By Nathan Warner
William Riker, Data, and Ro Laren make a startling discovery of a profane evil hidden in the mysterious storms of the Badlands
“Setting our approach vector,” Commander Data commented as the shuttlecraft Berman banked up over the Enterprise and shunted out over the uncharted planet. Commander Will Riker distractedly nodded as he recalibrated the shuttle’s sensors to cut through the static of the ionosphere.
“I’m still picking up traces of chroniton particles on the third continent,” he said, trying to localize them and refine the coordinates, “but the atmosphere is still scattering the readings. We’ll have to get well below the ionosphere to pinpoint the location.”
As he was speaking, morning broke upon them with the ascent of the system’s star from behind the M-class planet. In a matter of seconds, the light also touched the Galaxy class starship below, bathing it in cool blue tones. It shone beautifully against the planet, which still lay in the dark and moody light of dusk. Just beyond the them, the dangerous and poorly explored plasma fields of the “Badlands” roiled in turbulent eddies – kept at bay by the powerful solar wind of the system’s star, creating a safe “bubble” of space for its solar system.
Riker glanced back to see Ro Laren hunched in the passenger compartment, setting her Phaser north of stun.
“Ensign, we’re not in a war,” he said gruffly. Ro shrugged her shoulders and tugged rebelliously at her red headband in mock salute before lowering the setting back to stun and turning her attention to calibrating her Tricorder. Riker stared at her for a second, wondering if he should reprimand her, but the prospect seemed wasted on the moment. He returned his attention to his console, checking the hull temperature as they approached the ionosphere. It was nominal and he took a moment to lean back in his seat and stroked his beard absently.
Chronometric particles, He thought, shaking his head, Who is messing with the time continuum out here? He had a love/hate relationship with time-travel. He’d experienced it many times in his life, and on more than one occasion, it had saved his life and his ship. But he always got a bad feeling wrapped around his gut whenever anyone else was tampering with it. That was especially true this morning. You never knew what they could be messing with in your timeline.
Only twelve hours earlier, the Enterprise had been on patrol along the perimeter of the Badlands. The situation with the Cardassian Union was very tense as they were running military exercises up and down the Demilitarized Zone. The Federation flagship had been tasked with making a show of force by warping up near the unexplored borders of the Cardassian frontier. Starfleet hoped this would shake the Cardassians up a bit. If it had, there was no evidence of it. They had yet to meet a single Cardassian vessel. However, at 1900 hours last night, only 6 hours after arriving in the vicinity, they detected a surge of chroniton energy being carried out of the Badlands on a plasma stream.
“Source, Mr. Data?” Picard asked. Data shook his head.
“Due to the volatile conditions in the Badlands, it is difficult to pinpoint the original source of the chroniton particles,” he reported, recalibrating the lateral sensor array. Captain Picard leaned over the Ops station where Data was processing the sensor information.
“Data, can we use the readings we’ve been gathering from our long-range scans to construct a temporal map of the currents in the badlands?” he asked. Data tilted his head momentarily.
“Perhaps,” he replied, “however, our sensors only penetrate a small way into the Badlands due to ionizing effects of the plasma.”
“What about launching probes to gather information on the currents?” Picard persisted. Data tapped his controls.
“I believe that would significantly improve our understanding of the currents,” he admitted. Picard nodded.
“Do it,” he said, glancing back out at the volatile horizon, “I’d like to try and work back the chroniton particles to their origin by following the currents back to the source.” Data pursed his lips.
“Intriguing proposition, Sir,” he replied, “however, the plasma eddies in the badlands are known to drift and change unexpectedly.” Picard shrugged lightly.
“We just need to get in the ballpark,” he said, pulling his tunic down as if to punctuate the decision. Data glanced up quizzically.
“I am almost certain we will not find a recreation facility inside this region of space, Captain,” he said.
“No, Data, it’s a figure of speech,” Picard said impatiently, “meaning in the general area.” Data nodded.
“I see,” he reflected, “because a 20th century baseball has a certain radius of range in the game, hence the term ‘ballpark’ signifies the maximum area in which the ball must have originated, and…”
“Yes, Data, yes,” Picard waved for him to stop, “I think you’ve gotten the idea.”
In less than a minute, the Enterprise had launched a dozen probes into the Badlands. Over the next hour, Data carefully processed the sensor data they recorded of the plasma eddies until he had produced a partial map of the currents in the nearby region of the Badlands. The Bridge officers met in the Conference Room to hear the results. Before taking his seat at the head of the table, Picard motioned for Data to begin his presentation.
“What have you learned, Mr. Data?” he asked. Data rose from his chair and walked to the display at the other end of the table.
