"It was an error to involve her," Luga said wearily. "I accept that. But the damage is done, now.... I only hope that she will act relatively predictably."
Inside the tiny research hut, the two of them stared at the monitor screen. "She is already making errors," Chrog said.
"The Organian? I think the Nhandesson weapon includes modes specifically for the destruction of Organians - the Nhandessons are within the Organian sphere of influence, they may have chafed at Organian restraints just as the Klingons do now -"
"I do not mean that." Chrog's finger stabbed at the screen. "She is breaking orbit, setting course to intercept the Leacock, leaving the Harrier to its own devices."
"So? The Harrier cannot defeat the Hov'etlh, she can deal with it at her leisure once she has destroyed the Leacock -"
"Assuming the Harrier stays to be dealt with! But Grau is no idiot - she will warp out as soon as she can, to return with a Starfleet task force in support! And the Organians will not stop her - they may even help her!"
Luga sighed deeply. "Then the solution is obvious. The Strange Attractor must engage the Harrier before Grau can escape. I suppose it is desirable in other ways - Grau's premature extinction will disrupt the timeline significantly -"
"You think the Rift entity will permit her destruction?"
"In this timeframe, it may not have sufficient control, sufficient awareness of linear spacetime, to protect her. In any case, we must take the risk." Luga shrugged. "A pity. It is a distraction, and our teams have finally finished their analysis -"
"Analysis of what?" Chrog demanded.
"Thyvesh's space-time coordinates. When he fled through the doorway, he left a resolvable trail. We have deciphered it -"
"Show me." Chrog was suddenly at her elbow, looming over her.
Luga tapped at the screen controls; images formed - graphs and diagrams. "There. Outside normal space-time, of course - but we knew that already. A trajectory can be plotted - but we must deal with the Harrier first -"
"You deal with the Harrier," said Chrog. Luga turned to stare at him. "Grau and Kirza are not our main concern. We are here for one purpose - to claim the powers of Priyanapari. Thyvesh's weapons cache. That is where he must have gone, that is where these coordinates lead... so that is where I must go."
"But the Harrier -"
"Deal with the Harrier. Activate an external portal to these coordinates - I will take an auxiliary craft, while you remain in this time zone to clean up. With luck, the Leacock will damage Kirza's ship sufficiently that you can eliminate her as well. She has proved worse than useless." Chrog raised his wrist communicator. "Strange Attractor. Beam up all landing parties, and ready an assault shuttle."
---
The portal looked - different, somehow, Chrog thought. He peered through the transparent aluminium of the assault shuttle's canopy. Behind him, the assault team went through the noisy ritual of checking their weapons - chronoplasma guns, demolitions gear, gas charges and crawler mines -
Different. Dimmer, a darker blue than usual. This one led through strange reaches of the continuum indeed.
"Commencing insertion," the pilot reported. Chrog reached for the main comms console. "We are going in," he said.
"Confirmed," Luga's voice replied. "We have the Harrier on positive track. Three minutes to weapons range."
"And Kirza?"
"Will come within range of Leacock in another fifteen."
"I hope they kill each other." White noise began to surge over the speakers, as the shuttle nosed into the temporal portal. "Inserting now. Chrog out."
The shuttle was wrapped in a dim, fluctuating indigo glow. Chrog stared pensively at it for some time, then turned his attention to the navigation console. "Low energy subspace environment," he muttered. The pilot turned his head. "We could, in theory, make interstitial warp jumps from here to... anywhere."
"Or nowhere," the pilot replied.
"We run no risks, if we can plot the coordinates with sufficient precision. And I can. I have expertise in such matters." Chrog bent his head over the navigation console, his leathery features intent with concentration. The pilot looked hard at him for a moment, then turned back to the helm.
It was hard to say how much time passed, in this dim limbo, but eventually the pilot spoke again. "We have a problem."
"What is it?" Chrog asked.
"We are approaching the coordinates you provided... but we are not reaching them. Our... velocity... reduces as we approach. Our speed is inversely proportional to our proximity."
Chrog snorted. "A simple dimensional folding, intended as some sort of barrier. I suppose it provides me with an ideal opportunity for a demonstration."
"A demonstration of what?"
Chrog smiled. "Interstitial warp jumps. We cannot pass through the space between us and our destination - not in less than an infinite amount of time. So, we will not pass through it - we will go around it."
"You are going to activate the warp drive inside the temporal portal?" The pilot sounded alarmed.
"For a brief moment, yes. There is no danger. I had considered this possibility, even." Chrog entered a series of commands on the navigation panel, his hands moving swiftly, assuredly. "There. Set the engines for a single pulse, one point five microseconds at warp two." Reluctantly, the pilot complied. "Engage."
