lizard cocked his head towards Felrak’s overcoat, still hanging over the fireplace.

“Oh…” Felrak’s stomach did a flip, “And you are?”

“Terribly sorry wide-eyes, Salatryx is the name,” the lizard placed the tray down on the chair beside him and held out a clawed hand. A forked tongue flicked out of his mouth, then back in before Felrak could blink.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m…” Felrak thought for a second, deciding against revealing too much, “Actually many people do call me Wide-eyes, never did have an easy time fitting in.” He went in for a handshake, then fumbled awkwardly as Salatryx pressed his palm against his.

“Eh, fancy that. The wife thought you were a swamp ogre or some kind of abomination from the outfarthings.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Yer seem pretty well spoken though, if you ask me. It’s just yer ‘ed shape that’s a bit off putting, and you’ve no tail. Skin’s a bit like mine, mind you. Just looks like you’ve got some funny stuff growing on yours. That an infection?” Salatryx held up an arm, looking between it and Felrak’s face to compare the tone of his flesh, “Where have you come from, anyway?”

Felrak couldn’t help but smile, “Very far away. Very far indeed.” His stomach let out a loud growl.

“Ah, where’s me manners?” Salatryx lifted the tray again, “Got some steamed cerrawinkles ‘ere, and a couple of kaambaps.”

The salted smell of shellfish and freshly baked bread wafted towards Felrak, “Those look delicious.”

“Sit yerself down then, Wide-eyes, get stuck in! I’ll stoke up the fire.”

Felrak did just that. The kaambap was dense and, lacking any implements with which to eat, took Felrak’s fingers a little work to break into. He pulled the warm bun apart, revealing starchy fibres of a pale yellow colour.

“‘Ere, like this.” Salatryx sat next to him, ripping apart his own kaambap and placing two of the slimy cerrawinkles in the middle. Felrak followed suit, then took a bite. A crunch signaled the mingling of sea salt with the bread’s chewy centre. It was hearty, and Felrak could feel his residual daze dissipating as he swallowed another mouthful. Without much sunlight, the lichens and moss on his skin had not produced the photosynthetic energy that would have usually kept the hunger at bay.

“This is delicious,” Felrak sat back for a moment after finishing the food.

It was Salatryx’s turn to smile, “Thankya Wide-eyes, hope that makes up for what yer’ve been through. I did want to apologise for that n’ all. That trap weren’t meant for you. Just wanted something a bit more substantial to feed the family with, din’t I?”

“I’d say that meal more than made up for it. And thank you for the stay.” Felrak kicked himself internally for not reading the Gürm database entry more thoroughly. He could have used at least some knowledge of their customs, “I’m afraid I don’t have any money.”

“Naw, think nothin’ of it! Least we could do before we take ya down to the Magistrate’s.”

“The Magistrate’s?”

“Yep, he wants ta see you as soon as possible. Mentioned that ‘e wanted to ask you a few questions about those trinkets.”

Felrak thought about it. Deciding that there was nothing he really had to lose at this point by going along with Salatryx and nothing to gain by refusing, he acquiesced, “Very well then.”

“Best get yerself ready, I’ll wait for you outside.” Salatryx made to leave the room.

“Salatryx, wait.” Felrak looked up to the halberd above the fireplace, “That,” he pointed, “is a fine weapon. Where could someone like me come across one of these?”

“Oh that?” Salatryx said half chuckling, “You won’t be finding any of those for sale, or anywhere else I’d wager. Been in the family for centuries, that one has. You’re right, it’s a fine blade. Served me well a good few times.”

Felrak held himself back from asking more questions. The situation was precarious enough without wandering into the minefield of revealing just how other he was. Instead, he merely nodded as his mind raced.

***

The streets of Sandastrom slowly filled as the Gorman Sun rose further along its crescent trajectory. Gürm went about their business, this way and that. Carts moved workers into the fields surrounding the town to till fields that had lain fallow over winter. Others dressed in fine livery and walked at a fast clip towards tall, columned buildings. On the far banks of the river, long hangars of red brick stood in neat rows, iron rivets maintaining the steep angle of their corrugated roofs. An autumnal bluster threatened rain, but the swollen dark clouds rolled overhead towards distant hills that marked the edge of the yonder weiyld.

Salatryx had given Felrak a hooded cloak to wear as they moved through the streets towards the Magistrate’s office. Even the loose, dark material was not enough to hide the shape of his head from curious onlookers. Etrexia and Frestwyx had joined them, in an attempt to divert some attention away from their strange guest, or at least discourage the citizens of Sandastrom from accosting Felrak in any way. Their plan appeared to be working, but that didn’t stop Felrak’s eyes from flitting nervously around, desperately avoiding the gaze of others as he continued to plant his feet where no offworlder had gone before.

“We’re nearly there,” Salatryx inclined his head forward, indicating a domed building towards the end of the road. Six large pillars stood before it, supporting the roof of a portico that extended out to form a covered courtyard. Trees that reminded Felrak of Earth poplars were evenly spaced along either side of the road, culminating in a series of shallow stone steps that separated the structure from street level. Two guards holding spears stood motionless, facing each other two metres apart at the top of the stairs.

The party jumped to avoid a carriage, pulled by a burden beast at reckless speed as it rounded a corner in front. A few terse words passed between Salatryx and the driver before they continued up the stairs.

“My scales, you need to be more careful, Salatryx!” Etrexia admonished her husband, “What have you gotten us into now? The attacks are one thing, and now we’re paying visits to the Magistrate like it’s nothing? All we needed was something to eat.”

Salatryx ignored her, and they were greeted by a surly grunt from one of the guards.

“Who comes to see the Magistrate?”

“Salatryx, sir, and you’ll find I have an appointment. I’m here to present the…” He eyed Felrak, who was still concealed in the cloak, “He’ll know what I’m here for.”

“Hmph.” The guard snorted, and marched towards the large double doors. They creaked open to reveal a tiled entrance hall. Offset black and white squares stretched in a mosaic pattern across the floor.

“Thank you, sir,” Salatryx bowed his head to the guard as he stepped inside. A lightning flick of a crimson red tongue was the only response. The spear wielding lizard stared off into the middle distance. Salatryx made a hurrying motion with a claw, beckoning Felrak and the others inside.

Once through the small entrance hall, the interior of the Magistrate’s office opened out into a wide chamber. A large window took up nearly the entire rear wall, flooding cool morning light across a carpet threaded with a shiny metallic leaf. Busts of what Felrak presumed to be previous magistrates lined the chamber’s perimeter, nine in total. He glanced down at the one situated closest to an ornate chair in front of the window, reading the plaque beneath. The script was a series of interlocking discs engraved at seemingly random intervals across the glossy surface.

“Salatryx! Is that you?” A high pitched, disembodied voice came from nowhere in particular, “Hold on, I’m just straightening my robes. Awful things.” Felrak raised an eyebrow, listening to the thud of footsteps descending a staircase hidden from view. Suddenly, “AH!”