“With the information we received from our probes, I believe I have successfully mapped the currents that carried these chroniton particles to us,” he reported, tapping the screen to reveal a diagram, “and they seem to have originated in a nearby pocket of space inside the Badlands, located here.” The diagram zoomed in to show a sort of hollow bubble inside the plasma fields. Riker shifted in his chair.
“What makes that pocket possible?” he asked, “Is there something acting on the plasma?” Data nodded.
“Precisely, Commander,” he said, returning his attention to the display, “There appears to be a star system in this pocket of space, leading me to believe that this is the ballpark we have been looking for.” Geordi’s eyebrows rose above his visor as he exchanged glances with Riker and Troi. Picard ignored the quizzical glances.
“How long will it take us to arrive at this star system?” he asked.
“Approximately 11 hours at full impulse,” Data replied.
“Very well, set a course for this star, but let’s proceed with caution,” Picard said, running his hand over his smooth head, “after all, Cardassians are infamous for their deviousness and cunning. If it weren’t for the very specific nature of these chroniton particles, I would assume that this was a diversion or a trap. However, these particles cannot be imitated, so we must be dealing with attempted time travel, and we need to know who is doing it. Dismissed.”
The next 11 hours were nothing short of hair-razing as the Enterprise plowed ahead into the fire-storms of the Badlands. The deflector strained to pave the way for the ship against the waves of matter and energy, and yet the powerful Galaxy class starship was still buffeted and tossed by the plasma currents as if it was a small boat in sea swells. Even with inertial dampers, the deck shuddered and swayed, leaving Picard without much of an appetite and unable to get any descent sleep. Then quite suddenly in the early morning hours, the ship’s motion became serene, like a vessel passing into the eye of a hurricane. “Must have entered the ‘bubble,’” Picard muttered to himself, taking this opportunity to get dressed and relocate to the bridge.
“Good morning, Sir,” Data greeted him, vacating the command chair with some surprise at the Captain’s early arrival.
“Good morning, Data,” Picard returned taking his seat, carefully balancing his cup of Earl Grey, which he’d replicated just strong enough to take the edge of his insomnia, “Report.” Data moved to the Ops station.
“We have entered the pocket of empty space and are approaching the star system now,” he replied, “All ship systems are nominal and we suffered no damage in the transit through the Badlands.” Picard smiled. He could almost swear he heard a hint of pride in Data’s voice. Before he could continue, he was briefly distracted by the turbolift opening and Commander Riker and Lt. Worf stepping on deck. He noticed Riker looked a bit disheveled – probably not much sleep either – and he caught the Commander shaking his head to Worf when they saw that the Captain had beat them to the bridge.
“Very well, Mr. Data,” Picard acknowledged, returning his attention to the situation at hand, “anything on sensors?” Data interrogated his console for the latest updates.
“We are registering residual chroniton particles in the star system, Sir,” he answered, “and without the plasma interference, it does appear to be the source of the particle surge we detected.”
“Are we in visual range yet?” Picard asked.
“We are entering it…now,” Data replied, pausing as the last kilometers flew by.
“On screen,” Picard ordered. The Viewscreen beeped and they were all introduced to the central star that was making their smooth transit possible with its solar pressure keeping the plasma at bay. It glowed blue – a cold, clear light, surrounded by a small cluster of glinting specs suspended in space – 3 to 4 planetoids in total.
“Which planet is the likely origin?” Riker asked, finally settling into his seat. Data tapped his console and the screen centered on the outermost planet in the system.
“Maximum magnification,” Picard requested. Data complied as the Enterprise had covered some good ground on full impulse since they began. The viewscreen pulled them into view of a lush, oceanic world with prominent green continents, draped by cloud cover. Picard leaned forward, half expecting to see a ship in Orbit, but nothing met his gaze.
“Scan for vessels,” he instructed Data, “and establish Orbit.” He directed this last command to Ensign Ro Laren who had just come on duty herself and taken over the Con.
“Aye, Sir,” she replied in that familiar voice, which almost advertised she was wrestling down defiance. Sensors detected no ships in the area, nor any sign of debris. Scans of the planet were inconclusive because of an unusually dense ionosphere. In less than a minute, the planet filled their entire view as the Galaxy class pulled into Orbit.
“I am still having difficulty pushing the sensors through the ionosphere, Captain,” Data commented, “however, I am detecting a faint chroniton signature coming from the third continent.”
“Perhaps if we took a shuttle below the ionosphere, we could localize the phenomenon,” Riker suggested.
“Agreed,” Picard nodded, reflecting that the transporters couldn’t punch through that much ionization, “but launch a satellite buoy to boost your signal through the atmosphere, so we can keep an open channel.” Riker rose and gestured for Data and Ro to follow him.
