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Chapter Text

First Officer’s Log, Stardate 50835.1: Over the last week, Voyager has adjusted course and gained new information on local space thanks to our latest passenger, Taymon. A former member of the Archellian Merchant Marine—a species and organization we have yet to meet—Taymon found us local sources for trade to complete the last of our repairs from our run-in with the Taresians and the Nasari. In the meanwhile, we’ve sent a shuttle to the location of a Vostigye Space Station where he believes we can gain access to star charts beyond his knowledge.

First Officer's Personal Log, supplemental: I’m grateful for Taymon’s information, but when the Captain returns to duty, I’m looking forward to not having to be the one on the receiving end of Taymon’s “charm.”    

*

Lieutenant Alexander Honigsberg adjusted the control on the treadmill to its lowest setting and tried to ignore the fact that everyone else in Voyager’s Gym was doing far, far more than he was. 

Maybe he should have booked the Holodeck for this, but it felt like such a waste of a Holodeck session to continue his post-surgical “recovery” program. 

Which was, excitingly, to “take a long walk.” 

He took a deep, even breath and tried to ignore the faint tightness that still remained in his chest. He’d taken a plasma eruption directly to the face weeks ago. It had been, in Doctor Emmett Hall’s typical holographic dry and self-congratulatory delivery, a “miracle of both holographic programming, talent, and skill” that Emmett and Kes had managed to rebuild his lung.

But regenerating the damaged tissue and restoring his ability to use it seemed to be two different things. He’d been short of breath to the point of near panic the first few days he’d woken up, and he’d had to wear a breathing apparatus that made him look like a cross between a Benzite and a Lothra—only smaller and with better hair—and he’d barely made it through three hours of work over his first week out of Sickbay before he’d needed to sit down while the room span around him. 

You’re going to recover, Alex. Doctor Jeff Fitzgerald’s voice had been calming at the time, and it wasn’t like he didn’t believe the man. Fitzgerald wouldn’t lie to him, and the man was a doctor as well as Voyager’s answer to a Counselor. But it’s going to take time. It was that last part, though, Honigsberg was starting to realize he’d misjudged. He’d been thinking of it in engineering terms, where at a certain point it would be just completely repaired.

Even when he’d donated a lung to Durst—long may he suffer in Klingon Hell—he’d recovered faster than this.

Compared to engineering, biology sucked.

He was pulled from his thoughts—and his boring, slow, drudge of a walk—by the arrival of someone at the Treadmill beside him. He glanced over.

“Alex.” Lieutenant Scott Rollins smiled at him, and Honigsberg had to fight an uncharitable wave of annoyance and jealousy. Rollins probably didn’t mean to look all strong and broad and functional, but his sleeveless workout shirt and running shorts—and the way he’d started off on one of the treadmill’s higher settings—all but screamed the fact the man to Honigsberg’s left was, in fact, not just healthy, but powerful. “Good to see you,” Rollins said, not even puffing yet, despite the thud-thud-thud of his run. 

The man did not run lightly. Then again, he was nearly two metres tall and built like an emergency bulkhead.

“Thanks,” Honigsberg said, and tried not to let it sound too sour. 

Rollins frowned, a line forming between his strong eyebrows and his blue eyes telegraphing concern. “You okay?”

So much for monitoring his tone. Honigsberg sighed—which turned out to be a super-bad idea, because dizziness followed—and eyed Rollins. At least he could turn his head while he continued his ridiculously languid stroll.

“This is already one of my least favourite places to be,” Honigsberg said. “I mean, look at Baxter and Drapanas.” He gestured to where Lieutenant Walter Baxter and Ensign Wendy Drapanas were spotting each other while alternating reps and sets with the octagonal adjustable weights probably set to something in the range of are-you-even-serious-right-now? Both were working up a good sweat, both of them also displaying thick muscular biceps and triceps and all the other muscles involved in doing that lifting thing they were doing. 

Rollins glanced over at the pair, and then back at him. “You’re doing physio, Alex.” 

“I’m taking a walk.” Honigsberg rolled his eyes, mostly at himself. He sounded even more petulant than he felt. “Sorry. I’m just tired. All the time.” 

“I’ll bet,” Rollins said, still thud-thud-thudding, though at least now he sounded slightly out of breath. “Anything I can do?”

“No.” Honigsberg shook his head. Then tilted his head. “Well, maybe. When I’m not doing a very poor version of my not even half of my job, or doing exciting recovery exercises like this one, I’m asleep. Tell me the gossip.”

Rollins puffed out a laugh, then dipped his chin. “Oh. You’re serious. Okay, then…” He ran a few more steps. “Captain and Doctor Fitzgerald are back today,” he said, eyeing Honigbserg with a little shrug.

“Wow,” Honigsberg said. “You are so bad at gossip.”

Rollins laughed. “Sorry.”

“What about Daggin and T’Prena. Any news there?” Honigsberg said.

“News?” Rollins frowned, then blinked. “Oh! Right. I don’t think so? Or, if there’s a baby on the way, they’ve haven’t told anyone yet. Or, I imagine they’d have told Emmett or Kes, but…” He shook his head. “Not me.”

“Who’d have thought the Tactical Officer would be the literal worst at gossip?” Honigsberg scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to know everything? Isn’t that your job?”

“Whether or not T’Prena is having a baby isn’t exactly a security issue,” Rollins said.

The door to the Gym opened and Honigsberg watched their newest passenger, Taymon, walk into the Gym. He wore light grey trousers and shoes, but seemed to have forgotten to bring a shirt. Then again, given the man’s physique and the way the spots that started at his temples trailed down either side of his neck before crossing over his collarbones and creating a dotted line that drew attention down between his pectorals and across his stomach, maybe that was the point. 

Taymon, for his part, didn’t seem to notice Honigsberg’s glance. Instead, the man seemed to be eyeing the others in the room, and his gaze settled on Crewman Rebecca Sullivan and Crewman Sveta Korepanova, who were side-by-side on two of the three elliptical machines, “rowing” at a heavy pace while they talked quietly.

Taymon smiled, and headed over in their direction.

Oh, you pour soul, Honigsberg thought. They are going to eat you alive.

“Actually,” Rollins said, in a lower voice than usual for the man. Honigsberg turned back to him. “Most of the actual gossip right now is about him.” Rollins nodded at Taymon.

“I mean, look at him,” Honigsberg said, because sometimes the obvious needed to be stated. Those spots did lead the eye on a particular journey. 

“Spoken like someone who hasn’t talked to him much,” Rollins said, with a twist of his lips. “He’s been helpful, don’t get me wrong, but…” He shook his head, and Honigsberg could see him swallowing whatever critical thing it was Rollins had been about to add to the discussion.

Seriously?

“No, no, you’re doing it wrong again,” Honigsberg said. “Speak. This is the best conversation I’ve had since I left Sickbay.”

Rollins laughed, wiped the back of his forehead with one wrist-band, and then seemed to give in to the urge to spill the details. 

Finally. 

“Do you know about the Vostigye station?” Rollins said.

“Friendly species, might have some star charts for us,” Honigsberg said. “Lan and Taitt took a shuttle to meet up with them; Stellar Cartography is excited to not have to try and do all the work at warp for a change.”

“Right,” Rollins said. “Taymon was the one who let us know the Vostigye were even there. But he tried to wrangle a spot on the shuttle, and I don’t think it had anything to do with the value of the mission.” 

It took Honigsberg a second to parse that one out. “Because he wanted time with Zandra, or with Sahreen?” Not that either lady would be interested, Honigsberg figured, what with both of them being happily involved.

“Yes,” Rollins said dryly. “That man has already made unsuccessful passes at Hickman, Kyoto, and Gara—he’s not subtle—and while I can’t deny the information he’s given us has been good, I won’t be sad to see him go.” 

“He’s… leaving?” Honigsberg said, needing to get a better lungful of air and—damn it—he had to pause the treadmill. He leaned against the rail and took a moment to catch his breath. He was dizzy. Again.

“Alex?” Rollins said, pausing his own treadmill and turning to face him.

“Yeah, it’s just… like this… right now,” Honigsberg said. “Don’t tell Kes… or she’ll put me back… on that damned breather.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be a good idea?” Rollins regarded him.

“I’m fine.” Honigsberg couldn’t take the pity. “So… he’s leaving?” 

“Oh.” Rollins shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, there’s nothing concrete yet, but his knowledge doesn’t go much further than the Vostigye.” He lifted one shoulder. “Apparently the merchant fleet he belonged to was from the other side of Taresian space, so I’m not sure what else he’ll have to offer.”

Honigbserg glanced at Taymon, who was now seated at the third elliptical and—there was no other way to describe it—showing off for Sullivan and Sveta. 

Both of whom were pointedly ignoring him, though if he was reading Sveta’s body language right she was a few moments more away from snapping him like a twig.

“Excuse me, hew-mon.” 

Honigsberg blinked, turning to his right in surprise. Somehow, he’d missed the arrival of the two Ferengi “passengers,” and their guard, Crewman Kat Hughes. The smaller of the two Ferengi was looking at Honigsberg, while the other one—the physician, Honigsberg thought—was moving to one of the stationary cycles. 

“What can I do for you…?” Honigsberg said, wishing he could remember the name of the Ferengi. 

“Kol,” the Ferengi supplied, with a small grimace. 

“Kol, sorry,” Honigsberg said. “What can I do for you?” Behind him, Honigsberg could feel Rollins sort of looming, and imagined he’d done that thing he could do where he crossed his arms and suddenly seemed about a decimetre larger in every dimension.

“I understand you are in charge of all the engineers,” Kol said. “And I would like to make the same deal as Arridor.”

Honigsberg blinked. “I’m afraid I was injured and I’ve been a little out of the loop,” he said. “I don’t know what deal you’re referring to.”

“Ah,” Kol said. He gripped both hands in front of his chest, and bowed his head slightly. “He is training to be able to work alongside your doctors and females in Sickbay.” Kol’s dark eyes didn’t move from Honigsberg’s gaze as he spoke, and to the Ferengi’s credit, the directness didn’t feel manipulative or cagey. “I am not just a pilot. I purchased a full education in shuttle and impulse maintenance.” 

“You want to work?” Honigsberg said, not hiding his surprise. 

Kol nodded. “That is how you hew-mons do things on this ship, is it not? You work, and in exchange, you earn better food, better quarters?”

“Uh.” Honigsberg took a second with that. “Not exactly, but I think I get what you mean.” He eyed the Ferengi, and forced himself to move past his immediate reflex to assign the worst motive. Chances were just as good Kol meant what he was saying. Honigsberg couldn’t imagine he was having a good time in Crewman quarters with the other Ferengi and a guard at their door, with limited access to the rest of the ship and little in the way of anything to do. 

“I can prove my skills,” Kol said.

Honigsberg nodded. “That would have to happen, yes.” He took another deep breath—fighting the tightness and the slight ache—then released it. “I’ll get back to you, Kol. But I’ll consider it.”

Kol backed away, doing his little half-bow again, joining the other Ferengi on the stationary bicycle, and seemingly setting himself up for a good workout. 

Honigsberg turned to Rollins. “I was not expecting that.”

“Arridor has been working his way through some qualifying programs on the Holodeck with Doctor Hall.” Rollins’s voice didn’t exactly overflow with joy. “Apparently he’s been doing okay. He might end up being a medtech. Likely on the night shift. Poor Sullivan.” 