A door concealed in the cream plastered wall burst open, and a diminutive, stocky lizard burst forward, “Here we are then! Ah yes, here we all are! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again Salatryx, you have a fine family indeed. It seems not but a day’s passed since I signed little Frestwyx’s hatching records.”

The Magistrate wore wire spectacles which nearly flew from the end of his snout as he scampered up to Frestwyx, giving the young lizard’s head a cheerful tousle. “Etrexia, you are, as ever, a stunning example of reptilian beauty.” He readjusted the box-like purple hat perched on his head.

Etrexia rolled her eyes, prompting Salatryx to quickly divert the Magistrate’s attention, “And the purpose of our visit; our guest. Goes by the name of Wide-eyes, he does.”

“Ahhhh, Wide-eyes… An appropriate name to say the least!” The Magistrate adjusted his glasses, peering over at Felrak then stepping forward with palm outstretched. Felrak lowered his hood, revealing the full extent of his alien features. The others in the room could not help but stare at the unique facial arrangement, the elongated cranium and the protruding temples from where the Argosian’s dark green eyes looked back at them. Felrak raised his palm in return, pressing it against the Magistrate’s.

“Forgive me, Wide-eyes. I am Bhorreth Irathelet Freyyn, Sook-Magistrate of this fine town, Sandastrom.”  Felrak remained silent as the Magistrate stepped back again, “Such an interesting specimen you are. Your scales, your claws… Not unlike ours, I’d say. But the eyes, and lack of a tail. Hmmm, yes, no tail. Reminds me of them, it does.”

Felrak stood, nonplussed. An uneasiness began to creep its way through him.

“Do you speak, Wide-eyes? Tell me, where have you come from?”

“Yes, uh, sir.” Felrak looked back to Salatryx, who gave an encouraging smile, “I hail from the far…” Mentally he flipped a coin, “South.”

“The southern lands?” Freyyn pondered Felrak’s words, “Why, then you must know of them. You must have seen them.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Felrak’s curiosity got the better of him, “who are ‘they’?”

It was at that moment the horns sounded. A low, constant blast from the rooftop parapet rang through the air. It was soon joined by others, minor differences in tone creating a haunting harmony that resonated through Sandastrom’s every alley. Fear struck the Magistrate. Frestwyx ran to Etrexia’s outstretched arms, and she held him tight. Salatryx, colour drained from his face, sprung up on his toes as if listening for a far away predator.

A guard from outside crashed his way through the heavy doors, “The beacons. They’re lit! They march from Breldrendar!”

Freyyn absorbed the guard’s words, turning back to Felrak with the whites of his eyes showing. Felrak could see no fear now. A steely determination had replaced it. The lightning shock of apprehension had flashed a course through the elder lizard, and now he was ready. Freyyn spoke one word in a deep, hate-filled husk, “Mammals.”

She swung her legs out one more time and hopped down from the fence. There was a soft crunch as her boots impacted the snow. The figure drew closer, and she began to make out the details of his face through the thick flakes that steadily fell. The reptilian skinned man was alien to her at first. Her eyes narrowed as he came into focus. Then, in an instant, “FELRA-aheherrm!” It was all she could do to stop from launching herself forward, “I mean, Captain Vordenna, sir.” She caught herself, straightened up and tried hard to contain her grin. Felrak’s pointed teeth gleamed in response. While yellowed somewhat in contrast to the surrounding snow, the Argosian’s well practiced smile conveyed just as much delight as that of the young Efrosian woman stood before him.

“At ease, Lieutenant Theb.” He came to a stop a few paces in front of her, but she soon closed the gap, leaping forward and hugging Felrak tightly. 

“They said it’d be someone from the Ahwhanee… I had no idea it’d be you. I had no idea you were even a Captain now!” She released him and looked down at Felrak who, typically of an Argosian, stood a little shorter.   

“So, Captain Ra-Havreii has neglected to pass on the news.” Felrak stepped back and his smile grew wry.

Sreyler rolled her eyes, “If Uncle Xin moved back to Efrosia tomorrow I doubt we’d find out about it til next year.” 

Felrak shrugged, “His loss. Now, let’s go inside. I’m freezing.”

***

The horns sounded that hollow, mournful note once more. Again, Freyyn’s tongue darted in and out of his mouth as if tasting the apprehension in the air, “Salatryx, Etrexia, it is time.” As he spoke, an armoured guard descended the stairs from the room above the Magistrate’s chamber. Over a pair of burly arms was draped a padded gambeson, deep purple in colour and lined with a luxuriant white fur. The guard held out the heavily quilted jacket and wordlessly eased it over Freyyn’s shoulders as the diminutive leader continued to speak, “Take Frestwyxx home, arm yourselves and join your nearest column.” 

“Aye, m’lord.” The two spoke in unison. Before they turned to leave, both met Felrak’s eyes with a lingering, almost apologetic glance. Their eyes then turned to the floor as they hurried away, Etrexia’s hand firmly clasped around her son’s. The guard, the magistrate and the alien were now all who remained in the wide chamber.

“You seem able bodied, Wide-eyes,” Freyyn scanned Felrak from head to toe, “and your scales tell the story of someone wise.” 

“Oh?” Felrak raised an eyebrow at the Magistrate’s apparent insight.

“Ha! Yes,” Freyyn laughed, “The furrows on your brow. A thinking lizard, you are!” He tapped a finger against his temple.

“You seem most intuitive yourself… M’lord.” 

“We need thinking lizards, Wide-eyes. Yes! Come. You can help us drive them back, the dirty stinking beasts. Did you know they give birth to live young? Live, Wide-eyes. Kicking and screaming. Quite simply malevolent, all of them.”

“I’m not sure what you’ve described could be called ‘malevolent’ m’lord,” Felrak trod as carefully as his ethics would allow him, “as opposed to a reproductive function derived from a different to ours.” He paused, sensing the Magistrate’s confusion, before quickly adding, “I’d also question my own usefulness to you in any combat operation you have planned.”

“Then I suppose you’d say their atrocities are the result of a different evolutionary path, too? Hmm?”

Felrak remained silent.

Freyyn pressed, “For someone from the southern lands, why is it that you harbour so little resentment towards the mammals?”

“They’ve done nothing to me.”

“They slaughter your people without mercy or reason, and you call it nothing?”   

Felrak scrambled, “I have been away from my home for some time, m’lord. I myself have no reason to hate the mammals.”

“Because you’ve never been to the southern lands.” Freyyn’s tone shed its whimsical notes and cut through Felrak like a knife, “And you take me for a fool.”

“M-lord, let me explain-”

“Explain these.” Freyyn cut him off, reaching into a deep pocket of his robe and producing Felrak’s tricorder in one hand and his combadge in the other. He was met with nothing but a stunned silence from the increasingly desperate Argosian.