“Probably a Cardassian trap,” Ro muttered irritably in the turbolift.
“Do you have something to say, Ensign,” Riker asked dangerously. Ro straightened and pushed her reflex to lash out about as far down as she could manage, which was still slightly visible on the surface – evidenced by Riker raising his eyebrows as a warning. In less than a minute, they were prepping the Berman for takeoff from the flight deck of the impressive Main Shuttle Bay. The deck crew just finished attaching the comms buoy to the hull before the bay door pulled up. As soon as they were cleared, Data lifted the shuttle off and jockeyed it through the forcefield barrier and out over the graceful back of the Enterprise. He arched up over the ship, gaining some altitude and targeting the third continent before descending rapidly towards the planet. As fluid and easy as the setup had been, their transit through the atmosphere was a different story – the ride through the ionosphere reminded Riker of that Tellerite bull he had ridden on Calvious 5. “Launching the communication buoy!” Riker yelled over the turbulence. There was a slight thud outside the hull as the buoy was deployed in station-keeping mode to maximize signal strength.
“Riker to Enterprise,” he called, opening the channel.
“Picard here,” came the reply.
“Captain, we’ve just passed through the ionosphere,” Riker reported, “and we’ve localized the chroniton particles to a mountainous area in the northern climate of the third continent.”
“Very good, Commander,” Picard responded, “we’re monitoring your flight. Once you’ve landed reestablish contact.”
“Understood, Riker out,” he said closing the channel.
“Commander, I believe the source of the particles is coming from the highest mountain in this chain,” Data said, pointing to the schematic on his console, “however, it appears to be emanating from inside the mountain.”
“Just get us as close as you can and we’ll see if there’s a place to land,” Riker replied. The rest of the ride through the atmosphere was relatively serene as they approached the mountain chain in the north, but the horizon was a different story. There, a storm was rolling in and the dark clouds were reaching for them with ill will.
“Commander,” Data motioned for him to look out the window. Riker leaned forward to see a tall mountain rising to meet them, but to his surprise, the peak seemed to have been sheared clean off. Smoke and steam were still rising into the thin atmosphere.
“Volcanic?” he asked Data.
“Negative,” Data replied, interpreting his sensors, “It seems a chroniton particle surge from inside the mountain released a massive energy spike, building up pressure until it vented through the overburden rock.”
“You mean it blew up?” Riker asked looking quizzically at the Android, “Could it be a natural phenomenon?” Data tilted his head.
“Unlikely,” he replied, “as I am also detecting residual Eichner radiation from wave guide technology in the vapors escaping the peak. I would surmise that a technologically advanced presence has been here recently.”
“Life signs?” Riker asked.
“None that I am detecting,” Data said, “however, our sensors appear to be reflecting off a mineral compound in the rock. It is difficult to determine any information from inside the mountain.” Riker returned his mind to getting down on the mountain and brought Data’s attention to a large, flat, snow-covered ledge near what appeared to be a cave entrance in the side of the rock – about 50m below from the smoking peak.
“Let’s put the shuttle down there,” he said, glancing up at the storm clouds moving in. This wasn’t going to be easy. He crawled out of his seat as Data brought the shuttle in to land, and he found Laren still toying with her Tricorder. Riker shook his head. “Ensign, find us two respirators,” he said irritably, breaking into her concentration, and fishing out some Starfleet insulated jackets, “the atmosphere out there is pretty thin.” Laren looked up distractedly.
“Two respirators…got it,” she replied, pulling herself together. But as she stood up, she paused, as if counting Data, Riker, and herself. Her face suddenly flushed with anger. “Am I being left behind, Sir?” she asked sharply. Riker turned in surprise.
“No,” he said simply, completely lost as to why she was upset. And then it hit Ro.
“Of course!” she muttered, planting her palm to her forehead, “two masks, not three, because Data doesn’t need one.” Riker’s eyebrows were nearly to his hairline, and he exchanged a look with Data that clearly said, “This Ensign is trouble!” Before he could say anything, they all felt the slight jolt of the shuttle touching down on the mountain, and he turned back to pulling the last jacket out. Ro retrieved the respirators from a storage locker and handed one to Riker. As he put it on, he went over the plan.
“I want Phasers out but on stun,” he said, giving an especially long glance Ro’s way, “We have no idea what we’ll find in there, but we’re not looking for trouble.” Purposeful time manipulation was frowned on by all major governments, so it was only done in the shadows, and bad things were always done in the shadows – hence the “Phasers-first” approach.
The shuttle door opened and the cold, thin atmosphere instantly bit at them. The wind was already howling and Data had to steady Riker and Ro against the gusts. Before Riker could pull out his Tricorder, he heard its familiar sound and turned to see Ro scanning the large cave opening ahead of them. They stumbled forward through the snow towards the mouth until they were beneath its shadow.