“Jetal could use the help,” Honigsberg said. “If he does have the skills.” The loss of Ensign Fukai had left a hole in the staffing of the Main Shuttlebay, though they’d handled it by rotating other operations and engineering staff into the position as needed. “Given we’re starting to move forward with Daggin’s green walls, it would be a good time for it, too. In fact, the green walls are going to involve some pretty repetitive work—he could show me his skillset that way.”

“You sound like you’re talking yourself into it.” Rollins said. 

Honigsberg turned back to him, and noticed he had, indeed, done the crossed-arms thing. “I think that’s not far off.”

Rollins gave him a little nod. “Just make sure he has zero actual flight access,” he said. “The last thing we’d need is him running off with a shuttle to set himself up as another ruler somewhere.” 

Honigsberg snorted out a laugh of agreement. “Fair enough.” He reached forward and tapped his treadmill back on, and started walking again. Rollins began thudding beside him. 

“When do we get to that space station?” Honigsberg said. 

“Later today,” Rollins said. “I can page you when we get there, if you’d like?”

“That would be great,” Honigsberg said. “In the meanwhile…” He took another short, tight breath, frustrated. “I think I have to go lie down again.” 

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Zandra Taitt looked at the information coming up on the large, circular display table in the centre of the Vostigye Operations Room and as the projectors created a three-dimensional image of the star system the observatory was scanning, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a low, impressed whistle of appreciation.

The result sent the ears of every Vostigye scientist in the room to swivel in her direction. 

“Sorry,” she said, knowing she was probably blushing, and raising one hand. “That’s a sound humans make when we’re impressed by something.”

“It was not an upleasant sound,” Allac Taga said. The lead stellar cartographer among the sixty Vostigye on the station, Taga had been the individual they’d worked with the most, and Taitt was fairly certain there was amusement in the man’s soft voice, though she was still working on interpreting Vostigye mannerisms. 

And trying to get past her human tendency to see them as, well, adorable.

The Vostigye were smaller than both she and Lan—already something of a feat, really—and resembled nothing more to Taitt than humanoid Jerboas, mostly due to their light coating of soft fur, wide-set dark eyes, and of course the delicate, long ears the Vostigye seemed to be nearly constantly in motion. 

“How do you get this level of definition at that range?” Ensign Sahreen Lan said. She was pointing to the holographic representation of the star system that was impressively clear and extremely detailed for a star system so distant from the station.

“The sensors arms use a refractory arc,” Taga said, and Taitt pictured the trio of sensor arms that branched out from the central cylindrical hub of the station. They weren’t particularly large, but if she understood what Taga was saying, it was a clever piece of technology.

“Refracted through subspace, to create a larger lensing effect?” Taitt said, taking a guess. 

“That’s right.” Taga’s ears flicked and he nodded, his narrow mouth turning up in a tiny smile.

It made her want to pet him, and she forced herself to keep her hand at her side. “So your three arrays can get you this level of detail on any system within multiple sectors of space…” She shook her head, genuinely impressed. “No wonder our contact said you were the go-to place for this kind of information.”

“The Archellian Merchant Marine value good star charts,” Taga said. “And they have excellent grains. It is an equitable trade.” 

“Well, I’m sure we’ll come up with something from Voyager’s Garden you’ll like,” Taitt said. 

Taga’s ears flicked again and he nodded. “I will download this system for you, and then we can continue scanning the systems on your path forward.”

“Thank you,” Taitt said, meaning it. 

The Vostigye moved off to do just that, and Lan sidled up beside her. 

“Okay, I know this is totally unprofessional,” she said, in a whisper that barely carried between them. “But is it just me, or are they cute?”

“Not just you,” Taitt said, not even trying to fight off her smile. “Have you ever seen a Jerboa?”

Lan shook her head.

“Remind me to show you one when we get back to Voyager,” Taitt said. 

Lan nodded, and Taitt thought some of the good humour had slipped away from the Trill woman’s smile. Her dark eyes seemed to go somewhere off, too, like she wasn’t seeing what was in front of her.

“Everything all right?” Taitt said.

Lan shook her head, pushing some of the escaping black curls back behind her ear. “Not your fault. You just reminded me there’s a conversation looming when we get back to Voyager.”

“Conversation?” Taitt said. 

“It’s Michael,” Lan said, and her expression tightened, like she’d just announced a warp core breach in progress. “Ever since he got hurt, he’s been dropping hints he’d like to move in. Live together.”

“Okay,” Taitt said, drawing out the word. “Is that… bad?” As far as she knew, Sahreen Lan and Fun Murphy—Ensign Michael Murphy—were very happy together. She hoped that hadn’t changed. 

“I don’t know,” Lan said, exhaling and shaking her head. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.” She glanced down, then back up. “It’s just on my mind.”

“No, it’s fine,” Taitt said. “Surely you’ve been through this before, though? With Lan, I mean?” She gestured at Lan’s stomach, where the Lan symbiont lived within Sahreen, forming the joined being that was Sahreen Lan.

“Four lifetimes, zero live-in partners,” Lan said. “Not once.” 

Taitt stared. “Really?”

“Really,” Lan said. “Pasha couldn’t keep a plant alive, Kejal barely had room for himself and his ego, and Dolay was the master of the one-sided crush.” 

“Oh,” Taitt said.

“As for me, Michael is the first person I’ve ever successfully not frustrated right out of my life.” Lan sighed. “I should say no, shouldn’t I?”

“Sahreen,” Taitt said, putting one hand on Lan’s shoulder. “You love him. I know you do. And he’s over-the-moon about you.” 

“But… living together?” Lan scoffed. “Me? With another person with thoughts and opinions on… everything?”

Taitt paused to consider that, and Sahreen’s double-take—and then how the Trill woman narrowed her eyes—made Taitt want to take a physical step back.

“What?” Taitt said.

“Normally by now you’re talking about how magical it is living with Abol,” Lan said. “The reason I come to you for relationship advice is because you’re this unending font of human optimism. It’s often exhausting.” Lan cracked a smile, taking the edge off the comment. “But it’s also a nice counterbalance to my…” She trailed off.

“Relentless assumption of the worst?” Taitt said, smiling right back.

Lan nodded. “That. But you’re not doing it, so… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Taitt said, and she heard the uncertainty in her own voice and sighed. “Abol saw the future…” She frowned, then shook her head. “Never mind. He’s reported what he needed to to the Captain. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, you don’t get to stop there,” Lan said, pointing a finger at her.  

Taitt sighed. She did need to talk about this with someone. “He saw us with children,” she said. “In fact, he saw us with grandchildren. I know one of my grandson’s eventual names.”

“Oh no.” Lan blinked. “Is it a bad name?”

Taitt laughed. “No… I just…” She took a deep breath. “I thought I was past accepting that Abol and I will be together for six—maybe seven—more years.” She glanced at the Vostigye around them, and saw more than one upright ear flicking or trembling and knew there was no way the aliens weren’t listening, but they were doing a fantastic version of politely minding their own business. And honestly, she didn’t mind. She needed to get some of this out of her own damn head. “Abol spoke of his own death as this beautiful, natural end.” She faced Lan, and saw the discomfort and sadness in Lan’s eyes that she expected from a discussion of death. “See? You get it. I don’t see it as beautiful. It may be natural, but…”

“Not beautiful,” Lan said, nodding slowly. “So it was a reminder of the clock, then?”

“And how it keeps ticking,” Taitt said. “But also… if we do have children—and I understand temporal physics enough to know that’s not certain now that Abol has seen the future—what about them?”

Lan shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

“They’ll be half Ocampa. Setok grew up in just over a year.” Taitt took a shaky breath, and realized she was on the edge of tears. “If Abol and I have children…” She swallowed. “It’s likely I’ll outlive them, Sahreen.”

“Oh,” Lan said, more an exhalation than a word, really. She reached out and took Taitt’s wrist in one hand, squeezing, a gesture of comfort Taitt truly appreciated all the more because she knew just how rarely Lan was the sort to offer anything like them. “I hadn’t made that leap.” 

“When Setok was born, Abol and Kes talked about his potential genetics a few times,” Taitt said, recovering a little. “They think he might live more than twenty years, given his Vulcan DNA, but… twenty years?” She shook her head. “Vulcans live long past a hundred. Many cross two centuries.” She took a breath. “I don’t like the idea of outliving my children even less than like I like the idea of outliving my partner.”

“Well damn, Zandra.” Lan said crossing her arms. “That casts my whole ‘should I let Michael move in?’ debate into one hell of a petulant and self-involved light, doesn’t it?” 

Taitt laughed. “Sahreen, let the poor man move in.”

Lan rolled her eyes. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Sahreen.” Taitt smiled. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

An alarm sounded, and the lighting in the room shifted from the soft amber they’d been working under to a deep pulsing orange. All the Vostigye froze, their ears rising rigidly.

“That was your fault,” Lan said. 

*

“Still no answer to hails?” Captain Aaron Cavit said, coming onto the Bridge from his Ready Room and stepping down into the Command area to join his first officer, Lieutenant Commander Ro Laren. 

The Bajoran woman shook her head. “Nothing yet. We’re almost there.” 

Cavit nodded and took his seat beside her. She noticed he was turning the new ring he wore with his thumb, an unconscious gesture, she imagined, but one betraying his unease at the lack of communication with the previously friendly and outgoing Vostigye scientists. 

“It could be interference,” Ro found herself adding. “Ensign Simmons picked up an odd subspace fluctuation on long-range scans.” She turned to face the dark-haired ensign who stood at Ops, and raised her voice a little. “Any luck with pinning down that distortion?”

“I’m afraid not, Commander.” Simmons shook her head. “I asked Stellar Cartography to take a look as well, but whatever it was, it happened at the far end of our sensor range, and it didn’t match anything in the database.” She paused. “I did get readings consistent with what might be plasmatic energy, but they could be sensor ghosts.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Cavit said.

Ro regarded him, and couldn’t help a small smile when he glanced at her, caught her looking, and rubbed his own smile with one hand. 

“What?” he said, back to a lower, just-between-them volume of discussion.

“Marriage suits you,” she said. “Captain Fitzgerald.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. “Jeff asked you to call me that, didn’t he?” He eyed her. “I don’t supposed you’d be willing to drop a ‘Doctor Cavit’ on him?”

“Your husband is in charge of scheduling all my physicals,” Ro said, shaking her head. “I’m not giving him any excuses to notice I’m overdue.”

Cavit scoffed, but then tilted his head in agreement. “Fair enough.” 

“We’re approaching the coordinates of the Vostigye Station,” Lieutenant Veronica Stadi said from the Conn. 

“Drop us out of warp when we’re there,” Cavit said. “Scott, hail them again when we—”

On the viewscreen, Ro watched as the streaks of stars returned to the pinpricks of space at impulse speeds, and had the same reaction as the Captain of her thoughts coming to a halt.

No space station appeared in view.

“Scott?” she said.

“No sign of the station,” Lieutenant Scott Rollins said from Tactical. “No sign of the shuttle, either.”

“Ensign,” Cavit said, rising from his chair. “I want a full sensor sweep. We’re sure we’re at the right co-ordinates for the Vostigye station?”

“Aye, Captain,” Simmons said. “Coordinates are confirmed and… Wait. I’ve got something. There’s a small amount of metallic composites—debris.” She looked up, her eyes widening in concern. 