A frustrated frown flashed across the Magistrate’s face. Freyyn held the tricorder up, studying the blinking patterns of each status light. He pulled it open, turning the device over in his hands. His attention refocused on Felrak as, once again, his examination of the otherworldly technology failed to yield anything of note. With the device now open, he noticed that the wide-eyed lizard in front of him had begun to focus intently on the bleeping, flashing displays. Felrak could barely force himself to tear his eyes away from the data, catching only glimpses of surrounding atmospheric conditions, life signs, and their current proximity to the omega molecule. 

Freyyn flipped the tricorder around, giving Felrak a clear view of the display, “This has meaning to you, yet it is like nothing I have seen before. This is of some sophistication, some enchantment of which I have never seen in all the lands of Gürm. Now tell me, Wide-eyes, because I don’t have much time. What is this contraption? What is it for? And what are you?”

Felrak looked to the floor, then back up to meet Freyyn’s inquisitive gaze, “Please accept my apologies, Magistrate Freyyn. I’m-”

All geniality that had been present in Freyyn’s voice had now gone, replaced with a cold intensity, “Dispense with the pleasantries.”

Felrak took a deep breath, “I’m a traveler… An explorer. From the stars. I came here on a starship. There’s something on this planet. Something very dangerous, with the potential to harm all life here and beyond. I need to find it before I can leave this place.”

Freyyn’s eyes stared intently, unblinking as he processed what Felrak conveyed. “From the stars…” he muttered to himself. He hefted the tricorder and combadge in his hand, weighing the ramifications in his mind, “The Nurnalest…” 

“I beg your pardon, Magistrate?”

“Oh…” The smile returned to Freyyn’s face, “Unimportant.” He reached out, offering the items back to Felrak, “You’re telling the truth, I can see this much Wide-eyes. I don’t claim knowledge of the stars, but I have always known there must be those out there like you. It’s what our own wise ones would call, a mathematical certainty.”

Relief was evident in Felrak’s eyes as he received the items from Freyyn. He was taken aback by the Magistrate’s acceptance, “You’ve considered the existence of extraterrestrial life?”

“Yes, quite extensively, I might add.” Freyyn mused, “Alas, you’ve come at quite the inopportune moment. I should imagine some of the information you could divulge to us would be of intense interest. But now is not the time. Come, Wide-eyes, a stout fellow such as yourself perhaps could be of some assistance!” He clapped Felrak on the back and gestured to the guard, “With a star traveller amongst us, we’ll surely show these wretched fiends a thing or two.” The guard re-entered the room with another quilted tunic, much like the one worn by Freyyn but of a deep green weave. “You’ll be glad of this when the arrows start flying,” Freyyn assured, “Now let’s get going, Wide-eyes. We must prepare!”

***

As the sun continued its rising path through a cloudless sky, Sandastrom erupted into furious activity. Citizens milled this way and that in what would have appeared a chaotic milieu to the unknowing eye. Upon closer inspection, it would have been apparent that each citizen followed a well drilled procedure, reporting to designated positions as the town hunkered down before the onslaught. Stone towers, washed a sandy colour by the noonday light, were manned along with perimeter defences and signal points along the great north battlements. Teams assembled at balistraria, spaced at regular intervals throughout ramparts and thick curtain walls that surrounded the inner streets. Long tapers put light to fires beneath cauldrons of noxious fluid, steam from which dissipated through the dry winter’s air. 

By the riverbank, Gürm pulled on ropes around which they could barely fit their clawed hands. Nine great hangars, the shadows of their brickwork structures reaching across the water, began to grind open. Metallic scraping rang out all around as pulleys bifurcated the steel rooftops, dragging each gigantic plate apart to reveal the machines within. They floated up, buoyant, held back from the air only by the heavy chains fastening them to the concrete floor. One by one, the metal holding pins were hammered away. The sound of rhythmic clanking deafened those who looked on until, at last, the vast gas-filled canvas obelisks lifted themselves up and away from their earthen beds.  

Felrak stood next to Freyyn on the observation platform of Airship Three. The goggles adorning the Magistrates’ face were tinted black, causing him to appear faintly maniacal as he strained to make himself heard over the whirring hum of the propeller blades, “We’d have given you a pair too, Wide-eyes, but…” He trailed off, simply waving a hand towards Felrak’s face. The Argosan ignored him, looking down towards the tricorder. Freyyn took a bearing from a compass mounted on the railing in front, then yelled into the speaking tube, “TWO DEGREES MERIDIAL”.  

Airship Three was the first to pull away. It continued to rise, the giant cigar shaped structure pivoting its nose towards the hills of the Yonder Weiyld. Slowly, eight more of the lumbering aerial giants followed. Their grey silhouettes blotted out the sun as slowly but surely they drove themselves forward on the back of a westerly wind. 

“A spectacular sight, M’lord,” Felrak allowed himself a satisfied smile. The view was indeed impressive from his vantage point. The river flowed away from the hangar buildings, meandering through foothills and over the horizon. Clumps of trees huddled amongst grazing pastures which gave way to dense forested slopes, the foliage coloured in a honeyed crisp of autumnal oranges. Felrak’s eyes were fixed on something else, however. On his tricorder screen, the proximity meter chirped. An illuminated LCARS panel blinked, indicating their distance from the omega molecule. It began to tick down. 

He pressed the combadge in his pocket, “Vordenna to Ahwahnee, commencing first report.”

Fronds and creeping ferns twined their way up the curved wall of the conference room. Their leaves meshed together in a web of green, sprouted from a band of nutrient substrate that underlined the trellis to which they clung. This flash of nature was one of many pockets of vegetation that ran throughout the Ahwahnee. From Argosian yerlenn vines to the conical cacti of Klevak IV, radiant petals, tubers and all manner of kaleidoscopic fauna found its home within the ship. It was commonly understood by the entire crew that, in addition to their regular duties, they would be responsible for the upkeep of this plant life that extended through the corridors, lounges and meeting rooms. A particular quirk of life aboard the Ahwahnee; this obligation was often met with puzzlement and some doubt from new transfers. For most however, it wasn’t long before they got used to how things were done while serving under Captain Vordenna.

“They remind him of home,” Sreyler’s elbow rested on the table, her chin nestled in her palm. Her back to the starry viewport behind, she stared absent mindedly towards the mat of leaves that climbed the wall.

“What?” Delfino, seated opposite, shot a quizzical glance towards the Efrosian.

“Oh… The plants.” Sreyler blinked, realising she’d spoken out loud, “I guess I never really thought about why the Captain liked them this way. Other than them looking nice.”

Delfino’s attention returned to her PADD, “Always figured it was an Argosian thing.”

Lieutenant Steldon chimed in, “There’s a catalogue of them in the Science computer,” his blue eyes gleamed in earnest, “actually, very few of the Ahwahnee’s plant species originate from Argosia.”

Delfino turned to him, smiling politely, “It’s less about where they’re from. More that the Argosians have deep respect for the natural world throughout the galaxy. They have a symbiotic relationship with several species of flora native to their homeworld.”

“I… Didn’t know that.” Steldon shifted uncomfortably.

“Understandable. There aren’t many of them around, let alone in Starfleet. I wouldn’t have known myself if it wasn’t for the Captain.”