“Commander,” Ro called, “this cave was recently produced with Phaser blasts – the walls have been artificially widened.” Riker checked her readings for himself. It was unmistakable, energy blasts had cut the rock apart – and within the last week. Data was also taking readings.
“Sir, I am detecting chroniton particles inside the cavern,” he called above the wind, “but they appear to be fading.” Riker nodded to Data.
“Let’s proceed with caution,” he said and tapped his communicator, “Riker to Enterprise!” lighting flickered and pulsed from the dark clouds overhead. They waited breathlessly until a static-filled reply garbled out into the mountainous air.
“This….Picard…what…status…” and then the line went dead. Riker grimaced. As he feared, the storm was interfering with their com signal.
“Well?” Ro asked, impatient to continue into the cave. Riker measured their options in his mind – they could return to the ship and report what they’d discovered so far, which wasn’t much, or they could proceed forward until they had something worth returning with. The last option was the only one Riker could stomach.
“Let’s go slowly,” he said raising his Phaser for emphasis. Data took point with his Tricorder held masterly in front of him. It only took a few steps for the cavern to grow dark and Ro holstered her Tricorder for a flashlight. The beam reflected off the smooth, melted surface of the rock, cut and polished by high energy beams. The wind outside died down and the temperature became a little more bearable. About 100ft in, the shaft opened up into a tall, triangular arched chamber over 50ft tall and 200ft long. Thick stone ribs descended from the apex above their heads to the sides of the wide stone causeway. In-between these ribs, dark shafts ascended, probably to the outside for ventilation.
“These walls are not a natural formation,” Data commented on the obvious, reading the results from his Tricorder, “They appear to have been manufactured using primitive tool techniques approximately 2000 years ago.” The air quality was improved – probably from urns of oxygen powders lining the walls. They removed their respirators and cautiously sampled the stale air. It had a slightly metallic smell, but was passable. Riker had only taken a few steps into the chamber when he noticed the light wasn’t following him, and he turned around to find Ro still standing in awe at the entrance. “Is everything alright, Ensign?” he asked, impatiently.
“Uh, yes…I mean…I don’t know, Sir,” she stammered, caught off guard in the middle of her thoughts. Riker sighed inwardly – he really couldn’t see Ensign Ro Laren making it in Starfleet.
“And?” he asked her. Ro took a few steps forward and shined her light at the wall.
“Sir, these markings on the wall,” she said, pointing them out, “they’re Bajoran!” Riker climbed next to her until he could see the symbols etched into the stone.
“Are you sure?” he asked. Ro nodded. “I think I’d know…Sir,” she said, amending her snarkiness with the formality, “however, I’ve never heard of a Bajoran holy site in the Badlands.”
“Holy site?” Riker asked doubtfully. Ro pointed at the markings.
“Yes, these symbols call on us to put aside our mortal thoughts,” she said, and then added more in a whisper, “in the presence of the Prophets.”
“Prophets?” Riker asked, even more dubiously. By now, Data had joined them at the reliefs.
“I believe Ensign Ro is referring to the deities of the Bajoran people,” he said, knowledgably, “the Prophets are very powerful entities living in a Celestial Temple, according to Bajoran mythology, and they…”
“Yes, Data, thank you,” Riker said, returning his attention to Ro, “You said this is a temple of sorts, which your people don’t know exists? How is that possible?”
“Well, 2000 years is a long time ago,” she replied, still in a bit of a daze, “and I suppose it is possible we had temples and shrines in locations outside Bajor – even in the Badlands.” Riker sighed.
“Okay,” he said sweeping his hand over the relief, “so we’ve established this location is probably an ancient Bajoran temple, but that still doesn’t explain the chroniton particles we’ve been reading or the recent excavation or the damage to the mountain. Let’s find answers to those questions.”
They proceeded forward through the long causeway until coming to a small passageway cut in the other end of the chamber, descending down at a steep 45-degree angle into darkness. Once again, the cuts in the stone were recent. “I think the way is down” Riker said amusedly, interrupting Data and Ro who had paused at the opening and were trying to take Tricorder readings from the rock. With a sigh, Ro pocketed her Tricorder and started for the opening. Data motioned for them to stop.
“Commander, I believe I should descend the passageway first,” he said, nodding into the darkness, “In the event of a fall I believe it would be more advantageous for you if you fell on me, rather than if I fell on you.” Riker suppressed a chuckle. Without trying to be humorous, Data could sometimes make the simplest things funny. Also, he couldn’t argue with the android’s logic.
