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Syron hustled onto the bridge of the Talon. “We need to leave…fast,” she announced. “But not too fast.”
Sovak, who had been discussing ship’s maintenance with Chiri, turned to the Orion woman. “Fast, but not too fast. What does that mean?”
The warp engines were ready; the crew were back aboard. Syron plotted a course out of the Organian system toward Federation space, and the corvette-sized starship turned to depart the planet.
She admitted: “I may have…removed an Organian artifact from Organia.”
Sovak hid her Vulcanoid face in her hands and sighed heavily.
Chiri giggled nervously, asking, “What could go wrong?”
Seeing no pursuing ships on the long-range sensors, Syron opened her backpack and removed a twenty-centimeter tall undulating column of translucent, blood-colored material.
“Chiri, come scan this,” Syron demanded. She held the oddly-shaped object up to the light. The small Ferengi woman opened her well-worn science tricorder and scanned the artifact.
“Oh my,” she said, transferring the data to the science station screen. “That’s…quite something.”
C’Mal entered the bridge, her Ferasan tail swishing impatiently. “We left Organia? I didn’t even have a chance to beam down and look around. In the mirror universe, that whole star system was off-limits.”
Sovak placed the mineral-like object in C’Mal’s highly articulated paws.
“Carnelian,” she said. “So what?”
She noticed the others staring at the display.
“Not carnelian,” said Chiri. “It’s a crystalline matrix of dilithium silicate intermixed with 126.”
“One-twenty-six?” asked C’Mal.
Chiri explained: “An unstable element that shouldn’t exist for more than a microsecond. It doesn’t even have a name. The negative energy of the dilithium matrix is causing the element to form from its own byproducts at exactly the same rate as it decays.”
“Perfect equilibrium,” said Syron.
“It would take a culture as advanced as the Organians to create something like this,” Sovak thought aloud. She turned to Syron. “How did you acquire this?”
“I traded for it.”
“Traded with the Klingons on Organia?”
“Yes.”
“Traded what?”
Syron fidgeted. “Now, don’t get angry, Sovak. Look, this…you know, whatever it is…is unique and probably invaluable.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” complained the Romulan captain.
“I traded your bat’leth,” Syron said.
“You—you traded my four-hundred year old bat’leth, made by Lont’ec Oj and authenticated by Shoxen Son for a—for a rock?”
Syron pleaded for clemency: “Sovak, there are plenty of other bat’leths out there. There’s only one of…whatever this is.”
“That bat’leth was my ace in the hole for dealing with problem Klingons,” Sovak said. “Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“I made all the executive decisions while you were missing,” explained Syron. “I got used to it. Besides, I think this will, you know, pay off.”
“Well, I’m depressed,” said Sovak. The others stood, transfixed by the unusual object. Sovak shook her head sadly and went to her quarters to sleep.
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Six hours later, M’Vek found his mother Sovak in the mess, a cup of coffee in hand. Her son had turned sixteen while she was away on twenty-first century Earth. And while she had apologized to him for disappearing so suddenly, he seemed to be holding a grudge.
“What are you doing today?” she asked.
“C’Mal said she would show me how to clean and recalibrate the sensor modules,” he said. Then he instructed the replicator to make him a cold Tarkalean tea. “She’s super cool, mom.”
“She’s a killer,” Sovak said, staring at the table.
“Really, mom? Throwing her under the shuttle like that? She was a slave of the Terran Empire. She was forced to kill. And she told me some stories about the mirror universe you.”
Sovak sighed heavily. “I don’t want to know.”
The Talon lurched. Outside the mess hall window, the stars came to a standstill.
Tapping her comm badge, Sovak asked, “Bridge, why did we drop out of warp?”
Chiri’s voice was panicked. “Someone is beaming aboard. I think they’re controlling the transporter panel…remotely.”
“How?” asked Sovak, mystified. She glanced worriedly at M’Vek. “Have C’Mal meet me in the transporter room. Armed.”
“Understood.”
“Stay here,” Sovak gravely told M’Vek and departed.
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Phaser weapon in hand, C’Mal stood with Sovak watching the evanescent shimmer of the transporter settle into humanoid form. C’Mal raised the phaser and pointed.
Sovak realized in that moment that she didn’t trust C’Mal quite yet and gently pushed her gun arm down.
“Let’s not be assholes,” she suggested to the felinid.
Over the comm, Chiri reported, “We appear to be stopped at the mouth of a subspace tunnel. No way to know where it originated.”
The visitor resolved into what appeared to be a female, with pale skin that was tinged slightly green, flowing black hair, a ridged nose, faint facial stripes, and elvish ears. She wore a pleated white skirt and top. Her feet were bare.