Steldon’s pause for thought was interrupted by the whooshing of the conference room doors. Tursk marched in, followed by Lieutenant Commander Alex Lupulo. All eyes were immediately trained on the latter.

“You’re back early,” Sreyler couldn’t resist the outburst, “environmental controls in your quarters working overtime to cool down that head of yours.”

“Someone’s gotta fix this mess,” Lupulo shot back.

“Enough!” Tursk snarled as he took his seat, “What have we got?”

“We managed to get a big enough window in the ionising radiation to conduct a topographical scan,” Steldon spoke up, “based on the Captain’s current movements we picked up from his tricorder, he’s in some kind of vehicle traveling northwest across this mountain chain.” The blonde haired Chief Science Officer tapped a few commands into the LCARS panel on the table, bringing up a map on the screen behind Tursk.

“What’s that mass he’s heading towards?” asked Lupulo.

Steldon drew in a breath, “That’s our biggest concern. As far as we can tell, it’s a large group of humanoids moving in groups. Like soldiers in formation. We’ve got no idea why he’s moving that way.”

“Gürm?” It was Delfino’s turn to query.

“Negative. Something else. Similar sized but mammalian heat signatures.”

Sreyler couldn’t believe her eyes, “The subspace flux coming out of there is off the charts! These guys are supposed to be pre-warp?”

Steldon rubbed his temple, “We can’t figure that out, either. The closest comparative waveforms we have make it look like a singularity. But the epicenter is moving along with that  It…”

“Doesn’t make any sense.” Lupulo finished off the sentence, and the room fell silent.

The extent of Tursk’s exasperation was partially hidden from the others, with his chair tilted towards the screen. It was a wretched feeling. Yet he was proud of the crew, most of them, for executing their duty in good faith and entirely in the dark. The Captain’s report, known only to him, had told of the army. That much Tursk could have dealt with. There was another detail, though, that caused a gaping pit to open up in his stomach as he recalled Vordenna’s hurried message; the transponder was gone.

Tursk turned in his chair, banishing the foreboding from his eyes, “We need a way to get him out, when the time comes.”

Lupulo leapt in, as if on cue, “When the time comes for what? You’re saying there was no plan to get the Captain out before he beamed down?”

“Can you just work with us for one damned minute?” Sreyler’s face darkened and her voice wavered, “You’re fresh out of confinement, and you’re already doing your best to get your ass thrown in the brig. Do you think we’re idiots? We all know there’s something weird going on. It’s top secret, it’s classified. There’s some stuff we don’t know, and there’s some stuff they know.” She pointed at Tursk, then made a sweeping motion with her hands, “Prime Directive, Starfleet regulations, they’re getting thrown out the airlock right now. Fine. Whatever. But this is the Captain, Lup. You think he’s just down there tearing up some pre-warp civilisation because he feels like it? The guy that diverted the ship to get medical attention for an ilex beast?” Sreyler had unconsciously stood, “We all get this, Lup. We just want the Captain back, to get this thing resolved and to get out of here. When are you going to get on the same page and work with us?” She sat down, tucking the hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

There was more silence as Lupulo scratched at his stubbled chin. The others merely looked on in dismay.

“Circumstances have changed.” Tursk eventually grumbled, “We need a way to get him back to the ship. What are our options?”

“I could take a shuttlecraft down,” Delfino suggested, “run a scan for the Captain’s biosignature once I’m through the atmosphere.”

Steldon was quick to the counterpoint, “A shuttle’s hull density won’t absorb enough of that ionising radiation. Shields would be disrupted too. You wouldn’t make it through without severe burns.”

Tursk grumbled, “What about the transporters? Can we modify the targeting sensors to compensate for the radiation interference?”

“If we tighten the transporter beam’s resonance frequency we might have a shot at hitting the right coordinates on beam-in,” Sreyler offered.

“Yeah,” Steldon ran with it, “I’ve gotten some positive results from playing around with the sensor palette’s acuity band. A little more time and I might be able to punch through.”

Tursk pushed his chair back from the table, “Alright, you two get on that from the bridge. I’m going to see if I can boost the beam output directly from transporter room one. Dismissed.”

***

Felrak’s hand shook. The moss and lichens that sprouted near the back of his wrists, normally a blueish green, had faded almost to a dull grey. He frowned and a wave of fatigue swept over him. Two days had passed, yet it had come more quickly than he had anticipated. It could have been the radiation, an undetected toxic compound, an endemic disease; it didn’t matter. He gripped the rail that lined the edge of the airship’s control room, steadying himself.

“You look tired, Wide-eyes,” the Magistrate approached with concern in his voice.

“No reason for concern, M’Lord,” Felrak lied, forcing a smile. The welcoming vines of the orbosh tree flashed through his mind and he longed for their sustenance.

“Here,” the Magistrate ushered him over to a nearby bench, “sit.” He unclipped a canteen from his belt and offered it to Felrak, “Drink.”

The liquid trickling down his throat was thick and sweet. It reminded Felrak of a fruit syrup, exploding with a sour punch from the tip of his tongue to what felt like the base of his brain. He winced and his eyes began to water. A wave of energy coursed through him. He felt his heart begin to thud faster.

“This is… Quite something,” Felrak blinked.

“Hah! Isn’t it?!” the Magistrate enthused, “You’ll need it, Wide-eyes, we’ll be upon them soon.”

“Ah yes. The mammals.”

“Wretched beasts,” the Magistrate’s smile evaporated, “they shall be eradicated in due course.”

“Eradication?” Felrak almost winced at the word, “A simple military victory will not suffice?”

Freyyn sighed, “If only it were simple…” the Magistrate trailed off for a moment, before his eyes suddenly locked onto Felrak’s, “Wide-eyes, I fear a terrible development has taken place.”

The industrial chop and rumble of the airship’s rotors filled both of their ears. It was quite the achievement, Felrak mused, for species that seemed not to have fully embraced the deadly temptation of crude oil. The steam emissions indicated to him the presence of coal, and the helium for the vast balloon above them could only have been refined from natural gas deposits. Argosia had been fortunate enough to avoid the planetary conflict that so often accompanied such innovation. He had studied enough of Earth’s history, however, to know that Gorman III had potentially reached its own bloody inflection point.

“Speak, M’Lord,” Felrek pushed.

The Magistrate turned away, casting a heavy gaze out over the railing and into the swirling clouds. He took a breath, “Not long before your arrival. There were reports from our watchers,” still he struggled to verbalise, “Mountains… Incinerated. Forests in flames. The sea, evaporated. It was said to be them, Wide-eyes, the mammals. If they can wield this kind of power, then truly  we are lost. If this is what we are sailing towards, what is to become of us? Sandastrom? My people?”