“You got it, Mr. Data,” he said with a smile, backing away from the opening. Carefully, Data braced himself against the walls and began descending down the shaft. Riker clambered in next and Ro followed after him. To his surprise, Riker found anchor bolts recessed into the wall, but they were unreachable for his hands. They looked like the type that could be activated to protrude with a remote. The rock surface was so smooth that it was difficult to maintain the friction necessary to keep from sliding.
He had just remarked to the others on how well it seemed to be going, when he heard Ro curse behind him followed by a slipping sound and finally her body taking his legs out from under him. He fell hard and lost his grip causing both of them to barrel down on top of Data. The Android very nearly held them back, but his grip gave way under their collision. Great! Thought Riker as he slid helplessly down the passageway, I’ll die sandwiched between an android and an Ensign! In that moment, they struck bottom – or rather, Data struck rock, he struck Data, and Ro struck him. After a moment or two, reserved for moans, Riker rolled Ro off him and he rolled off Data.
“Is everyone okay?” He asked weakly, nursing his left knee, which had found a rock. Ro nodded, wiping some blood from a small cut on her forehead, while Data merely stood up and brushed himself off – impervious it seemed to even a scratch. “I’m glad we tested this out your way, Data,” Riker groaned, rubbing the last of the pain from his leg as he stood cautiously and glanced around in the darkness, trying to discern anything recognizable.
That’s when he noticed a faint purple light emanating ahead of them as his eyes adjusted to the surroundings. The familiar sounds of Tricorders lighting up filled the chamber. “We appear to be in a small antechamber,” Data reflected, “which leads into a larger hall-like structure from which this light is presumably emanating.” Ro had found her flashlight, and she illuminated the opening into the next chamber.
“I’m picking up higher concentrations of chroniton particles, Commander,” she added, interrogating her own Tricorder.
“Alright, maybe this is it,” Riker said, striding forward towards the opening. They passed into a three story, dome-shaped chamber with a flat stone floor. On the other side, there was a small ziggurat with circular stone slabs rising up step by step to a sort of pedestal or dais on top about half-way up the chamber – 15 feet or so. From the ceiling, a similar structure reached down. In the middle, between the two structures at the top of the dais was a space about three feet tall. There, a mysterious purple energy was glowing from an hourglass shaped device of some sort. The room was lit by the eerie light.
Riker looked quizzically at Data as the android scanned the energy source. “Well?” he asked, even more curious as the alerts on Data’s Tricorder were all going off at once.
“This is the source of the chroniton particles, Commander,” Data reported as he continued to scan the object ahead of them, “I am reading its energy in the gigawatts – an object of immense power.”
“Capable of blowing the top off a mountain?” Riker asked. Data nodded.
“Affirmative, Sir,” he said, “and perhaps more.” Riker noticed suddenly that Ro was awfully quiet, and a glance to his left side where she was standing confirmed she wasn’t taking any readings, but was instead staring fixedly at the glowing object. “Do you have anything, Ensign?” he asked. Ro shook herself.
“Huh?” she responded out of some deep thought, and then when her eyes met Riker’s she stiffened noticeably and pulled herself together, “I mean…sorry, Sir, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat the question, Sir?” Riker bit his tongue. This Ensign really rubbed him the wrong way.
“I said, do you have anything to contribute, Ensign Ro Laren?” he repeated, parroting her tone back at her. She seemed to appreciate it, and she relaxed a little.
“Yes,” she said, “I think I’ve seen this object before.”
“Where?” Riker asked.
“In a Bajoran religious text,” she replied, pointing at the hour-glass shape, “I think this is an Orb!”
“An Orb?” Riker asked, hoping he didn’t have to add to his question.
“Yes,” Ro continued, “our religious tradition maintains that the Prophets gave the Bajorans a number of Orbs – powerful devices to help guide our people in the will of the Prophets.”
“How many Orbs are we talking about and what was their function?” Riker asked. Ro stretched her memory.
“I think there were eight – no, nine Orbs, each gifting a certain ability or power to those who were in its presence. There was an Orb of Wisdom, one of Prophecy, and one of Time, I think.”
“Which one is this?” Riker asked.
“I don’t know,” Ro said defensively, “I never paid much attention to religious superstition – I was a too busy fighting off Cardassians… but,” she added, sensing the Commander’s temper was close on her tail, “if I had to guess, I’d say that because we’ve been detecting chroniton particles this must be the Orb of Time as it was rumored to allow time travel.”
“Who has possession of that Orb?” Riker asked. Ro looked up with sudden clarity.
“The Cardassians,” she said, “I remember being told that they had removed it from Bajor during the occupation.”