Space and reality juddered, and the indigo void became a single blinding glare - and then the scene beyond the canopy changed, and the shuttle landed on solid ground with a sudden jolt. Chrog smiled. "You see?"
They were in a vast space, filled with glowing cylinders of light. Chrog stood up. "Check environmentals."
The pilot moved automatically to comply. "Where are we?"
"Where we intended to be. Thyvesh's destination." Chrog's finger stabbed out. "Look. There."
He was pointing at something that was not a glowing cylinder, but a complex arrangement of metallic parts. "The... other side... of Thyvesh's doorway?" the pilot asked.
"Without a doubt," said Chrog with satisfaction.
"You must be right," said the pilot. "Environmentals are... nominal. No life signs."
"Thyvesh must have moved on. No matter. We can investigate without his assistance." Chrog checked his pistol, moved to the shuttle's main hatch. "Open up."
The hatch hissed open. Chrog strode out, followed more cautiously by the assault squad. "Containment force cells," he said, as he strode towards the nearest cylinder. "Containing what?"
"Thyvesh talked about the Suliban weapons systems. An arsenal of temporal and genetic devices," the pilot said nervously.
"That seems obvious. And we must never discount the obvious." Chrog studied the green-glowing column before him. There was an object floating inside it; a package, he thought. His eyes narrowed. A package... containing a data module, and something else - a medical injector?
"Scan the field frequencies and find a counter-harmonic. Open it. I want to inspect this more closely."
The troopers were spreading out, cautiously, studying the glowing columns. Apart from the dull sound of their footsteps, the rattle of their gear, the swishing of their clothing... apart from that, the silence was absolute. A science lieutenant stepped up beside Chrog, and aimed a scanner at the column.
"Sir!" someone called. Chrog turned. One of the troopers was waving at him, urgently. "Over here!"
Chrog moved. As he approached, he could see - something - lying on the floor at the trooper's feet. He slowed, and looked down.
It was a corpse. It was roughly humanoid, but the first thing that struck Chrog was an impression of incredible age. It was desiccated, mummified, dressed in dusty rags. Chrog looked closely. The withered skin might once have been scaled, the forehead bore traces of a triple ridge.... "Thyvesh," he said. "Well."
"But how long -?" the trooper began to ask.
"That question is meaningless, here," said Chrog. "It might be instructive to know what he died of - but if it was long ago, in this time frame, then whatever killed him is no longer a threat." He shook his head. "Always assuming that it was not mere old age, or starvation."
"Sir!" The science lieutenant called out. "I have access."
Chrog strode back to the green column. The light had not, apparently, changed, but it offered no resistance as he reached inside and pulled out the package. He scanned the datapad rapidly. "Not even encrypted," he commented.
"It was concealed behind a force barrier in a region outside time and space," the science lieutenant said. "They may have thought that enough security."
"And yet, here we are," said Chrog. "Interesting. Multiple DNA recombinants, and a generic transcriptase carrier... a sort of taster menu of the Suliban genetic enhancements. Increased strength, rapid healing, body plasticity, upgraded reaction times - all in a package deliverable into any carbon-based creature's genome." He lifted the medijector in his hand, studied it. "Open another of these columns. If this is what is in one of them... this is a treasure trove indeed."
The science lieutenant went to stand by the next nearest column. This one was not green, but a pale yellowish colour. Inside it, Chrog could see nothing but a datapad. There was a faint whining sound as the lieutenant probed the column with his scanner; then he reached into the light and took out the datapad.
He studied it for a moment. A faint frown creased his leathery features.
Then he dropped the datapad to the floor, turned around, drew his chronoplasma pistol, and shot the nearest trooper through the head.
Chrog cursed and drew his own weapon. The science lieutenant calmly sighted on another of his comrades, aimed and fired. Someone uttered a shocked curse. "Set for stun!" Chrog shouted, but two of the troopers were shooting back already, their heavy miniguns blazing with plasma fire. The science lieutenant's personal shield flared, wavered, and failed; bolts of pallid green light seared deep into his body, and he fell.
"A trap," Chrog snarled. "A damnable trap."
"Sir -" The troopers were gathering around him, staring in shock at the bodies.
"We should have been more careful. I should have been -" Chrog bit back an oath. "We will investigate, but we will take precautions. We will find a more secure location -"
He looked around him. Nothing but glowing columns of light, and the churning shape of the doorway....
"And we cannot consider this place secure.... So. We make another interstitial jump, and prepare automated devices to probe this place."
"Interstitial jump?" The pilot sounded doubtful. "Where to, sir?"
"I have plotted it already. A location we have already secured... and it is, even, close at hand. By the standards of this part of the continuum. The Denobulan station. We will link up with our caretaker force there, and use that as our base."
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