It was Felrak’s turn to struggle for words. There were some situations, he thought to himself, in which silence was far more desirable. He knew the Magistrate’s fear, and yet there was no way he could bring himself to console an individual who not two minutes ago had advocated genocide. He carefully weighed what he was about to say, then said it, “The galaxy I- we– come from is made up of many different species. We are able to travel between the stars, faster than light itself. We live together in peace, we share in each others’ cultures and we celebrate the diversity that makes each member of our galactic Federation unique. There have always been external threats, of course, but for all the worlds that make up our government, war is a thing of the past. My planet was lucky, M’Lord, but for many it took decades, if not centuries of war before they emerged into new societies. Before they were ready to reach beyond everything they’d ever known. For the unluckiest ones, their wars were over in mere hours. Weapons of colossal destructive power decimated the populations of entire planets. Still, they were able to rebuild. Their philosophies and values became quite different to what had gone before. They harnessed technology to avoid such destruction again and in doing so, they became ready to join the interstellar community.”

Freyyn looked to Felrak again, “A positive future indeed. Alas, it appears I was hatched in less auspicious times. Why then, Wide-eyes, do you choose to concern yourself with an undeveloped word such as this?”

“There is a threat,” Felrak confided, “and I fear it is the same one that concerns you and your people.”

“You seek to destroy it too?”

“This is power beyond what planetary civilisations could hope to wield against each other. It has the potential to annihilate entire regions of space should it destabilise. We have detected it here, and it’s unstable.” Felrak leaned forward on the bench, hands clasped, “In normal circumstances, I would never be here M’Lord. My… People have a guiding principle we hold dear. We are not to interfere in the development of civilisations who do not yet have the ability to travel between stars.”

Freyyn slowly nodded. His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the rarefied air, “But you must stop this weapon. That supersedes your principles.”

“Yes, M’Lord.”

“You walk a brave path, Wide-eyes.” Freyyn looked to the platform deck, drawing his fur lined coat up around his scaled neck, “Your equipment, your abilities, to us these seem like the ways of gods. Yet you feel a responsibility towards us lesser beings.”

“We’re not gods,” Felrak said quickly, “we’re just like you. We’re just on another part of the road.”

Freyyn placed a claw on Felrak’s shoulder, “Then if I shall not live to see the stars, I shall at least play my part to see that my ancestors make it further down the road.” Sharp incisors gleamed  through the lizard’s lips. Felrak smiled back.

The frantic ringing of a hand bell cut across them, followed by a long bellow, “Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

The Magistrate jumped up, bounding down the length of the airship’s observation platform towards the forecastle. Felrak followed at a cautiously slower pace. The forward section of the deck was raised, and as he climbed up the steps towards it he spotted Freyyn peering through an ornate spyglass to the ground below. The lookout who had raised the alarm stood next to him, relaying information to the cockpit through what looked like a sort of brass voicepipe, “We’ve sighted the enemy,” he said as Felrak approached.

“Strange…” The Magistrate mused, “It looks like an outrider. Far ahead of the main force. Must be a scout…” He stepped back, lowering the spyglass, “We must deploy ground troops before we’re within range, give the signal.”

The lookout took off back down to the main deck. In seconds, a piercing horn blared out through the air and across the entire formation. One by one, each of the nine airship horns sounded; a wailing war cry that drilled into Felrak’s bones. He felt a shudder, and his stomach lurched out from under him. They were descending fast.

“Take a look at this Wide-eyes,” Freyyn was calm, “the fellow down there, he’s another strange one. Never seen anything like it.”

Felrak’s heart fell out of his chest. He snatched the spyglass from Freyyn and, leaning out over the balustrade, he fixed the tiny dot in his sights. He brought the eyepiece up to his face, focusing first on the massed army on the horizon that kicked dust into the air. He tracked down what must have been fifty kilometres until the figure came into focus.

Mounted on a burden beast, coarse hair billowing behind him as he drove the animal forward, rode Commander Tursk.

Sreyler slammed a fist down on the arm of the command chair. Her face flushed a dark blue and her brow contorted into a scowl, “It’s been two days, Lup. We’ve got nothing to show for it. Every kind of scan frequency, transporter modification… Razor blizzards, we’ve even tried the blasted deflector. We don’t even know what they’re down there for. We don’t even know they want to come back.”

Delfino shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She made what felt like the millionth minor course correction suggested by the computer. Periodic lulls and surges in the ionising radiation were theoretically possible to predict. However, even when employing every available memory allocation unit, the Ahwahnee’s computer was unable to model exactly where the lulls would occur fast enough for Delfino to make use of them. Each time the ship was in position to make a penetrating scan, the opportunity slipped away into a radioactive soup of incoherent data. She gritted her teeth, rubbed her sunken eyes, and tried again.

Lupulo leaned over from the first officer’s seat, “Captain, a word?” His eyes darted over in the direction of the ready room. Nonplussed for a second, her own eyes widened a fraction as she caught on, “Sure.”

It was the first time either of them had set foot in the room since Vordenna’s disappearance. As she entered, Sreyler realised too that it would be the first time they had seen it empty. She hesitated in front of his desk. The chair was still angled to the side, as if the Captain had simply returned to his quarters for a rest.

“Go on, sit,” Lupulo urged, waving a thin arm over to the chair.

“I dunno, Lup,” Sreyler looked back at him over her shoulder, “this one’s harder than the big chair.”

“You’re the Captain. Now that’s your desk, too.”

“I don’t want to. It feels like acceptance. Like we know he’s not coming.”

“Hey listen,” the time for encouragement was over and the urgency in his voice broke through, “you might be next up in the chain of command, but I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have. A word of advice, and I’m speaking as your XO now so it’s my damned job; keep your cool.”

Sreyler bit her bottom lip and looked to the ceiling. She became aware that her hands had balled into fists again, and she flexed them a few times, “Alright,” she puffed out her cheeks, “alright alright alright alright.” She looked him dead in the eye, “I’m good.”

“We can’t stay here forever,” Lupulo got back to business, “Starfleet’s going to want to know why it took us so long to report what’s happened.”

Sreyler was silent. Her racing thoughts gave way to grim resignation.

“I want to protect them too,” he nudged, “but it’s keeping secrets that’s got us into this mess. It’s not gonna get us out.”

“Alright,” like calm skies after a storm, her eyes met his with a calm resolve, “24 hours.”

***

The jolt shot through Felrak as the airship’s wide steel gangplank hit the ground. The clanking of unspooling chains tore through through the air around him. Each vessel now hovered only a metre from the ground in a rough arrow formation. Felrak steadied himself as the deck pitched forwards, and a tremendous rumble rose from beneath his feet. He ran to the side, craning his head out over the railing in an attempt to find the source of the noise. Plumes of dust billowed up in a slow-motion eruption, and Felrak sensed the vibrations fall into unmistakable rhythm of hooves. Riding forth from the mouth of each airship on burden beasts, nine wide columns of war riders thundered towards the massed troops on the horizon. Their long spears, pointed towards the sky like a forest of Argosian bamboo, rose and fell as their steeds carried them towards their fates.

“I’ve always preferred to command from the ground,” Freyyn’s lilting voice came from behind. Felrak turned, noticing two brown leather saddles slung over the lizard’s shoulders. The Magistrate’s black eyes blinked slowly, “will you be joining me, Wide-eyes? Then again, this is not your fight.”