At that moment Data called to them from the other side of the Ziggurat, “Commander, I believe I have discovered something!” As Riker and Ro joined him, He pointed his Tricorder down at the floor and Ro turned her flashlight on the spot. Everyone except Data jumped. It was a body – a badly burned body. “There are at least seven others like it,” Data said, “and the DNA analysis reads them as Cardassian.” Riker leaned forward to take a closer look. The remains were so badly charred that they were basically ash. But beside the body was a duranium insignia of the Obsidian Order – a wing of the Cardassian military that rivaled the Romulan Tal Shiar for covert cunning and diabolical ruthlessness.
“What were they doing here in an ancient Bajoran temple with a religious artifact?” Riker asked, more perplexed than ever, “And what happened to cause…this?”
“I believe I can shed light on that, Sir,” Data said, pointing at the ground next to the remains, “There is trace cellular evidence of a mounting tripod that was placed here along with trace remnants of Eichner radiation.”
“Meaning what?” Riker asked.
“It is likely that the Cardassians were studying this object,” Data replied, “and that their use of Eichner radiation on this ‘Orb’ caused it to…overload, as it were.”
“I have a better explanation,” Ro said bitterly, “I say the Cardassians were trying to weaponize the Orb for their own purposes and got what they deserved.”
“What do you mean?” Riker asked. Ro took a step forward toward the Cardassian remains. She looked like a child who was going to stomp the ashes out, fearing a live ember was still in the pile.
“Our sages tell us that the Orb of Time could transport people or objects through time at the will of the Prophets – now, I’m not saying I believe any of this – they were just legends to me this morning, but now I’m standing next to a real Orb, so I’m not sure anymore. Maybe the Prophets are real…anyways, they always told us that if the Prophets were accepting of your request, they would permit your transit through time and space. Now I don’t know about you, but I can’t imagine the Bajoran Prophets would allow Obsidian Order butchers to use the Orb to, oh, I don’t know – drop a bomb off at Starfleet Headquarters last week or kidnap the President of the United Federation of Planets two years ago! Obviously, they were trying to manipulate the Orb and wrestle control of it from the Prophets for their sick designs when they got what was coming to them.” Riker raised his eyebrows and glanced at Data.
“Well, that certainly is a theory,” he said, “but we’re not here to theorize. Our mission right now is to catalogue everything we can, secure this artifact, and report back to the Captain.” Ro walked off for a moment to cool her mind, still swayed by her emotions, but she was soon back as Riker and Data prepared to approach the Orb.
Together, they climbed the seven large circular steps to the glowing shape transfixed at the top. “Do you know any way to turn it off?” Riker asked her. Ro looked at him in surprise.
“You can’t,” she said definitively.
“How do you know?” Riker asked.
“I just know you can’t turn it off,” she replied with the same authoritative tone.
“Okay,” he said slowly, trying not to lose his cool, “Can you tell us how the Orb is transported, then?” Ro let the glowing object fill her gaze.
“I believe it is carried in a special box,” she said, “I think that’s why it took me longer to recognize it, because in the illustrations I’ve seen, it’s always in a rectangular sort of ark.” Data’s scan of the room did not reveal any containers.
“It is possible that the energy discharge that destroyed much of this chamber also vaporized the Orb’s container,” he suggested. Ro shrugged her shoulders.
“Well,” Riker said, “maybe if we try to move it down from here, we can find a way to carry it back to the shuttle. I’m not sure how heavy it is – maybe if we all three try to lift it.”
They placed their hands on the Orb and in that instant, like touching a live wire, they were transfixed to it as a surge of energy flowed through them and a white light overwhelmed their eyes. Riker felt himself leave the chamber and float into a sea of white where he felt himself being weighed by some sort of consciousness – as if his motives and attitudes were being sifted by a higher power.
“Hello?” he called. Suddenly, he was sitting at a small desk in a room so quiet he could hear his heartbeat, surrounded by other Starfleet personnel sitting at similar desks – intently reading PADDS. He glanced around and then it struck him – Starfleet Academy – Temporal Mechanics – Final Exam! He saw Professor Quandrian at the front of the classroom bending his Andorian antennas on each student as the clock worked its way through time. Then the Professor’s cold gaze fell on him and the antennas strained towards him.
“Cadet, Riker, do you have a problem?” he asked icily. Riker opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the scene faded into white. What was that all about? Riker wondered. He had always regretted not paying attention in that class – he’d passed it by the skin of his teeth after staying up all night with temporal wiz Berdie Nielson. Was the vision symbolic of a test? Was it offering him a chance to change a regret?
Before he could think further, the scene changed and he found himself at a wedding reception. He recognized the surroundings instantly as the lush and lovely planet Betazed. In front of him, a huge, five-tiered wedding cake was beginning to lean a little lopsidedly, and a sudden panic flooded through Riker – did anyone see what was happening? It was like watching a slow-motion shuttle crash, and he started to reach out to catch it. But before he could get to it, a woman darted in front of him and rescued it just in time, propping it safely up, licking the frosting from her finger as compensation for saving the day.