She stepped from the transporter pad.
“My name is Carina,” she said, glancing about. “What a variety of creatures on this vessel. All sorts.”
Sovak felt the Talon return to warp speed as Carina stepped closer and regarded both her and C’Mal with an air of approval.
“You two destroyed a universe. You must indeed be powerful.”
“We…had a little help from our friends,” hedged C’Mal.
“And,” added Sovak, “we prevented the creation of the mirror universe in order to preserve the future of this universe.”
“But it did exist,” the stranger argued.
“How—how do you know that?” asked Sovak. “Who are you?”
“I told you, I’m Carina.”
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The crew gathered on the bridge of the Talon to meet the visitor.
Carina explained that she was from the Carina galaxy, a ball of stars proximate to the Milky Way. The “carnelian” statues, such as the one Syron had acquired on Organia, served to alert Carina’s kind to the presence of advanced civilizations. Scanning the atomic structure was the trigger. Oddly, it seemed the Organians, even with their million-year head start, had not bothered to take an interest in the peculiar nature of the artifact.
“That explains the atomically-engineered equilibrium of element one-twenty-six,” noted Chiri.
Syron appeared to be gloating. “I told ya.”
“Is this your true form?” asked Chiri, noting Carina’s odd mix of features.
“She’s a hybrid,” interjected M’Vek. “Like me.”
“Indeed, I took some from each of you to make this body,” Carina admitted. “Life in my galaxy evolved quite differently.”
“It must have required a terrific amount of energy to open a subspace tunnel from the Carina galaxy all the way to the Milky Way,” said Sovak. “How much power do you have at your command?”
Carina shrugged good-naturedly.
“Oh my god,” C’Mal groaned. “Am I the only one not buying this? She transports on board and you guys fall all over yourselves like—like she’s all that. I have yet to see any evidence of ‘great power’.”
“Well, I don’t like to show off,” Carina replied nonchalantly.
“Oh, please do,” challenged C’Mal.
The alien cast her eyes at each of them in turn: Sovak, C’Mal, Syron, Chiri, and M’Vek. Then she had them follow her to the darkened briefing room, where they all stood before the transparent aluminum windows, watching the stars.
“Let me see,” Carina said, gazing out at the distant points of light: white, blue, yellow, orange, and red suns. She pointed to one, and said, “That one.”
The star flared, the glow expanding until the whole stellar region was flooded with intense light.
“Supernova,” said Chiri, dashing to a console. “The exploding star is 57 G Aquarii, no known planets or inhabitants. Captain,” she met Sovak’s eyes, “it’s four-hundred light years from our position.”
“I thought I’d give the people in this galaxy something to look at,” Carina smiled.
Sovak shook her head. “How do you point at a star and cause it to go supernova four-hundred years ago?”
“I…take back what I said,” C’Mal whispered in contrition.
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A long-range proximity alert sounded. Returning to the bridge, they found a Klingon bird of prey closing fast on the Talon. It signaled: “Return the artifact.”
“The Klingons must have changed their mind about the statue,” Sovak pondered aloud. “Or someone who actually knows its value realized that it was missing.”
The engines whined.
Sitting down at the helm, Syron reported, “We’ve accelerated to warp nine.” She looked straight at Sovak and added, “Nobody was touching the controls.”
“The Klingon ship is accelerating to match,” C’Mal reported from the tactical station.
Syron corrected, “Warp nine point five. Now warp ten.”
“That’s impossible!” marvelled Sovak.
“Bird of prey is matching speed,” C’Mal said.
“That’s…also impossible,” said Sovak.
The Talon, an older Miter-class starship, topped out at warp nine, even with her upgraded engines. Any faster than warp nine and the stress induced by condensated vacuum energy would overcome the Talon’s structural reinforcement fields and the ship would tear apart. Similar limitations applied to the Klingon bird of prey.
“Warp twelve. Warp thirteen,” Syron said.
“Bird of prey is matching speed,” C’Mal reported.
“Another message from the Klingons,” said Chiri. “It’s the same: Return the artifact.”
Sovak turned to Carina, whose eyes were bright. She was smiling a perfect, toothy smile and seemed to be enjoying herself.
“I realize that you’re controlling my ship,” said Sovak, “but who’s controlling the Klingon ship? Something here is not what it seems.”
A look of dismay clouded Carina’s face as she gazed at the image of the pursuing Klingon vessel on the display. She waved her hand toward the stern of the Talon and the bird of prey was replaced on the display by three overpowering sources of illumination, looking like three diamonds hit by laser light.
“Oh no,” reacted Syron.
“Organians,” said Sovak. She turned to Carina. “We don’t want to piss off one of the most advanced species in this galaxy. I recommend we stop and talk.”