“That… Mammal,” Felrak’s thoughts turned to Tursk, “I know him. He’s from my starship.”

“Most intriguing!” Freyyn’s was forced to raise his voice above the growing cacophony, “I would have loved to meet him. Alas, my duties lie elsewhere…” He held out a saddle, “Perhaps such a mode of transport might be too quaint for a starship captain?”

“I never said I was-” A twinkle in Freyyn’s eye cut Felrak short.

“I know the look of a commander who fears for his people,” Freyyn made a wistful sort of smile. Through it, shone a lifetime of decisions, triumphs and regrets.

A wave of fatigue crashed over Felrak. It was if something hung over him, dragging his willpower through the top of his skull and out across the vast plain beyond. He looked down at his hands. The lichen was a dull grey now. The moss, brown and lifeless between the faded colours of his scales. He fought it. Tursk was here now, and the Ahwahnee. Theb was in command up there; the one he’d plucked from Efrosia all those years ago. He’d seen what she could do. Now where would she go? Perhaps this was how his own parents had felt? He shook his head, pushing himself off the railings, holding out an arm to receive the saddle, “My world does have similar animals, yes.” Felrak copied the Magistrate, draping it over his shoulder, “Although, it is some time since I’ve used them for transport…”

“Then let’s get going,” Freyyn concluded, “you’ll pick it back up in no time.”

“Thank you, M’Lord.”

The clank of their boots against metal steps signaled their descent to the lower levels, “Perhaps the timing of our meeting was fortuitous indeed, Captain.” They stepped through to the burden beast stables.

“Oh?” Felrak began to fasten the saddle to the animal beside Freyyn’s.

“At least now your interference in our development will be kept to a minimum.” Freyyn heaved himself up onto the back of the burly, horned quadruped.

Felrak frowned, “What makes you so sure?”

Clouds, black and swirling like a boiling malevolent whirlpool had begun to converge overhead. What had been fair skies not thirty minutes prior now darkened into overcast gloom. Sheet lightning had begun to spring from cloud to cloud at the apex of the writhing celestial mass. A muted rolling peal thundered across the plain.

“The weapon you seek,” Freyyn pointed ahead and upwards, “It’s here.”

Squinting, she held the hyperspanner between her thumb and forefinger. The red laser sight guided her movements. In her other hand, she steadied the nillimite coil, adjusting the spanner a fraction at a time until the spring-like metallic thread maintained a consistent diameter of 500 microns. It was the last part of the warp matrix compositor she could affix by hand. 

“Computer, activate nanobots and run programme Theb nine-nine B,” she placed the spanner back down on the table. From a small cubic containment unit, thousands of the tiny machines swarmed up. Each one not much bigger than a Buckminster fullerene, they behaved like a black cloud of smoke. Curiously to the casual observer, however, they held themselves together in a regular shape. Each bot propelled itself towards the compositor housing, their microscopic replicator nodes activating. Molecule by molecule, they spun their carbon nanofibre web. Individually, with each strand barely three atoms wide, the polytrinic alloy could barely handle the load of a simple EPS circuit. When laced across the housing in this manner, however, electroplasma dissipation could take place across its entire surface. In the event of a power surge, excess energy could be siphoned off as required. The swarm of specks twisted and spun around the silvery component surface until they had fully laid their trail. They then returned, as quickly as they’d come, to the cube.

A soft round of applause went up from the small crowd that had gathered. Professor Xel’bet Wredd, the tall, wispy-haired Dean of warp engineering, strode through towards Sreyler, “Are you gonna let someone else win the innovation price this year? Oh, polytrinic alloy? Guess not.”

Sreyler giggled, “Yeah. Thanks Borg!”

“Hmm,” Wredd frowned, considering his next words. The furrows and creases in his light blue skin had only grown deeper from years of poring over the literature. From Cochrane to Layacx, he’d seen it all. The forefront of warp theory was his comfort zone, but he was getting old. Something like this; an auto-regenerating alloy… He just hadn’t thought to look.

”You know Sreyler, there’s a faculty position open. We’d- I’d love to have someone like you take the post. Zhaman’ti needs this kind of thinking.”

“Oh,” Sreyler stopped fiddling with the hyperspanner, “thank you, Professor. I, ah, don’t know what to say.” 

Felrak stepped forward. The dark overcoat that had shielded him from the biting Efrosian wind draped down past his knees. It hung open, partially obscuring his uniform, “Trying to steal my Chief Engineer, Professor?”

Wredd turned, “Aha, my apologies, Captain. Can you really blame me?”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Felrak’s eyes glinted as he smiled, “Although Zhaman’ti has its appeal.” He looked towards Sreyler, “The ice sculptures are really quite something.”

Sreyler’s expression cycled from confusion, to disbelief, then back again, “Wait, Chief Engineer? I mean, I had an idea you wanted me on the crew, but-”

“Only if you want the job,” Felrak grinned.

Her eyes nearly fell out of her head, “Uhhhh, do I at least get to go to the prizegiving?”

“Of course, I believe it’s tomorrow? The Ahwahnee’s in orbit for two days. Enough time to get your affairs in order, I think.” 

“Then I graciously accept, sir,” her sarcastic seriousness was followed by an over-exaggerated nod.

Felrak rolled his eyes, turning to Wredd, “I’m doing you a favour.”

“Ah, Starfleet,” Wredd took on an air of whimsy, “New life, new civilisations. Truly, a game for the young.”

“Really?” Felrak left it at that, “Lieutenant I’d like you to meet the senior staff, if you have a minute to spare?”

“Sure do, sir.”

“Excellent. Vordenna to Ahwahnee, two to beam up.”

“Send me data!” Wredd called. Sreyler’s laughter faded into the cool blue of the transporter beam.  

The alarm sounded frantic. Delfino, having punched in what felt like (and quite possibly was) the thousandth set of coordinates, was abruptly shaken from her mental glaze. It took a few seconds for her to interpret the readings, and another few to verbalise what she saw in front of her.

“Captain,” her bob of black hair whipped out as she spun around, “sensors show a massive subspace resonance buildup… It’s coming from the planet’s surface.”

Sreyler shot bolt upright, “Subspace resonance? There’s nothing on a pre-warp planet that could generate anything close to that.”

Lupulo strode around the railing from tactical, “Is it possible the ionising radiation is causing some kind of sensor error?”

“No sir,” Delfino replied quickly, “I’ve done my best to isolate from the interference. It’s unmistakable. That’s subspace distortion. Hold on, the resonance wave amplitude just spiked. It’s massive.”

Sreyler leapt up, joining Lupulo at the conn. Seeing the readings for herself, her heart skipped a beat, “That’s the largest subspace distortion I’ve ever seen.” She leaned in, bringing up the waveform on the control readout, “I’ve read about this before…”

“Read about what?” Lupulo’s usual deadpan delivery cracked at the edges.

Sreyler turned, looking back towards the master systems display, then to the deck. She folded her arms, taking a few steps towards the centre chair.