“Debris,” Ro rose from her own chair. “Are you saying the station was destroyed?”

“I’ve got the debris,” Rollins said. “It’s not much.”

“Can we identify the composition?” Cavit said.

“Boronite, carbon-sixty composites, some sarium…” Simmons looked up. “Those do match building components for a space station, but Lieutenant Rollins is right. There’s not enough here to be remains.” She frowned tapping away. “I’m seeing what could be sensor relay components…” She tilted her head. “It could be part of an antenna or sensor array.” 

“So where’s the rest of the station?” Stadi said. 

“Good question. Can you put the debris on screen?” Cavit said.

“On screen,” Simmons said.

Ro looked at the twisted pieces of metal and frowned. It almost looked melted to her eyes. But Simmons was right, it resembled an array of some sort. “What happened to it?”

“My best guess would be it was exposed to high temperature or radiation,” Simmons said. “The energy decay readings suggest it was no more than an hour ago.”

“Anything on long-range scans?” Ro said.

Simmons shook her head.

“It doesn’t match any weapon signatures in our files,” Rollins said, though he lifted one shoulder to denote the obvious: their files on what kinds of weapons existed in the Delta Quadrant were, at best, a work in progress. 

“Even if it was, why attack a science station with a reputation for freely trading star charts?” Cavit shook his head. 

“Plasma particles,” Simmons said quietly, and Ro turned to face her.

“Ensign?”

“Sorry,” Simmons said. “It’s just, there's a residual pattern emanating from subspace. It almost looks like plasma particles, but the distribution pattern is odd.”

Ro joined her at the station, looking over her shoulder, and saw what she meant right away. It reminded her of the pattern a boat might make on a lake’s surface, triangular and more-or-less flat, which made little sense for space. “It's almost like a wake,” she said, pointing. “Like something moved away from here, and left those particles behind.”

“Are you suggesting something took the station?” Rollins said.

“Well, it’s not here,” Cavit said, crossing his arms. “And there’s no sign of our people or the Vostigye. Can you get a heading?”

“I can,” Simmons said. “Sending it to the Conn.”

“Follow those particles, Stadi,” Cavit said.

“Aye Captain,” Stadi said. 

Ro returned to stand beside Cavit, and glanced at him. 

Before she could make the suggestion, he turned to her. “Have Abol and Murphy come up here, would you? I’ll talk to them in my Ready Room.” 

*

Aaron Cavit knew both Crewman Abol Tay and Ensign Michael Murphy well enough to know neither were beat-around-the-bushes types. They both preferred to be direct, so he did just that.

“When we arrived at the coordinates of the Vostigye Station, it wasn’t there,” he said. 

Abol’s dark eyes locked on him, and Murphy took a short, quick inhalation.

“Destroyed?” Murphy said.

“No,” Cavit said. “We found a small piece of debris—what might have been part of a sensor array—but not nearly enough to account for a space station capable of holding sixty.”

“No sign of their shuttle, either,” Abol said, and he sounded rather sure of it.

“That’s right,” Cavit said. “There was also what could be signs of some sort of motion or drag—plasma particles—and we’re heading in that direction now, but so far there’s nothing on short or long range sensors. I’m not giving up hope, but I want to be clear with you both that we don’t know where they are, and we don’t know what happened to them.” He paused. “And right now, there’s no sign of them.” 

“They’re okay,” Abol said, again, with such surety Cavit wondered if maybe he should have invited Jeff to this talk. “We just have to find them.”

Murphy glanced at him. “How do you know that?” Murphy was a good officer and a smart scientist, and Cavit could hear the mix of hope and skepticism warring in the man’s soft question.

Cavit also spotted a wetness in the man’s hazel eyes. 

“I saw both Lieutenant Taitt and Ensign Lan in the future,” Abol said, leaning forward in his chair and lacing his fingers together. “And while I’m aware that my visit to future time periods comes with an inherent disruptive effect—knowing what should be will inevitably taint choices I make, which could drive those outcomes away, rather than allowing them to unfold as they would have in my ignorance—this large a diversion isn’t likely. I wasn’t involved in any of the decisions on who to send, or when, and there wouldn’t have been any reason to be concerned, even if I had.” He paused, looking at Murphy with earnestness and that same surety. “So: they are alive. We need to find them.” 

Murphy took another short breath, then nodded, turning back to Cavit. “Captain, those particulates..?”

“I’ll have everything sent to Stellar Cartography,” Cavit said. “Unless you two want to work on the Bridge?” 

“Why don’t you stay co-ordinate from the Bridge?” Murphy said to Abol, and Cavit realized that in the absence of Lieutenant Taitt, Ensign Murphy was currently in charge of the Stellar Sciences division, as Ensign Hickman tended to take the swing shift, leaving Crewman Telfer for the night shift. “I can use the astrometric scanners in the lab.”

Abol nodded. “Aye, sir.” 

Cavit regarded Abol for a moment, but if the man had any doubt at all, it didn’t show. Abol’s odd temporal displacement was still something Cavit was wrapping his head around—Abol had received multiple glimpses of his own future thanks to the combination of a time-traveling duplicate, a biological end-of-life process, and telepathic ability—but he certainly wasn’t about to look a hopeful theory in the mouth. 

“All right then,” Cavit said. “I’ll let you both get to work, and we’ll keep following the trail.”

*

“The particles are dissipating,” Lieutenant Veronica Stadi said, regarding her console and frowning as the trail she was following grew fainter by the moment. “The path ends here.”

“Full stop,” Cavit said, and Stadi tapped in the commands.

“Full stop,” she said.

“Ensign, initiate a full sensor sweep,” Ro said. “Is there any sign of what made that wake?”

Simmons shook her head. “No ships, no structures.”

“I’ve got no signs of weapons fire, either,” Rollins added from Tactical. 

Stadi ran another sweep with the navigational array, too, though she knew the sensors Simmons was using would be far more capable of finding any more traces than the system designed to work with the engines. Tension was rising, as was frustration—from everyone by Abol—and she was just as at a loss for options as anyone else.

What happened to the space station? 

“Keep looking,” Cavit said. “If we’re dealing with plasma particulates, we can realign the lateral array to pick up the specific subspace patterns they create.” 

“Aye, sir,” Simmons said, and got to work.

“Stellar Cartography to Bridge,” Ensign Murphy’s voice broke the frustrated silence that had formed. 

“Go ahead,” Cavit said. 

“I think I’m picking up what could be a subspace disruption forming ahead of us. I’m using one of the algorithms we use to keep an eye out for wormholes, and it’s tripping off some of the known precursors.”

“Simmons, Abol?” Cavit said.

“I see it,” Simmons said. “It’s barely there, but it’s growing.”

“A definite subspace disruption,” Abol added, and his satisfaction—borderline vindication—breezed past her like a warm morning wind through an open window. “It’s growing on an exponential curve. I don’t think it’s a wormhole, but—”

Voyager started to tremble, and Stadi frowned at her Inertial Dampener readings. They skittered up and down almost at random, like the ship was trying to compensate for a near-warp speed even though they were standing still.

“Back us off,” Ro said. “Nice and slow.”

Stadi was already working her station, and the chop kept increasing. 

“Shields up,” Cavit said. “Red Alert.”

Stadi ignored the siren, focusing on getting Voyager to retreat from what was forming ahead of them, but having little luck in the process. A gravimetric effect seemed to be accompanying the formation of… whatever it was. 

“Something's emerging from subspace,” Simmons said, and Stadi glanced up at the viewscreen.

A flare of white light split space in front of them, with two plumes of plasma erupting above and below a plane around the eruption, where a ring of energy pulsed outward.

And straight towards Voyager.

“Zandra,” Abol said.

Chapter Text

“Roni?” Ro—and everyone else on the Bridge—sat or otherwise braced themselves as the wave of energy flared out in a planar ring that looked to be headed right for Voyager.

“Engines aren’t responding,” Stadi said, leaning to one side. She’d activated thrusters, Ro could tell from her vantage point, and seemed to be attempting to raise them on a relative Z axis.

“Navigational control just went offline,” Simmons said. 

“Bridge to Engineering,” Cavit said. “We need engines.”

“Working on it.” Honigsberg’s voice was clipped over the channel. 

“We’re not going to clear that energy ring on thrusters,” Stadi said. 

Ro tapped the intra-ship comm on her control panel as the bright ring of energy nearly filled the viewscreen. “Brace for impact!”

Voyager lurched beneath Ro, and she gripped her armrests, though it wasn’t as rough as it could have been, thanks to Stadi’s quick thinking. 

“Dorsal shields are intersecting the energy burst,” Simmons said.

“They’re holding at eighty percent,” Rollins said. “Minor damage to deck fifteen.”

The wave continued to strike as it passed almost below them.

“Options?” Cavit said.

“The eruption disc is plasma-based, and sustained from the anomaly’s opening,” Abol said from the Science station. 

Ro eyed her panel read out. “Captain, we dissipated plasma storms in the Badlands with phaser bursts.” 

“That could work,” Abol said.

Cavit gave her a wide smile. “Good idea. Scott?”

“Charging phasers,” Rollins said. “Locking—wait. What..?”

With another flare of light that filled the viewscreen, the anomaly, the hourglass eruptions above and below the plane, and the erupting ring of plasma all winked out. On the viewscreen, space once again looked like it’s normal, empty self, pinpricks of light in the distance.

Cavit rose from his chair. “Damage report.”

“Dorsal shields at seventy-nine percent,” Rollins said. “Minor hull buckle on Deck fifteen, sections eleven through nineteen.”

“One minor injury reported, Sickbay is responding,” Simmons said.

“Engines are back online,” Stadi said. “I can back us away from the origin point, on the off chance it decides to come back?” She glanced at Ro and Cavit.

“Take us back a thousand kilometres, but then hold position,” Cavit took a breath. “The trail led here. Abol, you sensed Lieutenant Taitt?” 

Ro looked at the Ocampa man at the Science Station. He nodded, looking at the viewscreen, though his dark eyes seemed to be trying to look beyond it. “I felt her, Captain. I can’t feel her now, though.” 

“What does that mean?” Ro said, keeping her voice as gentle as she could. Her readouts of the anomaly, despite the ring reminding her of a plasma twister in the Badlands, looked like nothing she’d ever seen before in her life.

Abol turned back to his readouts. “According to the telemetry, the anomaly is an astral eddy, existing at the confluence of space and subspace.” He eyed the viewscreen again. “That would explain why it vanished completely from our sensors when it transitioned back.”

“It was highly charged with plasma,” Simmons said. 

“Which explains the particle wake,” Abol said. “And the motion—when it manifests, the opening almost functions like a low-grade warp field.”

“So this eddy dipped in out of somewhere between space and subspace,” Ro said. “And… what? It swallowed up our shuttle? Or the entire Vostigye station?”

“I believe so,” Abol said. 

“So how do we get everyone back out of it?” Cavit said.

“It’s not registering on sensors at all now,” Simmons said, then, after a pause, she added. “Could it have completely dissipated?”

“Let’s work under the assumption it hasn’t,” Ro said, standing and joining Cavit in the centre of the Command area. She wasn’t about to lose her best friend to some subspace eddy. “How do we track it?” 

“Subspace scans,” Cavit said. “Range will be limited, but if we can figure out the eddy’s vector, we’ve got a shot at being prepared for the next time it pays a visit.” 

“Engineering to Bridge.” 