“I can’t return to my galaxy without the artifact,” Carina stated. “It’s the key that unlocks the door, so to speak.”
“Explain that to them,” Sovak said, turning to indicate the Organians. She instead found three new people standing on the bridge of her ship.
“We’ve dropped out of warp,” Syron said apprehensively.
Sovak noticed that Carina had subtly placed her index finger on her mouth. The Organians had taken the form of a Vulcanoid, an Orion, and a Ferengi, all dressed in simple earth-toned garments. They glowered at Sovak menacingly.
“Hello,” said Sovak.
“You saw through our illusion of the Klingon bird of prey. No matter. Do you know why we are here?” the Vulcanoid Organian asked coldly.
“We were driving too fast?” Sovak joked. “Because…warp thirteen.”
The Organians stared at her sourly.
The Vulcanoid, who appeared to be the leader, accused her: “You pilfered an Organian artifact from Organia in violation of the treaty between the Federation, the Klingon Empire…and ourselves. Return the object, or suffer dire consequences.”
“Pilfered?” replied Sovak. “There was no pilfering. No pilfering at all. In fact we traded a highly-prized artifact of our own, a four-century-old bat’leth, for that tiny stone statue. Besides, that artifact is not even Organian.”
“It was taken from Organia,” the being stated. “Do you even understand what the object is?”
Sovak was flustered. “Yes, I do. It’s…it’s…pretty. That’s why I took it. Look, if the object is Organian, then you guys show me another chunk of dilithium interlaced with element one-twenty-six. Sorry, but this was not made by Organians.”
The Orion Organian quietly suggested, “The Vulcan is not incorrect.”
“The what? I’m Romulan!” objected Sovak.
The Organian leader chided his compatriot. “Please, Nilonik, I’m trying to make a point.” He turned to Sovak. “The object was placed on Organia long before we Organians evolved into animals, let alone energy beings. If anyone has a claim on the object, it is us.”
“Well, I can’t stop you from taking it,” noted Sovak.
“On that, we can agree,” the Organian said haughtily.
Carina sighed, admiring the dark-orange translucent stone, then placed the artifact into the Organian’s waiting hands.
“But what about my bat’leth?” demanded Sovak.
“Caveat emptor,” the Ferengi Organian shrugged.
“Fine,” said Sovak. “Then get off my ship.”
“We will depart when we are ready to depart,” the Organian leader replied. The dirty looks from the other two Organians were impossible to ignore. “Which…is now.”
The three Organians transmogrified into brilliant, geometrically intricate patterns of light in a process that seemed entirely too lengthy, then disappeared entirely.
Carina was downcast. Sovak approached her and, overcome with sympathy, embraced the alien and pulled her close, patting her back. Oddly, the alien’s hair smelled of thyme.
“Are you hungry?” she asked the woman from the Carina galaxy. “I make a mean grilled naan and baba ghanoush.”
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Carina was both disgusted and pleased with her first sensation of eating. Chiri opened a bottle of the wine made by the nuns of the order she used to belong to. They all laughed at the Organians, who obviously experienced something analogous to a migraine when in the presence of “lesser beings.”
“Again, I’m sorry about the carnelian stone,” said Sovak.
“Don’t be,” said Carina, placing the artifact in question on the table. “I still have it. The Organians only thought they took it back with them.”
Sovak was astounded.
“You—you pulled a fast one on the Organians?” she asked. “You hoodwinked them?”
Carina spoke with her mouth stuffed full of naan bread. “It wasn’t hard. Besides, they tried to trick us.”
“Daaaaamn,” said C’Mal.
Carina emptied her goblet of wine, then stood and wandered over to the large mess hall window to observe the passing stars. Something appeared to be weighing on her mind, so the others left her alone with her thoughts.
She finally turned and announced, “I must return to the Carina galaxy now. The beings in your galaxy are far too primitive for us to interact with productively. Later, I will return to check on you again.”
“When?” asked Chiri.
“Another galactic year,” Carina answered. “Or two.”
“How long is that?” asked C’Mal.
“A long time,” said Sovak. She questioned Carina: “I was thinking, if the Organians are too ‘primitive,’ then what, in your eyes, qualifies as ‘advanced’?”
“It’s hard to define,” the alien said, lifting the carnelian stone from the table and holding it close. “But I know it when I see it. So long, everyone.”
“Before you go—” Sovak began.
Carina cut her off: “Sovak, forget about the bat’leth.”
The Talon’s crew all voiced their heartfelt farewells as Carina’s form was replaced by a transporter-like field of energy. The rushing, glowing photonic embers then faded until nothing of her remained.
THE END
Carina aboard the Talon, courtesy Djarn's character maker.