Another series of angry chitters sounded from the conn. Delfino silenced it, “Subspace in the vicinity is completely destabilising. If these waveforms get any bigger, the spacetime continuum is going to rip itself apart. Captain, I don’t think the warp engines can generate a stable field in these conditions. We’re stuck here.”

“There’s gonna be a shockwave,” Lupulo realised out loud, “Delfino can you get us out of range at impulse?”

“There’s no moving out of range of an omega shockwave,” Sreyler said. Now calm, she turned to face them again, “When that goes, half the sector goes with it. And all life on Gorman III.”

“Omega?” Lupulo looked at her as if she was speaking Klingon.

“Always thought it was just a rumour,” she laughed to herself, “I’ll tell ya later.”

“Sreyler what the hell-”

“No. Sit down, Lup,” she gripped the arms of the command chair after following her own instructions, “All hands, this is Captain Theb.”

***

The black clouds continued to converge, writhing and twisting around a focal point above the mammal army. The sky had darkened further into a foreboding dusk, illuminated by lightning flashes that grew more frequent. Felrak and Freyyn rode side by side. The hooves of their burden beasts beat down hard against dry earth pocked and trampled under a thousand war riders hurtling towards the enemy. The mammals had sighted them, hastily moving to reposition their troops and protect their flank.

A fierce wind whipped out as the reptiles gained ground. The burden beasts’ long nape hair flattened as they charged forward, and the riders instinctively lowered their heads to maintain speed.

“We’ve got the element of surprise, Wide-eyes!” Freyyn bellowed across to Felrak over the sound of thundering hooves, “We’ll take their flank!”

Felrak grunted, knuckles white from his grip on the reins. From an inner pocket of his cloak, the tricorder emitted a loud bleeping. He reached for it, sliding sideways as the burden beast broke its stride over a furrow in the ground.

“Steady, Wide-eyes!” Felrak heard from his left.

He flipped the tricorder open. Sure enough, the omega particle’s signature appeared dead ahead and closing. The subspace distortion readings were beyond the handheld device’s ability to measure. Instead of attempting, it flashed a deep crimson rectangle with a single word: Warning. A yellow dot began to move in on their position. Pocketing the tricorder, he craned his head to look behind. A solitary rider steadily approached. Like theirs, his head bowed against the wind, but this figure was nothing like those who rode ahead of him. His teeth were gritted, the curls in his beard flattened against his collar, and his hair blew out wildly behind him.

“Tursk!” Felrak roared despite being too far for the Tellarite to hear. A roll of thunder boomed over him as if to confirm this. Tursk raised a hand in response, driving the burden beast forward at a furious pace.

Freyyn turned too, “Your soldier should move quickly, lest one of mine thinks he’s a mammal.”

“Hah, he is a mammal,” Felrak yelled, “one of the good ones!”

“I’ll trust your judgement then, Wide-eyes.”

“A wise choice!” Tursk’s gruff bark came within earshot, “It’s good to see you, Captain.” He drew alongside Freyyn and Felrak, “They have the omega molecule.”

“They have it? How?” Was all Felrak could splutter.

“Don’t know. The signature’s moving with them. Shadowed them for two days,” Tursk’s voice came and went with the wind, “guess I got luckier with the transporter. Was going to check out their camp tonight, then you guys showed up.”

“Good thing we did,” called Freyyn, “those creatures would have devoured you on sight!”

“Oh, I wasn’t too worried,” Tursk shot back, pulling closer to Felrak. His brown coat billowed as he reached inside, presenting a type-2 phaser. He reached across, handing it to the Captain.

“Never have I been as glad to see one of these,” Felrak set the weapon to maximum stun.

Freyyn laughed, “He’s more prepared than you, Wide-eyes! I hope your weapons from the stars will be enough. Look.” He extended a claw ahead to where, in the centre of the massed mammal ranks, a wooden platform had been erected. It looked to be about the height of four people, allowing Felrak to glimpse it through the forest of lizard spears ahead. A lone soldier had climbed to the top, and he held above him a long staff. A halberd-like blade adorned its tip from which there emanated an intense glow. So bright was the light that Felrak was forced to look away as it bored into his retinas. The mammal grasped the lower end of the staff with both hands, raising it high above his head. Swirling clouds increased in speed and a lightning bolt sliced down through the air, connecting with the nascent orb. A colossal thunderclap followed, deafening them all.

“That staff!” Felrak cried, ears ringing, “I’ve seen another!”

***

Salatryx’s heart raced. On the second row of the column, he was close enough to feel his scales tingle with the static buildup before the lightning strike. His breath was loud in his ears, echoing against the metal helmet through which he peered. The light from the centre of the mammal army was only getting brighter. His burden beast whinnied.

“They harnessed the lightning?” An awed voice rose from the formation.

“Doesn’t matter!” The commander snapped, “We’re still going to smash them. GET READY!”

Salatryx gripped the staff tighter. They were almost upon the enemy. He flipped down the helmet visor and waited for the command.

“HUA-UH, HUA-UH, HUA-UH,” There came a steady, rhythmic chanting from the mammal lines. Positions fixed, the foot soldiers crouched behind body-length shields, their pikes raised and ready.

“Prepare for contact!” at last, the order came.

The front row of war riders lowered their lances, aiming them squarely towards the mammal front line some three hundred metres distant. The second row followed, then the third, then, “SOLDIER! LOWER YOUR LANCE!”

Salatryx looked up, eyes fixated on the metallic point of his weapon. It had seen countless battles. Passed down from generation to generation, it seemed only right to bring it with him rather than leave it mounted above the fireplace at home. There was a poetry to it. A weapon of old, dealing a crushing blow to the Gürm’s mortal foe. Now, he couldn’t look away. From the sharpened spike there came sparks, small at first. They were an electric blue, falling back harmlessly on the wind. They fell in groups, four, sixteen, then more than he could count. That was when the orb appeared. It was the size of an egg, hovering there above the point. Flares of light reached out from it like grasping fingers, as if it were absorbing its surroundings in order to grow. And grow it did. Before long it was the size of Salatryx’s head, then his torso, and then there was another almighty crack as if the planet itself had snapped in two. A stream of pure brilliance shot from the orb, arcing up over everything. It lit up the faces of the two armies from overhead. A second shot up simultaneously from the mammal on the platform, prompting cries of confusion and alarm. Salatryx finally tore his focus away from the orb. A giant, pulsating archway filled his entire field of vision. It towered over the battlefield; him at one end, the mammal at the other.

A pulse rippled out from where the two energy streams met. Salatryx followed it across the sky with his eyes. Nine balls of flame exploded in the distance. The airships; incinerated in an instant. He tried to move. He needed to move, but his burden beast had come to a halt and was now fixed to the ground. His own body, too, felt frozen in place

It was at that moment the war riders crashed into the mammals’ flank.

***

Freyyn’s large, dark eyes reflected the light that shone down from the arc above. It was as bright as the dawn and for a moment he was transfixed, “The Nurnalest…” he whispered.