“Go ahead, Alex.” Cavit’s chin rose.

“Captain, I ran a plasma analysis of that wave. I know it’s not the primary issue, but if we could gather that plasma energy, we could replenish power reserves. Completely.”

That was definitely not something they could ignore. Ro glanced at Cavit, and he gave her a small nod of agreement. 

Cavit crossed his arms. “Initiate the subspace scans. We’ve got people to find and plasma to harvest.”

*

Doctor Jeff Fitzgerald stepped into Sickbay and allowed himself to feel the tug of loss that always accompanied coming into the space. If he was talking to someone in a session, and they’d lost their ability to do their original job in a specific place, that would be what he’d counsel: allow yourself the feel the loss, to grieve it, and—when you’re ready—move on after saying farewell. 

He hadn’t hit the farewell point yet. He was starting to think he never would, though at least now seeing Crewman Sullivan and Kes working side-by-side while they ran a scanner over Ensign Freddy Bristow’s forearm, his uniform tunic removed and his undershirt pushed up to his elbow, which revealed a long, dark purple bruise running the length of his forearm.

Not wanting to interrupt, Fitzgerald noticed Crewman Li-Paz and Ensign Tom Moore were standing to the side, and he joined them. Li-Paz, a dark-haired Bajoran systems engineer who was dating Kes, had a PADD in hand and stood patiently, while Moore, a stock, devastatingly good-looking blond human, was watching Kes and Sullivan work intently.

“Everything okay, gentleman?” he said quietly, joining them. With Taitt and Lan missing—not to mention an entire space station—he knew everyone’s minds were on the problem, but subspace eddies weren’t in his wheelhouse. 

The state of the crew, however, was. Moore usually worked with Lieutenant Cing’ta to monitor subspace chatter for any information they could glean about the people around them. He wasn’t sure what had brought him here, nor what was upsetting him.

“Freddy’s arm got jammed in a conduit during that jolt,” Moore said. “I was in the signal monitoring room and heard him. Getting his arm free took some muscle, but the conduit had a live feed and hull buckling, so I wasn’t gentle—I probably made the injury worse.”

Ah. There it was then. Moore, despite being a security officer with a high rating in a variety of combat techniques, preferred to use his strength to protect, not to harm.

“Bruised, and a hairline fracture,” Sullivan said, her voice carrying across the room, though she didn’t look up as she handed Kes a dermal regenerator. “Nothing to worry about, Tom.”

“It was the right choice,” Kes said, her own voice firm with surety. Fitzgerald felt a flash of pride at how focused and confidently she worked on Bristow’s arm. “Better a small break than a plasma burn, or worse.” 

Moore’s shoulders dropped with relief.

“Besides, it gives me another chance to convince Rebecca to go to dinner,” Bristow said, and Fitzgerald had to give the man credit for seizing the moment. Bristow had a bit of a baby-face going on, but he and Sullivan were about the same age. “So I owe you one, Tom.”

“Is everything okay, doctor?” Kes said, glancing at him.

“I just came to talk to you. And Li-Paz, actually, since you’re both here.” He nodded at the man, wondering if Li-Paz had also been on Deck fifteen. “But it can wait.”

“We’re almost done,” Sullivan said. 

Fitzgerald waited for them to finish with Bristow, who held out for a tentative agreement for an unspecified future dinner arrangement with Sullivan before he left alongside Moore, with instructions to check back in the morning. 

“What can we do for you, Doctor?” Kes said, coming over to him once she and Sullivan had put away their equipment. Fitzgerald noticed Li-Paz take her hand unconsciously, and he smiled at the obvious display of their affection and contentment.

Which made the next part kind of fun, actually.

“Well, I’ve officially moved in with my husband,” Fitzgerald said, smiling because using the word husband was another bit of fun he hadn’t expected, but was willing to enjoy. “So I have a present for you.”

Kes frowned, glancing at Li-Paz before turning her luminous blue eyes back in his direction. “I thought the human tradition was for people to give the newlyweds gifts?”

“I’m not one for most traditional things,” Fitzgerald said. “But here’s the thing: the chief medical officer’s quarters are now empty.” He smiled at her. “I know you’re not finished your residency yet, but I was thinking: you want them?”

She blinked, then a slow-smile spread across her face. “Your quarters?” 

“Technically, they’d be yours anyway, once you finish your residency and become ship’s surgeon, but I’m not sure I see a point in waiting.” He eyed Sullivan. “Assuming you don’t mind losing your roommate?”

“Kes is the greatest roommate I’ve ever had,” Sullivan said, with a wry smile of her own. “But if that means I get our quarters to myself, I am not knocking it.”

“And…” Kes turned to Li-Paz. “There’d be more than enough space for both of us,” she said. “I’m sure Chris would like quarters of his own, too.” 

“Great,” Li-Paz said, though his voice rose a notch above his usual softness. “That’s… great. Great.” He nodded. “Great.” 

Fitzgerald winced. Four greats was… not great.

Kes, however, just beamed at him. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re very welcome,” Fitzgerald said, trying not to notice how flushed Li-Paz was getting. 

“I was going to ask the doctor if he’d mind helping me, Cabot, and Ashmore with our holoprogram,” Li-Paz said, as though he knew he needed to break the silence. “I’ll just… go activate him.” He squeezed Kes’s hand visibly, bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss, and then stepped into the office, calling for the computer to activate Emmett’s program. 

Fitzgerald exchanged a glance with Sullivan, and she raised her eyebrows. He’d intended the quarters to be a good thing, but Li-Paz seemed spooked.

“I’m sorry if I caught you both off-guard,” Fitzgerald said, though he didn’t think Kes had minded at all.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Kes said, her soft voice gentle, patient, and more than a little loving as she looked through the window to where Li-Paz was in conversation with Emmett, who looked personally delighted at whatever Li-Paz was requesting. “Paz will spend some time worrying about change—he always does, since so much of the change in his youth was negative—and then he’ll realize he’s up for the challenge, as usual, then admit he was afraid he’d make some sort of mistake, even though we’ve talked about living together already, and then he’ll be fine.” She smiled at Fitzgerald. “It’ll take him a day or so. Thank you, again.” Then she walked into the lab to deal with something.

“Huh,” Sullivan said, then leaned in close to him, dropping her voice. “Dating a telepath sure seems to save a lot of time.”

“No kidding,” Fitzgerald said. “So. Dinner with Freddy Bristow, huh?” 

She eyed him. “Should I be worried?”

Fitzgerald shook his head, confused. “No. Why?” 

She exhaled. “I’m neither as perceptive as Kes nor self-aware as Li-Paz,” she said, crossing her arms. “And there’s Simon, back in the Alpha Quadrant.” She took a breath. “I don’t know if he’s waiting for me, or not. And, Simon Hogan is a lot like me. Whereas Freddy is…” Her lips turned to one side, like she couldn’t quite find the right words. “Earnest.” 

“Seems to me blunt and earnest should pair together well,” Fitzgerald said, raising one shoulder.

Sullivan punched it.

*

“Your metaphasic shield configuration continues to hold,” Allac Taga said. The Vostigye’s ears had slowly risen again over the last hour, which Taitt decided was a sign his initial panic and fear was fading. “Confining everyone to four decks has allowed us to reduce the energy drain on the station’s fusion reactors.” 

“Good,” Taitt said. She didn’t blame the Vostigye for their fearful reaction. It wasn’t every day your space station was suddenly engulfed by plasma streams. The shields had almost immediately  buckled under the heat and radiation before Taitt realized an Enterprise D trick was exactly what was needed.

Metaphasic shielding. A Ferengi invention capable of withstanding the heat and radiation of a star. Intended for scientific stellar survey, it had just saved their life—and the station—though it had been a close call. The outer hull of the station had been warped or breached in multiple locations, though the inner hull had held. 

Still, those sections were now sealed off.

“The temperature reading is nine million Kelvin,” Lan said from where she was side-by-side with another of the Vositgye scientists, a woman named Immi Varra. 

“I don’t know how your shields are handling this,” Varra added.

“It’s a configuration I learned about a few years ago, on the other side of the galaxy,” Taitt said. “I’m just glad it was up to the challenge, and before we lost too much of the outer hull.” She stepped away from the shield controls and joined Varra and Lan at the engineering systems console. “Are we able to get a picture of where we are?” 

“We lost part of one of the arrays before you modified the shields,” Taga said. “But we should be able to construct an image of our current location easily enough.” He tapped on the sensor interfaces and then glance up at the holographic display. 

Taitt stared in wonder. 

“It’s like being in the middle of a giant plasma storm in the Badlands,” Lan said. “Only there’s an eye, and we’re smack-dab in the centre.” 

That about summed it up. Massive discharges of plasmatic energy were shifting all around them, though the station itself was relatively removed from it all, and while there were occasional bits of other materials out there amongst the plasma, mostly it was just light, heat, and energy…

“Where are the stars?” Varra said.

Taitt realized the scientist was correct: beyond the plasma storms, there was no sign of stellar bodies. In fact, there was no signs of much else, except…

“We’re not in space,” Taitt said, pointing. “This is some sort of spatial pocket, or…” She turned to Taga. “Can you give me a gravimetric analysis?”

“Of course.” He worked the console, and a series of coloured curves began to overlap the images she saw in the holographic display.

“That’s not subspace, either,” Lan said.

“It looks like an interfold layer,” Taitt said, stepping closer to the display. “We’re not in space or subspace, but somewhere between, and that plasma is moving between the two.”

“Great,” Lan said, deadpan. “How do we get out?”

Taitt sighed. “I’m not sure. But we can start by learning everything we can about where we are.”

“I’ve initiated a broad-spectrum sweep,” Taga said. “It should pick up anything anomalous.” 

They waited while the display updated, and there was no denying the station was warmer than it had been an hour ago. At least the metaphasic shields kept the radiation at bay, but they’d all be uncomfortable soon enough, even with the station’s environmental systems doing its best to keep up with the plasma raging outside. 

“What’s that?” Lan said. She tapped on the console, highlighting what looked like metal, floating in the relative eye of the storm, like the station itself. 

“Analyzing,” Varra said. 

“Polyduranide,” Lan said, noting the elements as their makeup listed on the display. “Duranium. Tritanium…” As more elemental compositions displayed, she turned to Taitt, her eyes wide. “Are you seeing this?”

Taitt nodded, feeling the weight of what she was seeing settle in her chest. “I am.”

“Something troubles you?” Varra said, her voice undulating softly with the question.

“Everything in that piece of metal is something we use to build our ships,” Taitt said. 

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Alexander Honigsberg, Chief of Engineering of the Federation Starship Voyager, needed a better understanding of theoretical subspace interactions, a healthy top-up of warp plasma, and a nap.

And probably not in that order. 

He’d moved to Stellar Cartography, where he’d been joined by, Captain Cavit, the Stellar Cartography team, and Sublieutenant Velar, one of the Vulcans they’d rescued from the Tal-Shiar-slash-Obsidian-Order ship near Rakosa. The lab had the best sensors—and people—to deal with the astral eddy. 

The sensor readings of when the astral eddy was open filled the main display, while the smaller monitors displayed the data Voyager’s sensors captured as the eddy seemed to just wink out of existence. He eyed both in turn, considering. 

“It didn’t… go to subspace,” he said, stifling a small cough. He glanced up and saw Captain Cavit watching him with slightly narrowed eyes, but at least the Captain didn’t tell him to leave. 