“Deanna!” Riker exclaimed, suddenly recognizing the woman as she turned around. But his words were lost in the resulting applause for her heroism, which had been observed by the wedding party. She bowed gracefully with a smile, tossing her curls in the process, and then bounced away to a small group of her friends. Riker remembered this was the first time they’d met, and he recalled that he hadn’t made the best impression on her. Was this an opportunity to change that?
He really wanted to stay and find out, but the scene faded away and he was suddenly standing at the end of a dock in the Alaskan wilderness with his overbearing father who was cleaning a Yelloweye Rockfish.
“Why are you here?” his father was asking him. Riker was at a loss. His irritation at being forced to leave Deanna and wind up here with his father was a bit overwhelming. But something bothered him about this situation, and he took note of his surroundings. The lighting was odd – a little too purple – and he didn’t remember ever being in this particular situation with his dad who would never have been fishing for rockfish as he always said they needed the space to recover from the overfishing of the 20th Century. Maybe this wasn’t a memory. His father looked at him and Riker instantly sensed it wasn’t really his dad. Perhaps this was First Contact? Was this a ‘Prophet’ as Ro called them? Riker stiffened his shoulders.
“My name is Commander William Riker of the United Federation of Planets,” he began, “I serve aboard a starship – the U.S.S. Enterprise. We detected a chroniton burst from a planet in the Badlands, and we were investigating it when we stumbled upon a Bajoran temple and something that Ensign Ro calls an ‘Orb’ of the Prophets. We mean no harm and are only interested in understanding the phenomenon.” His father looked up from gutting the fish.
“I see,” he said, “Very interesting.” But he didn’t seem very interested. “And why do you want to travel through time and space?” his father asked. I don’t want to be here at all, Riker thought, but then he realized that perhaps he was being offered a way to learn about these beings and this Orb.
“I suppose I just want to understand what happened here,” Riker responded simply. His father nodded knowingly.
“Yes, perhaps you need to understand what has happened here,” he said and then shrugged. Instantly, Riker found himself back in the large circular chamber with Data and Ro beside him, except this time they were not alone. A small brigade of Cardassian troops was turning in surprise at their sudden appearance.
“Oh, you have to be joking,” Riker muttered, realizing they’d been transported 12 hours earlier to the events that led to them coming here in the first place. Nothing like a hands-on history lesson, he thought, raising his arms and backing away slowly from the soldiers – there was enough firepower in here to level a mountain. Unfortunately, Ro put her hands to her Phaser, and she went down with a blast to her chest from the nearest Cardassian trooper.
“Don’t shoot!” Riker bellowed, glancing down at Ro. She was still breathing and from the look of things, it had been a lower stun setting. The Away Team was subdued instantly, having their Tricorders, Phasers, and Communicators removed. With a Cardassian trooper gripping each arm, Riker didn’t have to wait long to meet the man in charge. From behind a wall of soldiers at the base of the ziggurat, a shorter Cardassian cautiously stepped up a few levels to be seen over the heads of his men. He was stouter than the soldiers and had a well-rounded face lit by cold, calculating eyes.
“I’d like to welcome you, Emissary, to our humble little abode,” he said to Riker with a superior air, gesturing his hands to the stone around them. Riker passed his confused expression to Data before returning his attention to the scene before them. The first thing he noticed about the Cardassian, besides his appearance, was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a military uniform, adorned instead by a brown woven tunic of some sort of wool with the emblem of a Cardassian scientist on the left chest. “I have no doubt you’ve been sent here by the Bajoran demons to stop me so you can fulfill their quaint and ridiculous little prophecies,” the Cardassian smiled, “You’re a little late, I’m afraid, as I’m in the middle of an experiment that will unravel them and reshape the landscape of the Alpha Quadrant.” He returned to adding information into an Eichner emitter on a central control tripod beside him.
“I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding – I’m Commander William Riker of the Starship Enter…?” Riker began, but he was cut off by a gut punch from the Cardassian to his right. The Cardassian scientist raised his hand to cease the violence.
“No, let them speak and treat them with respect,” he said with an amused smirk, “they are representatives of a higher power, after all, and they will serve as witnesses to our ascension over that power.” Riker was surprised that the scientist seemed to be in charge of the operation as the Obsidian Order was following his orders as if he was their Gul.
“My name is Balack,” the Cardassian said stressing the syllables of his name, “Elim Balack. Remember it – your children will.” Balack returned to entering data into the emitter. Riker reassessed the situation. They weren’t getting anywhere, so he decided to play it innocent.