“It’s a Tkon artefact,” Felrak yelled across to Tursk.

“HUA-UH, HUA-UH, HUA-UH.”

“Controlling omega? Didn’t think it was possible,” Tursk bellowed back.

“We’ve got to get to it!” Felrak’s eyes darted between the arc above and the war rider column, “They’ve engaged. Here’s our chance. Go!”

An orange beam shot from Tursk’s phaser, downing a mammal on the front line. Felrak followed suit, immediately opening up a break in the ranks as soldiers scattered. Though incapacitated, they fared much better than those facing down the war riders. Felrak heard the sickening crunch of hooves against shield and bone. He grimaced at the savagery of primitive warfare. Screams and guttural cries came from every direction as he and Tursk were enveloped in the fray. The mammals’ sweat was ascetic, mingling with the trampled ground. Tight-packed rows of soldiers were bowled over by charging burden beasts, though several well aimed pike thrusts toppled three lizard riders from their mounts. They were promptly set upon by the mammals who swung with clubs and hatchets. Reptillian blood spilled out across the cracked soil. Felrak looked down at the melee, at the crimson-soaked earth, and he felt a sudden dragging on his chest. Exhaustion washed over him, loosening his grip on the reins. He pitched forward as if caught in a breaking wave.

A cry from Tursk broke through the cacophony, “CAPTAIN!”

Felrak landed flat on his back. The lichens on his hand were drained of all colour, and he longed for the symbiotic embrace of the orbosh vines. A flash of fiery orange streaked past him, then another. A grunting face with a turned-up nose filled his vision, fangs bared, it snarled. With both hands, the porcine figure raised a spear high. The tip hung poised above Felrak’s torso. The Argosian’s eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Then, a thwack, a squeal and a thud. Felrak pulled his head up.

“I fear the worst is inevitable Wide-Eyes,” Freyyn sheathed a silver sabre, crouching down beside the fallen alien. He heaved Felrak up, pulling on a moss-covered arm now exposed by a torn cloak, “Our Nurnalest… Your omega… Our destruction is near.”

Lightning poured down from the sky. The solid mass of cloud was charred and dense, like a vast serpent it coiled ready to strike down at them. Thunderbolts intersected with the great arc, feeding it, surging a renewed intensity through the stark confluence of light. Tursk had continued on. There was a clear path towards the mammal on the raised platform. The mission was his now, and he could only hope that Freyyn had gotten Captain out of danger. Tursk kicked the burden beast, willing it to run. It whined in protest.

Just then, a blinding stroboscopic burst erupted from the platform. Tursk raised an arm to shield his eyes, and the rumbling started. He was too late. The ground shook beneath him. All around, the fires of battle were snuffed out by a gale of such immensity that metal shields were ripped from the arms of their bearers. Still, the mammal on the platform stood rooted in place. Yet larger tremors drilled through the earth. Tursk’s burden beast reared, and he held on without reason. His eyes watered and coarse particles of dust lashed his skin. Soon, he knew, the omega molecule would rend all of this apart at the subatomic level. There would be nothing left but dark matter scattered in the cosmic wind.

The armies began to flee in every direction. Knuckles white, it was all Tursk could to stay mounted, and his eyes were locked on the platform still. From his peripheral vision, however, something strange tore his attention away. Mammals and reptiles alike looked up into the maelstrom. Some tumbled over themselves as they ran, eyes cast skywards in confused panic. Tursk threw his own head back, and what he saw made the thumping of his Tellarite heart grow louder than the incredible roaring blare now permeating the battlefield.

Through the black clouds it came. A leviathan of grey metal, it peeked from the tempest from which it descended. A red glow followed, thrusting away the malevolent smoking vapours. Four blue threads cut through, their glow casting rolling shadows up against the boiling pitch above. Its belly plunged towards the ground, sparking thrusters flared left and right and blasting hot air below. The furious, resounding howl of propulsion systems shook the bones of any who remained. Barely concerned by the buffeting crosswinds, the vast hull hovered. Its ethereal form overshadowed all. Emblazoned boldly, the words bore down on them: U.S.S. Ahwahnee. NCC 71620.

A rush of calm overcame Tursk. The arcing omega energy continued to streak white hot between him and the ship above. Amongst the carnage of strewn weapons and scattered remnants of battle, he laughed.

***

Sparking ODN conduits, loose from their housings, came tumbling from between bulkheads. Inertial dampeners pushed their operating parameters, failing to prevent the jolting gravitational shear that made Sreyler feel like she’d left her stomach in orbit. Burning circuit residue had left a sooty streak across her cheek. She looked across to Lupulo who held on tight to the First Officer’s chair. His right cuff and uniform chest were singed from an overheated plasma manifold, and his eyes looked dead on at the viewer as the planet’s surface approached.

“Could have at least separated the saucer!” He yelled, voice reverberated along with the deck plating. Another EPS overload flared behind him.

“You know damn well there’s no time!” She shot back over the sound of several rapid fire extinguisher bursts, “Delfino, KEEP HER STEADY. Can you get a lock?”

The bridge rocked sideways, “This as steady as she’s gonna get,” Delfino’s tweaks to the thruster control computer had been slapdash to say the least. Compensating for erratic weather effects on a large disc-shaped starship was not something even bio-neural computers could do easily. Stuck with older isolinear systems, the Ahwahnee was doing all she could to fight the 100kph gusts, “three seconds until clear lock… Two…” a rising air current smashed into the dorsal saucer like an uppercut. Delfino gripped the conn to avoid flying out of her chair, “ONE!”

“Bridge to transporter room one,” Sreyler heaved herself off the deck and back into the centre seat, “do you have them?!”

“Affirmative, ma’am. The Captain and Commander Tursk are here. Receiving medical attention now.”

“The molecule?”

“Safely aboard, in the containment unit.”

Sreyler’s eyes closed for a split second. She closed the channel, “OK now CLIMB!”

Like an Ahwanheechee gelding of old, the Cheyenne-class bucked its nose up to the heavens. The exit trajectory was set, and the thrusters engaged. Remnants of those malicious clouds, already beginning to disperse, were forced apart in the light cruiser’s wake as it built up the speed it needed to clear the atmosphere.

Duranium glowed orange, then white, until cooling finally in the welcome void of space.

***

From the ground, Freyyn covered his ears as the sonic boom ricocheted off the mountains over which he’d travelled. It would be a long journey home, he thought to himself. The Nurnalest, along with the mammals who’d channeled it, were gone. The latter were driven away with ease, unable to hide behind the shock and awe of a weapon they did not understand. Alas, gone too were Wide-eyes and his hairy friend. He’d had much to discuss with that strange being. Freyyn marveled at how the fellow had dematerialised before his very eyes. Such unfathomable power.

Perhaps, though, it was not beyond reach. He wondered if the Gürm too might one day reach out from their world. They would be free of these conflicts; these meagre squabbles. They might join this galactic Federation of planets on their road to the stars.

He turned to Salatryx, who still held the lance in his hand. Perhaps, he pondered, the road was shorter than he thought.

END