Not yet, at least. 

“I agree,” Velar said. They were lucky to have her. The stocky, dark-skinned Vulcan woman didn’t have much in the way of social graces, but she had a grasp of unified field theory—and subspace theoretics—that outstripped his own. “None of the expected traces of such a transition are present.”

“But when it was open, we were definitely seeing an interaction with subspace,” Ensign Michael Murphy said. He had a hard, grim look about him today, which Honigsberg put down to the current unknown whereabouts of Sahreen Lan. “The plasma interaction was subspace in manner, and the expulsion ring—or whatever we’re calling it—”

“Radial plasma discharge,” Velar said, and Honigsberg saw Murphy’s jaw clench.

“—absolutely came from subspace,” Murphy finished.

Okay, maybe her lack of social graces was wearing a little thin with the Stellar Cartography crew, then. 

“It also generated a kind of warp effect, and moved,” Cavit said. “And the subspace scanners did pick that up.”

“So we need to figure out what can interact with subspace and space, produce plasma, create a natural warp field effect, and find a way to trigger it ourselves,” Ensign Therese Hickman said. A slight woman with warm brown skin, brown eyes, and brightly dyed red hair, she’d shown up early for her shift and joined them without a word. 

They all fell quiet, looking at the displays. Honigsberg stifled another cough. 

“Interfold.”

They all turned to Abol. His dark brown eyes were locked on the sensor readings of the closure of the astral eddy. Honigsberg tried to make his brain dredge up something about the concept, but beyond some theoretical papers he obviously should have paid better attention to, he wasn’t getting much.

“Sorry,” Honigsberg said. “You mean a layer between space and subspace, is that what you’re saying?”

“You believe the astral eddies are forming from an interaction between space and subspace in a separate layer,” Velar said. 

“It fits the data, though I admit there’s a lot of guesswork, too,” Abol said, glancing at the rest of them.

“Having a theory to start with is fine by me,” Cavit said. “How do we go about—”

He was interrupted by a jolt, and they all nearly lost their feet. Honigsberg only remained upright thanks to Murphy, who’d grabbed his arm with his free hand while gripping the bulkhead with the other.

“Cavit to Bridge,” Cavit said. “Report.”

“Another anomaly just appeared, Captain,” Ro said. “We’re far enough away to weather the plasma, but the gravimetric effect is larger this time.”

“Let’s take this to the Bridge,” Cavit said to the group, then eyed Honigsberg. “Alex, one second.”

The others left, and Honigsberg raised his hand in surrender. “I’ll go to Sickbay.” 

Cavit gripped his shoulders with both hands. “Thank you,” he said, his voice softening. “Nicoletti can handle Deck fifteen. I need you better, and if that means you wait another week—”

“Another week?”

“—or a day or two,” Cavit said, his voice a little less soft now. “Then that’s what it takes.”

Honigsberg wanted to sigh, but he knew if he did he’d cough, which would only underline Cavit’s point. He managed a nod.

“Aye, Captain.”

Cavit left, and Honigsberg started the long walk to Sickbay, tapping his combadge to let Nicoletti know she and Chapman were in charge. 

Again.

*

“Scans?” Cavit said, stepping onto the Bridge and noting that Murphy, Abol, Hickman, and Velar were all at the Science station already, Velar seated while the others stood behind her, Murphy reaching over her to cycle through sensors on the upper display, and Abol staring at the viewscreen, a fierce look of concentration on his face.

“It’s a little larger this time,” Simmonds said. “And the plasma eruption disc is of an order of magnitude greater.”

“So we don’t want to get any closer,” Ro said, with her usual dry delivery. 

Cavit had to agree. “What about a probe—can we get close enough to launch one?”

“It’ll be bumpy,” Stadi said. “But I can surf the gravimetric waves.”

“Go ahead,” Cavit said, taking his seat and nodding at Ro, who tapped her shipboard comm channel open.

“All crew, brace for turbulence,” she said.

No sooner were the words out than Voyager started to shake and jolt. 

“When I said surf, I may have been a little optimistic,” Stadi said. “More like skipping a stone, maybe.”

“Got it,” Cavit said, then glanced at Abol. “Any luck, Abol?”

He bit his bottom lip. “May I ask the Chorus to help me?” 

Cavit nodded. “Of course.”

Abol tapped his combadge, and quietly called for the other Ocampa on board. He didn’t, however, call them to the Bridge, Cavit noticed, instead just asking them if they were able to join him in their telepathic group. 

He hadn’t realized they’d reached the point where they could do that across the ship. He’d thought they needed to be close to each other. 

“Is the anomaly showing any motion?” Ro said.

“We’re keeping pace,” Simmons said. “I think the natural warp field it creates only really comes into effect when it closes, and not for long.”

“The ensign is correct,” Velar said from the Science station. “All telemetry indicates the closing of the event creates a short warp effect.” 

Voyager jolted and shuddered again. Cavit looked at the anomaly on the viewscreen, erupting in an hourglass-like shape, surrounded by that ring of burning plasma.

“That’s as close as I want to bring her,” Stadi said.

“Scott?” Ro said.

“Launching probe,” Rollins said.

“Signal received,” Velar said. “Interior temperature gradient is nine million Kelvin.”

“The plasmatic energy discharges are intense,” Hickman said. 

“There’s and exchange of matter between space and subspace going on inside the anomaly,” Simmons said.

“And what looks to maybe be a calm eye at the centre,” Murphy added.

“Abol?” Cavit said, rising from his chair, but Crewman Abol Tay didn’t respond. 

“He’s already gone, Captain,” Stadi said. “I’m keeping my attention on the helm, but I felt him go.”

“He went in there?” Cavit said, aiming a finger at the anomaly.

“He believes Taitt’s in there,” Stadi said softly. Her dark eyes flicked to meet his gaze long enough for him to realize Abol might have sensed Lieutenant Taitt in there, but Stadi hadn’t. 

“I think I’m getting metallic readings in the calm area,” Simmons said.

“That is correct,” Velar said. “I am adjusting the probe’s sensors to compensate for the discharges to get a clearer image.” 

“Nicely done,” Cavit said, but that only earned him a slight eyebrow raise from the Vulcan woman. “Can we tell if it’s the shuttle or the—”

The anomaly vanished.

And Crewman Abol Tay toppled over backwards.

*

Daggin had drawn the Chorus together from their disparate parts of the ship after sitting and clearing his mind. Cir and Eru were in the Garden, Gara was in Cargo Bay One with Chief McMinn, Kes in Sickbay, and Abol on the Bridge. The distance made creating their connection somewhat more difficult, but it was a skill Lieutenant Stadi had tasked them with practicing, and they’d risen to the challenge.

I’m with you, too.

Setok’s thoughts sent a wave of both surprise and pride through Daggin, though perhaps the surprise was misplaced. Ever since Setok’s experiences on the Taresian homeworld, Daggin’s son seemed more determined than ever to explore his Vulcan and Ocampa heritage; most specifically, he seemed more willing to investigate how the telepathic abilities of both seemed to interact with each other in a way that strengthened both halves.

A moment later, the seven of them were outside Voyager—telepathically projected, of course, not in reality—and witnessing the anomaly ahead of the starship. Abol’s mind took the lead in directing them, as was usual when they wished to go elsewhere, and it was also his thoughts giving them the context.

We’ll need to go into the eye. Abol was already moving them, and his confidence helped them step past the overwhelming sight of so much energy and power erupting seemingly out of nowhere. 

I can feel minds. Eru’s voice now. Of them all, she tended to find distance the least limiting. Beyond the threshold.

Abol brought them down, swooping from where they formed their point of perception and into the anomaly, and though Daggin had no physical eyes present, only mental ones, he had to fight off the urge to blink rapidly at the blinding wall of plasma and energy erupting all around him. 

There, Setok’s voice came with a sense of direction, and Daggin aimed his perception that way. In the calm beyond the endless flare of plasma, what could only be the Vostigye space station lay before them, the cylinder of it hanging crooked relative to their point of view, and its scarred hull and one shortened, broken array of three revealing damage, but a field surrounded the station, visibly interacting with the occasional twist of plasma that flicked inward toward the calm space in the centre of the anomaly.

They raised shields in time, then. Gara’s thoughts held relief. 

To the station, Abol’s words weren’t just relieved, they were joyful.

This time the transition was almost instant, as they had a specific destination in mind, and could see the uppermost part of the station. One moment they were out in the roiling plasma. The next they were on the station itself, and…

Daggin could not have told anyone where his own relief ended and Abol’s began, but both Ensign Sahreen Lan and Lieutenant Zandra Taitt were in the station’s operations room, clearly working with the slender-eared Vostigye, and though they’d removed their uniform jackets and it was obviously far warmer than likely comfortable given how much both were sweating, they were alive, and they were working, and—

Something shifted, and then Daggin was back in his quarters, where he nearly fell from his chair. The psychic whiplash made him grimace, and his sense of balance, of up-and-down, and his vision all dulled to the point of vertigo.

“Daggin?” T’Prena’s hand on his shoulder was supportive and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he managed, after a moment. “Something dissolved the Chorus, and we weren’t prepared.” He blinked, opening his eyes. “I’m all right now.”

“The anomaly closed,” T’Prena said, turning to the window of their quarters. Beyond, there was nothing but stars.

*

“It’s gone again,” Stadi said, glancing to where Murphy was helping Abol stand. She knew she couldn’t leave the Conn, but the urge to make sure Abol and the others were okay was as strong as always, not just as their telepathic mentor, but their friend.

“You okay, Abol?” Cavit said. 

“Something broke the Chorus apart. It was… abrupt.” He tugged his uniform jacket down, and offered a small nod at Stadi, no doubt sensing her concern.

I am fine.

Good. “The anomaly closed,” she said.

“They’re in there, Captain,” Abol said. “The station is intact, though damaged. And Ensign Lan and Lieutenant Taitt are both working with the Vostigye.” 

“Good,” Cavit said. “Now we just need to figure out how to get them out of there.”

“The probe is gone,” Simmons said. 

Stadi checked her navigational sensors, and sure enough, the probe had vanished from them.

Ro rose from her chair. “Destroyed?”

“I’m not seeing debris,” Rollins said.

“Curious.” Velar’s voice caught all of their attention. “I am still receiving telemetry from the probe.”

Stadi checked her sensors again, and saw Velar was right. The probe data was still coming in, albeit with quite a lot of interference. “Where is it?” she said.

“I believe this proves Crewman Tay’s theory,” Velar said. “The probe has been pulled into an unstable interfold layer.”

Stadi exhaled. “So it’s not in space or subspace.”

“Correct,” Velar said.

“Do we have a vector on the anomaly?” Ro said.

“Yes, Commander,” Simmons said. “We can follow it.” A moment later, the heading appeared on Stadi’s console.

“Do it,” Cavit said, and Stadi got them underway. Given what she remembered about abnormal subspace topology from her piloting courses, she knew they had their work cut out for them.

How were they going to pull a space station out of a dimensional pocket?

*

“You okay?”

In Sahreen Lan’s experience, Lieutenant Zandra Taitt didn’t lose her focus or her comportment, but just now, the dark-skinned human had seemed distracted.

“I thought I heard…” Taitt said, then shook her head. “Nothing. Probably the heat.”

It was hot in the operations room, though at least it wasn’t getting worse now. They’d collected all the Vostigye into three interior spaces, which let them focus the environmental systems on such a small portion of the station they were merely dealing with a constant of only forty-one degrees.

“You’re handling it better than I am,” Lan said. “Trill are not made for heat.” 

“Do you need to stop for a few minutes?” Taitt said, eyeing her with concern.

“I’m just complaining,” Lan shook her head. She pushed her hair off her forehead, and got back to the problem in from of them: finding out if that piece of metal came from Voyager. If it did, it would mean bad things for their chances of a rescue, but they needed to know. “What about beaming the debris onto the station with the shuttle’s transporters?”

“We can’t beam through the shields,” Taitt said.

“The station could handle it for the few seconds it will take,” Lan said. “Now we’re in the eye, and we’ve evacuated everyone to these interior spaces…”

“There’s radiation to consider, too,” Taitt said, but she sounded a little less certain now.

Lan took a breath. “I know Starfleet frowns on this sort of risk,” she said. “But the dose of radiation we’d get won’t be enough to do damage, and we need to know if that lump of metal is from Voyager.”

Taitt exhaled. “You’re right. I’m just trying to think of a way that doesn’t involve putting us at any greater risk.”

“I’m not sure that’s an option,” Lan said. “We’re trapped in an unstable layer between space and subspace. I don’t think we’re looking at a by-the-book solution.” 

Taitt laughed. “Can you hear the joy in your voice whenever you point out Starfleet protocols aren’t going to apply? Because I can.” 

Lan lifted her shoulder. “What can I say? It’s the Kejal in me. He hated rules.” Also, this was the only way she could think of to find out if it was possible Michael was hurt. If that debris was from Voyager…

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s the Sahreen in you, too,” Taitt said, shaking her head. “But you’re both right.” She turned to the Vostigye scientists. “How quickly can you restore the shields once you bring them down?” 

Taga and Varra exchanged a glance before Varra spoke, her ears only trembling slightly. “I believe I can restore them in less than twenty-four seconds.”

“Do we have any data on how often those plasma twists come into the calm close enough to strike the station?” 

“So far, not more than once every thirty-one minutes,” Taga said.

“I like those odds,” Lan said. A twenty-four second window was nothing, and the station had barely taken any damage since the shields had gotten them through to the calm in the centre of the anomaly. 

“Of course you do.” Taitt scoffed. “Okay, we’ll need to get down to the shuttle and—”

A console bleeped.

“Lieutenant,” Varra said, turning to face the readout. “Something just joined us in the anomaly.”

“What is it?” Lan said. Could it be Voyager? 

The Vostigye woman tapped on the control panel and a holographic image appeared over the central display.

Lan smiled. 

“It’s a probe,” she said, looking at the slender device on the display. She glanced at Taitt. “Voyager’s out there.”

Taitt nodded at her. 

Lan turned back to the probe, considering. If it could get in, then they sure as hell could get out. 

Right?

Chapter Text

The more Lieutenant Veronica Stadi listened to Velar, Murphy, Abol, and Hickman, the more she didn’t like what she was hearing. They thought they were dealing with some sort of subspace anomaly that was opening and closing, but from what they’d picked up from the probe, that didn’t sound like it was the case after all.

“So you’re saying these eruptions are a side-effect, not the anomaly itself?” she said, turning in her chair slightly to ask the question.

“Correct,” Velar said. “The anomaly is not intermittent, but an ongoing interfold layer hosting an interaction of matter between space and subspace.”

“What we’re seeing is like… backfire,” Murphy said, lifting one hand. “Or a pan of boiling water sloshing over the top occasionally.”

“Which is when there’s an opening to that interfold layer,” Ro said. “Otherwise, we have no way to get to the station or our people.”

“Correct,” Velar said again.

Stadi looked back at her readings. “We can keep pace with it.”

“I believe that is because it is reaching the end of its existence,” Velar said, and Stadi felt the worry and shock that ran through everyone else on the Bridge at her words, which apparently wasn’t lost on Velar either, as she added, “There is no immediate danger of the interfold layer collapsing. I meant only that it likely previously moved at extremely high speeds when it first formed.”

“It’s running out of oomph,” Murphy said. “But that’s on a scale of decades, not hours or days.”

Stadi tried not to aim an annoyed glance Velar’s way. Vulcans. For an unemotional species, they sure did ramp up everyone else’s emotion on the regular.

“Okay,” Cavit said. “How clear a reading do we have on the station?”

“The probe places it more-or-less in the central, calm area of the interfold layer,” Abol said. “But the interference makes it hard to see much else.”

“What about life-signs?” Ro said. “The Chorus saw Taitt and Lan and some of the Vostigye, but can we get a count?”

Velar turned back to her station and worked for a moment. “I believe I am reading sixty-two life-signs.” 

Stadi eyed the viewscreen, seeing only the usual stars of space, even though the interfold layer existed—sort of—in front of them. She couldn’t sense anyone there, either. If it wasn’t for the probe sending them telemetry, she’d have sworn there was nothing—and no-one—there.

“Can we bounce a comm signal through the probe?” she said. “Like we did with the Equinox?” A few months after they’d arrived in the Delta Quadrant, they’d had a brief period of contact with another ship taken from the Alpha Quadrant, the USS Equinox. They’d picked up one of her long-range probes and had managed to use it to extend the range of their communications to reach the ship herself.

“Simmons?” Cavit said, glancing at the ensign on Ops.

“Maybe,” Simmons said, after a moment. “The interference from the interfold layer has blurred the outbound telemetry, but perhaps if we tried an inverse curve on a hail?” She lifted her gaze from her panel, and Stadi didn’t need telepathy to know she wasn’t confident in the approach. 

“Try it,” Cavit said.

“Adjusting the comms,” Simmons said, then she glanced at the Tactical station. “It’s ready, Lieutenant.”

“Hailing,” Rollins said. 

Seconds ticked by. 

“I don’t know if it’s getting through, Captain,” Simmons said, shaking her head.

“The probe’s signal strength is at less then twenty percent.” Hickman pushed a strand of her dyed red hair behind one ear, and pointed at the display on the Science Station. “And it’s designed to send data much further than a hail is.”

“You think we need a stronger signal,” Ro said.

“The data supports Ensign Hickman’s supposition,” Velar said. 

“Bridge to Engineering,” Cavit said. “Nicoletti, any chance we could boost our outbound comm signal strength?” 

“If you mean through to the other side of that anomaly, Captain, I’m not sure.” Stadi knew Lieutenant Junior Grade Susan Nicoletti well enough to know she wasn’t pleased to be admitting it. “I can try, but from what we’re seeing here, there’s a refractry dissipation effect on the telemetry from the probe, so closer might be more effective than stronger.”

Cavit crossed his arms. “Except that puts Voyager right in the potential line of fire of those eddies.” 

“Agreed.”

Stadi looked at her sensor logs again, confirmed what she was seeing about the waves of distortion that had erupted each time, then turned in her chair. “Captain, the Savitskaya could handle it much better than Voyager can—a type-9 shuttle could bob and weave between the wavefronts if it had to. Ensign Jetal and I could do it—I’ll fly, and she’ll handle the comms.” She’d worked with Jetal on a number of occasions now, and they made a good team.

Cavit’s pale blue eyes flicked to the viewscreen, then settled back on Stadi. “All right.” 

“The radiation is probably more than a shuttle’s shields can handle,” Ro said, though Stadi sensed Ro wasn’t disagreeing with the move. “You and Jetal stop by Sickbay first. See what they’ve got to give you the time you need.”

Stadi nodded, and was already on her way, tapping her combadge to reach Jetal in the Main Shuttlebay.

*

Lieutenant Alexander Honigsberg sat on the bio-bed and swung his legs back and forth. Across from him, Kes ran her medical tricorder scanner up and across his chest. Again. He tried to glance through the windows into the Medical Office, to see if he could read the expressions on T’Prena or Daggin’s faces—they were talking to Emmett, and really, there could be only one reason for that—but he couldn’t see either of them. 

Also, probably T’Prena wouldn’t have shown much even if he could have spotted her.

“Your blood oxygenation level is at eighty-nine percent,” Kes said, snapping his attention from a new potential Voyager baby back to his own health issues.

“That isn’t bad for me,” Honigsberg said. “Right? I remember it being eighty-eight when my lung was first removed.”

“That’s true,” Kes said, sliding the sensor into the slot and closing the tricorder. “But it rose to ninety-two percent within a month, and you’ve more-or-less stayed in the low ninety percents since.”

“So… this isn’t good.” Honigsberg regarded her. “But it will get better again? I feel okay since you gave me that hypo.”

“The triox helped,” Kes said. “But I’m going to show your results to Doctor Fitzgerald and Doctor Hall, Alex.”

“Because…?” Honigsberg frowned. 

“I think it might be worth revisiting the idea of an implant,” Kes said. 

Honigsberg took a moment to consider that. “I thought artificial lungs were a bad idea since we’re on the wrong side of the galaxy.” He tilted his head. “I remember when Durst’s lungs were stolen, Doctor Fitzgerald said something about wanting experts around, and problems with maintenance and upkeep or something?”

“In his case, Lieutenant Durst had no lungs,” Kes said. “So if he had any issues, it would be immediately life-threatening. You have one healthy lung.”

“So this would be, what, like a secondary warp core?” Honigsberg said, cracking a smile. 

“More like backup environmental systems,” Kes said, lifting one shoulder. “Doctor Hall is more than capable for the implantation and all the maintenance required for artificial organs.” She put one hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “But it may not come to it. They might decide an ongoing triox regimen or a breather is a better option. I just want to discuss it with them.”

Honigsberg scoffed. “We both know you’re a medical genius, Kes. If this is what you think we should do, they’re going to agree.”

“Well,” Kes said, demurring. “We’ll see.”

Honigsberg was about to reply when Daggin and T’Prena left the office, and the emergency medical hologram, Emmett, came out after them. 

“Thank you, doctor,” T’Prena said, with no inflection whatsoever. 

Okay. If he was going to figure this out, he needed better intel. Wait. He faced Kes, and saw her meet Daggin’s gaze, and then saw her lips turn up in a small smile and the sparkle in Daggin’s eyes—both of which vanished when they caught him watching.

“Ah-ha!” Honigsberg said, with all the drama of a holonovel detective gathering his suspects. “So we have a new baby reporting for duty, do we?” 

“Your assumption is, in fact, incorrect,” T’Prena said, and the Vulcan woman was already half-way through the door before Honigsberg could gather his horrified thoughts into some coherence.

Oh God. Was that bad news? He didn’t know. Why did he go and stick his foot in his mouth?

“Oh, T’Prena, Daggin, I’m—” he started, but then Daggin stepped out into the hallway beside T’Prena, and turned to look at him long enough to smile and raise one hand, holding up two fingers just before the Sickbay doors closed behind them.

It took a second to process.

“Twins,” he said, then frowned at Kes. “Why would T’Prena—?”

“You said ‘a new baby.’ Singular.” Emmett said, shaking his head. “Nurse T’Prena was quite right in pointing out your assumption was incorrect.” 

“Who says Vulcans don’t have a sense of humour?” Honigsberg said, laughing. 

“Doctor,” Kes said. “If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss Alex’s blood oxygenation.” 

“She wants to put some tech in here,” Honigsberg said, tapping himself in the centre of his chest.

The doors to Sickbay opened again, and Lieutenant Stadi and Ensign Ahni Jetal arrived together. 

“Doctor,” Stadi said. “Kes. We’re about to head out in a shuttle—towards the interfold layer—and we’re hoping you’ve got something we can use to deal with the radiation.”

“I’m missing all the fun,” Honigsberg said, sighing. 

*

“So far, hyronalin? Not my favourite,” Ensign Ahni Jetal said from the Ops seat of the Savitskaya once they’d cleared Voyager’s shuttlebay. Jetal’s thoughts were slightly more frenetic than usual for the shuttle engineer.

Stadi could relate. She felt like she’d just chugged two mochas—the delightful mix of coffee-and-chocolate Lieutenant Taitt had introduced her to—and followed it up with one of Eru’s sugary cupcakes she made for crew celebrating their birthdays. 

“At least we know we won’t fall asleep at the controls,” Stadi said.

“Or tonight, at bedtime,” Jetal said, with a dry, amused smile. “I’ve modified the shields and boosted the comm output as high as I can without burning out the transmitter. How close do we want to get to…” She pointed out the viewscreen. “The nothing at all where the telemetry is coming from.”

“How do you feel about five hundred metres?” Stadi said, adjusting the course.

“Have I told you how much I enjoy our shuttle missions, Lieutenant?” Jetal said, chuckling and working her panel. “I’m narrowing the signal into a tight beam delivery mode. That might help counter some of the diffusive effect.”  

If she hadn’t had her sensors to work with, Stadi would have agreed with Jetal—they were approaching nothing at all, as far as her eyes could see—but once the Savitskaya was in position, she took a breath. “Okay, this is as close as I’d like to be. If I see any sign of an eruption, I’ll punch it.”

“Sending the hail,” Jetal said, glancing at Stadi. “Go ahead.”

“Stadi to Taitt,” Stadi said. “Do you read me?” 

A moment later, her sensors trilled out multiple warnings as the nothing-at-all released another astral eddy, faster than they’d seen it happen before. She tapped in an evasive pattern, but the pilot in her knew she was already too late, even as she shifted into high impulse.

*

“Our signal is reaching the probe, but I don’t think it’s escaping the interfold layer,” Taitt said, frowning at the display. “Look at what happens the closer the probe’s telemetry gets to the outer edge of the plasma interaction.” 

Lan looked at the readings and saw it right away. The signal went from being a coherent stream to a quickly fraying thread. Bouncing a comm signal through the probe had been a good idea, but they’d have to be much, much closer to the probe, and use more power.

“There is a diffusive effect,” Targa said, his ears flicking back and then up again in a repeating pattern that Lan was starting to think of as the Vostigye equivalent of pacing back and forth. “Can we compensate or adjust the signal somehow?” 

“If we parked our shuttle near the probe.” Lan wiped sweat from her forehead and wished she’d brought a better hair clip. Not that there was truly a hair clip out there capable of handling her curls. Her curls laughed at the very idea of structural integrity. “It could give us the signal strength we need.”

“You’re right. There’s only so much we can do with the Shuttle’s shields, though,” Taitt said, sighing. “Ideally…” She shook her head, and raised her hand. “Never mind. I know. This isn’t ideal.”

“Real life rarely is,” Lan said, staring at the signal data. Was there another way, though? 

“Another object has appeared,” Immi Varra said, her ears rising in unison. “I’m detecting a power source. It is moving clear of the outer plasma interaction… It’s a small vessel.”

“That’s one of ours,” Lan said. 

“Stadi to Taitt,” Stadi’s voice crackled with static, but it was clear enough. “Do you read me?”

“We do,” Taitt said, smiling and raising her chin slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Rough ride, but shields are holding,” Stadi said. “And we weren’t intending to visit, only to get close enough to say hello, but we’re definitely close enough to the probe to try and reach Voyager.”

“I’m sending you a metaphasic modulation,” Taitt said, stepping up to one of the panels. “It’s the most effective option inside this anomaly.”

“Got it,” another voice, Ensign Ahni Jetal, came over the channel. “Adjusting modulation.”

“Voyager, can you read us?” Stadi said, and Lan took a breath, exchanging a glance with Taitt and hoping they were about to hear more friendly voices.

“We read you,” Cavit’s voice was even more crackly than Stadi’s had been, but it was clear enough to understand. “We lost you off our sensors. What’s your status?”

“We’re inside the interfold layer, and we’ve made contact with Taitt and Lan,” Stadi said.

“Captain,” Taitt said. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too, Lieutenant,” Cavit said. “Any chance you’ve got a plan for me?” 

“Not yet,” Taitt said. “We’ve got sixty Vostigye and Lan and I here. Getting a shuttle in or out might be one thing, but the whole station...?” She let the words drift off. 

Lan looked at the comm signal on her panel—less frayed because of the lack of distance between the shuttle and the probe—and a thought occurred to her. 

Distance.

She looked at the display, then back at the holographic map of the star system they’d been scanning before they’d been tugged into this anomaly in the first place. It was crisp, and focused, despite being a reading taken from multiple sectors away and…

“Captain, I have an idea,” Lan said, and the attention of everyone in the room swivelled her way, a wave of flicking ears and one human’s dark brown eyes. “But I think you’re going to hate it.”

Chapter Text

“You want to beam everyone out?” Honigsberg stared at the ceiling in the Briefing Room, where the Senior Staff—minus Stadi, Lan, and Taitt—were gathered. “From inside the interfold layer?”

“Yes,” Lan said. “We’ve got two shuttles on this side. If you park more immediately on the other edge, we should be able to use the Vostigye station’s arrays to maintain transporter resolution for the distance between the station and the shuttles inside the layer. Then they can pass the patterns into the shuttles on the other side, and from there to Voyager.” She paused. “If you can’t get Voyager close enough, you might have to add another stopover in another shuttle, but you get the idea.”

“Was the idea to break every transporter protocol in the book?” Honigsberg said.

“Technically I’m not adjusting the Heisenberg compensator.” Lan’s voice was dry.

“Alex, can it be done?” Cavit said.

“I mean, it can.” Honigsberg took a second to allow himself to consider doing something he’d never have suggested and let out a slow, even breath. “I haven’t seen the Vostigye tech, but if it has the ability to clarify a signal the way they’re saying it does…”

“It can,” Taitt’s voice added to the conversation. “We have clear views of systems multiple sectors away, via a subspace lensing effect. That same principle can be applied to the transporter signal.” 

“So you’re in agreement here, Taitt?” Ro said, and Honigsberg knew it would carry a lot of weight with the first officer if she did.

“I am,” Taitt said. “It’s the only solution I can see to get the Vostigye clear that doesn’t involve trying to pierce the interfold barrier multiple times with the shuttles, which I’m not sure would withstand that many crossings. And once we beam out the Vostigye, then we just need to wait for an astral eddy, and attempt to ride our way out.” 

“Jetal thinks it might be possible to trigger an eddy with a tight beam emission,” Stadi said, adding her voice to the conversation. “She thinks that’s what brought us in in the first place.” 

“How soon can we get this ready?” Cavit said.

Honigsberg considered it. “I’d like to run a diagnostic on the pattern buffers in the other shuttles, and reinforce the transfer protocol. Passing someone between buffers is usually only done in an emergency…” He took a moment to consider. “Tamal, Canamar, Martin and I should be able to get it done in twenty minutes?”

“Fine,” Cavit said, nodding. “Taitt, how about your end?”

“We’ll be ready,” Taitt said. “Oh, and Captain, there’s something else in here with us that I’d like to add to the list, if it’s possible. We’ve detected what might be Federation debris in the interfold layer, and I’d like to beam it aboard for analysis.”

What? Honigsberg glanced around the table, and caught Cavit’s eyes widening, but that was his only tell. 

“Once we’ve got the Vostigye out,” Cavit said.

“Of course,” Taitt said.

“Let’s get to work,” Cavit said, rising. 

Honigsberg touched Rollins’s shoulder before the tactical officer could leave. “I’ll be in the Shuttlebay,” he said, waiting until Fitzgerald, Cavit, and Ro had left the Briefing Room to continue. “If you hear anything else about this debris…?”

“I’ll let you know,” Rollins said, nodding.

*

Sahreen Lan reinitialized the Yang’s transporters for a third time, watching the system cycle through a diagnostic mode and cleared the initial warning pointing out the system was compromised, and outside technology had access to the transporter emitter array.

“I know,” she muttered. “I’m the one who compromised it.” She tapped in a simple targeting scan, and bit her bottom lip as the transporter system shook hands with the remaining two lensing arrays on the Vostigye station and… 

The indicators all flicked from amber to pale yellow. “It worked,” Lan said. “I’ve got the outbound transporter pattern routed through the Vostigye arrays.” She turned to the rear of the Yang, where the ramp was down, revealing the Vostigye station’s shuttlebay, and the first group of the furred, slender-eared aliens themselves stood with Taitt, who had her tricorder out and was side-by-side with Targa at the wall console. 

“It looks stable,” Taitt said.

Lan tapped her combadge. “Lan to Stadi.”

“Go ahead.”

“We’re ready for a trial run on our end,” she nodded to Varra, and the scientist stepped forward with a potted, flowing plant. It had wilted somewhat in the heat, but it was still a living, biological thing they could send through this plan of hers. 

“We’re in position,” Stadi said. “Trumari and Canamar have the Kondakova immediately on the other side, and Bogdanowicz and Martin have the Kelly in position between the Kondakova and Voyager.”

“Lan to Voyager,” Lan said, lifting her chin. “We’re ready on our end.”

“We’re ready here, too, Ensign.” Cavit’s voice crackled, and Lan tried to ignore it, what with the whole let’s try and send something far, far more complicated than a comm signal through the same interference thing. Still, she also heard his confidence. “Chief Tamal and Lieutenant Honigsberg are in position in Transporter Room One, and Doctor Fitzgerald and Daggin will give our test pilot a once-over after she arrives.”

“Drop the shields,” Lan said, fighting off a small smile at ‘test pilot.’ 

“Lowering shields,” Targa said.

The moment they were down, Lan initiated transport. The flower vanished in the telltale blue shimmer of light, and Lan watched it cycle through the shuttle’s pattern buffer and then it was gone, sent through the array to the Saviskaya’s pattern buffer. 

She glanced at Taitt. Not being able to see more than their piece of this relay run left Lan feeling itchy for Voyager to respond. 

“We’ve got it,” Honigsberg’s voice came over the channel. 

Lan held her breath. If the pattern had suffered even a slight drift, then they’d know in a moment.

“I’m seeing no discernible difference between your initial tricorder scan and the ones we just took.” Fitzgerald sounded impressed. “Daggin?”

“No signs of trauma, right down to the microcellular level.” Daggin paused. “I agree with Doctor Fitzgerald.” 

“Kes and Sullivan are standing by with hyronalin,” Fitzgerald said. “We’re ready for you.”

“All right,” Lan said, exhaling with relief. “Let’s get going. With the shields down, we’re on a clock.” It was already feeling warmer in here, and they were in a central part of the station. 

The first two Vestigye stepped up, and Lan initiated transport, announcing the beam was in progress over the open channel. They vanished in the shimmer of the transporter beam, and she held her breath a second time, listening as first Jetal, then Canamar, then Martin reported they were passing the signal along the chain. 

Finally, the voice she most wanted to hear came over the channel.

“We’ve got them,” Fitzgerald said. “They’re fine, just a little dizzy from the extended transport.”

Lan met Taitt’s gaze, and imagined Taitt was doing the same thing she was.

Counting down from sixty, two-by-two.

“Next pair,” Lan said, waving her hand, and two more Vostigye stepped up into the Yang.

“Initiating transport,” Lan said.

The Vostigye vanished.

Four down, fifty-six to go.

*

“Fitzgerald to Bridge.”

Cavit lifted his chin even as cool dread pooled in his stomach. He’d knew Jeff’s voice well enough to know this was bad news.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“The last pair to come through nearly went into neural shock,” Fitzgerald said. “Alex and Tamal think the problem is at the source—the beamouts are losing cohesion.” 

Cavit glanced at Ro.

“Eight more to go,” she said, answering his question before he could ask it, as she so often did.

“Taitt, did you catch that?” Cavit said.

“We did, Captain.” The static was much worse though. “The arrays aren’t designed for this level of heat, and the station can’t compensate much longer.”

Cavit took a second, knowing he didn’t have much more time than that to decide. And it was better he make the call, so if anything went south, it was clear who’d held the compass.

“Pile everyone else in your shuttle,” he said. “It’ll be a tight fit, but better than risking another beam out.”

“Aye Captain.” 

“All shuttles,” Ro said, tapping the comm panel beside her chair. “You’re clear to return to Voyager.”

One by one, the shuttles acknowledged, and Cavit returned to his seat, forcing himself to sit instead of pacing in the Command area, and watched the screen where—like so much of the last day—space in front of them resembled nothing more a field of stars.

“Roni, you and Lan ready to make your way home?” Ro said.

“Aye Commander,” Stadi said. “Waiting on the Yang.”

Cavit took a breath, waiting. 

“They’ve cleared the station,” Stadi said. “They’re on their way to us. And we’ve picked up the debris they were talking about. We had time.” 

Cavit saw the muscles in Ro’s jaw work at that news. Taitt had made it sound like there might be Federation ties to that piece of whatever-it-was. But it wasn’t likely it would be good news.

“I’m prepping a tight-beam transmission,” Jetal said. “If it works like before, it should set off an astral eddy.”

Which they could hopefully hitch a ride on to return to normal space. 

“Trumari and Canamar are making their approach to Main Shuttlebay,” Simmons reported from Ops. “Bogdanowicz and Martin are coming about.”

“Helm, I want us in transporter range of the estimated event horizon, just in case,” Cavit said. 

“Aye sir,” Ensign John Nesterowicz said. “Closing in.”

Cavit waited, staring at the stars.

“Shuttles are docked,” Simmons said.

“We’re in position,” Nesterowicz said.

“We’re ready here, too,” Taitt’s voice returned. “In position behind the Savitskaya.”

“Proceed Stadi,” Cavit said.

“Initiating the tight be—” Jetal’s voice started, and was lost as the viewer filled with the plasma eruption of an astral eddy, the flare of light and energy on the screen almost painful to look at. Cavit held up one hand.

Voyager shook beneath them.

“We’re on the edge of the plasma wave,” Simmons said. “And it’s making sensor readings a little fuzzy… but Savitskaya is clear of the anomaly.” She paused, and Voyager shook again. “I see the Yang.” 

“I’m reading damage,” Rollins said. “Captain, I think they’re losing power.” 

“Transporter room?” Cavit said.

“Too much interference for a lock,” Honigsberg’s reply was clipped. “Working on it.”

Voyager shook again, and an alarm trilled. 

“Minor damage to the hull on deck eleven,” Rollins said. 

“Can we tractor the shuttle?” Ro said. “Drag it closer without damaging it further?”

Rollins tapped his controls, then nodded. “I think so. There’s already some buckling on the shuttle’s hull, but I think I can get it clear before it breaches.”

“Do it,” Cavit said.

“Tractor beam engaged.”

On the screen, the greenish light of a tractor beam was nearly invisible against the glare of the astral eddy. Cavit couldn’t make out the shuttle at all.

“Alex, as soon as you can get a lock, get them out of there,” Ro said.

“Aye, Commander.”

Seconds ticked by.

“Shuttle’s hull integrity is failing,” Simmons said.

“Alex?” Cavit said.

For half a second, there was silence. Then the chief engineer replied.

“We’ve got them, Captain. Kes and Doctor Fitzgerald are giving them the once over, but they’re all on board.”

“John, pull us away from the eruption,” Cavit said, exhaling. 

“Aye, Captain.” 

“The shuttle?” Ro said.

“Recoverable. I’m on it,” Rollins said. 

“Good work everyone,” Cavit said. He turned to Ro, and smiled. “Now, think we’ve got time to figure out a way to get some of that plasma into our power reserves?” 

“I’m sure we can come up with something,” Ro said.

*

Lan looked around her round table and decided enough was enough. Rebecca Sullivan was already out, but Ahni Jetal, Tricia Jenkins, and Shannon Kalita had all held in to the last, though Lan thought Kalita was bluffing. 

Their extra guest, the Vostigye scientist Immi Varra, regarded her with those large eyes and relaxed ears. 

“Let’s see them,” Lan said, flipping over her cards to reveal her two pair.

“I believe this configuration is favourable?” Varra said. The Vostigye’s slender ears flicked back up almost playfully as she revealed all five of her cards.

Lan stared at the revealed diamond flush, then laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s favourable.” 

“Unbelievable.” Jetal, seated beside Varra, shook her head. “Beats my three of a kind.” She put her cards down. “I’d accuse you of lying about never having played poker before, but I happen to know the game was invented on the other side of the galaxy.”

Varra’s laugh—sort of a light chattery noise—made it clear she hadn’t taken the teasing seriously.

“For the record, the term for what you just did is ‘card shark,’” Sullivan said. She’d gone out on the round early, and seemed more impressed than annoyed at their Vostigye friend’s success. 

“Card shark,” Varra said, repeating the phrase. “It means winning?”

“Sort of,” Kalita said. “It’s more like someone who appears to be unskilled at a card game, who turns out to be very, very good at it.” 

“And now I take all the discs in the middle?” Varra said.

“Chips,” Jetal said. “And yes, yes you do.”

“This is a fascinating game,” Varra said, reaching out with her little furred hands to do just that. “The complexity of the variations of thirteen numbers with thirteen symbols is already interesting enough, but the added layer of potential deceit changes it from a game of pure statistics.” 

“Says the lady who just played a flush,” Lan said, to another round of laugher.

Her door chimed, and Lan smiled, knowing it could only be one person. “Come,” she said.

The door opened, and Ensign Michael Murphy arrived, a small basket in one hand, and a carafe in the other. “I see Poker Night is in full swing,” he said, crossing the room and pausing beside Lan at the table long enough to lean down and kiss her forehead. “Are you enjoying the game?” he said to Varra.

“It is delightful,” Varra said.

“She’s wiping the floor with us.” Kalita scoffed.

“Wiping the floor?” Varra blinked her large dark eyes. 

“Let me help you,” Lan said, rising from her chair and leaving the others to explain the expression to the Vostigye woman. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Murphy said, though he didn’t stop her from taking the carafe. She opened it and sniffed. It smelled like… honey?

“Mead. It’s synthehol,” Murphy said. “But I just saw a group of Vostigye in the Mess Hall, and they really seemed to like it. Celes has been figuring out their tastes.”

“It smells nice,” Lan said. 

He put down the basket—she spotted cookies of some sort—and then crossed his arms, just looking at her.

“I am resting,” she said. “Or I’m trying to. Kes gave us all a shot of something that has me practically vibrating.”

“Hyronalin,” Jetal’s voice carried from the table. “It’s like raktajino had a baby with a K’tarian chocolate puff. I’m still buzzing.” 

Lan held out one hand in a see? gesture.

“Fine,” he said, trying to sound stern, but a small smile betrayed his amusement. She reached up and touched the little dent in his chin with her finger, then leaned in for a kiss. 

“Oh,” she said, once she pulled back and saw the trace of heat in his eyes that always followed a kiss. “That reminds me.”

“Hm?” He said.

“It seems silly you bringing things back and forth all the time,” she said, keeping her voice as casual as she could. “Waste of time. Inefficient. And you know how I feel about inefficiency.”

“I… do,” Murphy blinked, his voice softening. 

“Good,” she said, nodding. “Start bringing your things over after your next shift then. Thanks for the cookies and mead. I’m sure it’ll console us when Varra has the last of our chips.” She turned her back on his stunned-but-delighted smile, and headed back to the table. 

There. Lan’s four-life streak of living alone had officially ended.

She was just about to sit back at the table when her combadge chirped.

“Honigsberg to Lan. Are you up?”

She eyed the group around her before tapping the combadge open. “Alex, there’s so much hyronalin in my system right now I’ll be awake for days. What can I do for you?”

“If you’re up for it, you could join me in the Main Engineering. I finished my analysis of that debris Stadi and Jetal recovered from the interfold layer.” 

Lan met Jetal’s gaze over the table, and the dark-haired woman gave her a small nod.

“On my way,” Lan said. 

By the time she got to Main Engineering from her quarters, Lan saw she was the last to arrive. Honigsberg had the long, burned lump of metal across the main engineering table, and the scan results up on his office wall, and Captain Cavit and Lieutenant Taitt were looking at them while they waited. Honigsberg was looking at the metal itself, his arms crossed. He had a small disk attached to the side of his neck, she noticed, and wondered if he was still having trouble with his lung.

“What did it turn out to be?” Lan said.

He rubbed his goatee with one hand. “You two were right. It’s definitely Federation. More than that, it’s Starfleet.” He gestured to the lump. “I detected low levels of baryon particles, and that, coupled with the exact composites…”

“It’s part of a starship,” Lan said.

Honigsberg nodded. “It’s part of a starship.”

“Can we figure out which starship?” Cavit said, turning around to face them.

“No,” Honigsberg said. “But I can tell you with certainty it’s not Equinox. Equinox launched in 2370, with most of the same materials used on Voyager—this comes from an older starship, but something from within two decades. There’s no identifying markers, unfortunately. I’d say it’s part of a nacelle, if I had to make a guess, but it would be exactly that: a guess.” 

“This interfold layer obviously struck another ship at some point, somewhere,” Taitt said, turning back from the display as well. “Captain, I’d like to try and reconstruct the path, if I can. Work backwards.”

Lan glanced at Taitt. It was so very optimistic a thought, that she could track down where the interfold layer came from—never mind that it had obviously started somewhere on the other side of the galaxy—that she almost scoffed, but this was Zandra Taitt. The woman was beyond clever.

“We’ll be harvesting plasma for another day, and then we’ll be taking the Vostigye back to their colony,” Cavit said. “See what you can learn in the meanwhile.” It wasn’t exactly a ‘yes’ but Lan thought it was a good compromise.

“Given the way it’s slowing down as it shrinks,” Honigsberg said. “It’s possible when it was larger it was moving at high warp.”

“That’s what I think,” Taitt said. “But I’ll need more data to be sure.”

Lan touched the metal that had come from somewhere much closer to home. The most likely answer was this was a shard of a ship that had been completely destroyed by the anomaly, or one of the astral eddies it released. 

But just for a moment, Lan let herself consider the possibility that somewhere, there was another Starfleet ship out there like Voyager and Equinox, making its way home. 

“If anyone can figure it out,” Lan said, looking at Taitt. “It’s you.”

Taitt smiled.