“I don’t understand how we got here,” he reflected, “Our ship detected a massive chroniton particle surge in the Badlands and followed it to this planet where we found this mountain all but destroyed. There were bodies everywhere – Cardassian bodies – and this ‘Orb’ as Ensign Ro called it was the only thing still standing. When we tried to move it, we found ourselves here.” He hoped to buy some time by planting doubt in Balack’s mind. Balack studied Riker carefully under his icy gaze.
“I can tell you honestly believe what you are saying,” he said dismissively, “but the visions of these demons are very persuasive – believe me, in the presence of this Orb, I’ve seen and done things that I was entirely convinced of, only to discover later it was all just a trick, an illusion to distract me from my purpose.”
“Which is?” Riker asked carefully.
“The ascendancy of Cardassia, of course,” Balack replied, “By my hand, Cardassia will rise above all other powers in the Galaxy.”
“Excuse me, but that seems ambitious to the point of delusional,” Data chimed in for the first time. Riker winced – hardly words for a tense diplomatic situation. Balack took note of Data for the first time.
“Ah, the famous Android,” he said, “Do you know I’m familiar with Dr. Soong’s work? Yes, impressive designs and then he caught, how do you say, ‘lightning in a bottle’ with you, Mr. Data. I know you cannot lie and so I will overlook your ignorance. In fact, I welcome the presence of your acutely logical mind – the mind of a scientist such as myself.” He studied Data for a moment and then gestured for him to step forward. “Come up here, and I will apprise you of my work.”
The Cardassian soldiers released Data, and he looked to Riker who gave him a nod to proceed. “Yes, Commander, play me for time,” Balack smiled with a knowing air, “time is all we have, after all – perhaps you will stretch it out long enough to be rescued, eh? Perhaps the minutes will be kind to you and you will escape my grasp? Unlikely, I think. Your destiny is written here – you will perish after I have wrestled this gem from the powers that keep it from me. I have seen it. Your bodies lying in ash heaps on this very floor.” Balack’s words struck a chill in Riker’s blood and he stared at the Orb. What kind of power was this…thing? By now, Data had ascended the ziggurat just below Balack, and the Cardassian considered him.
“This,” Balack said, indicating the Orb, “Is the Bajoran Orb of Time, which we appropriated shortly after our occupation of Bajor – it was rumored to allow transit through space and time. From my decades of research, I can safely say that rumor is true. It is by far the most powerful relic we’ve recovered from the occupation.”
“Recovered?” Data asked, tilting his head inquisitively.
“Yes,” Balack continued, “my life’s work has been the study of rare and powerful objects in the Universe. From the Iconian Gateways to the Psionic resonators of the Vulcans – I was the foremost leading authority in my field on Cardassia. This position attracted the attention of the Obsidian Order when the occupation of Bajor was being planned, and I was given the task of locating and acquiring all Bajoran holy objects for cataloging and study. It had long been rumored that the Bajorans possessed objects of immense power, and so my mission was to acquire that power and tap into it – to turn it in favor of the unstoppable prowess of the Cardassian Union. I have found and studied many powerful artifacts – from the Sword of Destinies, which was legendary for winning the battles of all who wielded it, to the Chalice of the Ageless Ones that would cure aging and grant you immortality, to the Eye of Courban a black, lightless crystal containing a micro-singularity that was said to be capable of incorporating the matter of an entire planet – a bottomless pit – from which you could recall whatever you had put inside, even a ship. Many I proved to be nothing more than the legends they are, but some…some are true, and are in our possession to carry out the will of Cardassia. But no device or relic has equaled the Orbs of the Prophets! They are by far the most powerful objects I have ever encountered in all my years of research.” He paused to admire the glowing Orb above them, but then his face hardened. “However, with the Orbs, no matter how I try to understand them, I am withstood by an alien consciousness from within that toys with me – dangling my desire on a string before me but always just out of reach. No longer! Today is the culmination of the best years of my life, and you will see me triumph.”
“What is it you seek to accomplish with this Orb?” Data asked, genuinely curious. Balack appreciated the honesty in his voice – he had tired of being surrounded by military industrialists and longed for some intellectual, even academic company.
“This alien consciousness seems necessary for the device to work,” Balack explained, “But by bombarding it with Eichner radiation, I will render that consciousness unconscious – not unlike hypnosis. Once induced into this highly suggestable state, I will be able to plant my mind into its mind, if you will – directing my thoughts through it with a neural transmitter, projecting my mind into its matrix and wrestling it from the mighty Prophets of Bajor.” He gestured at their surroundings. “And what a perfect setting for such a ritual!” he said, “Do you know when I found a map in an old Bajoran monastery with clues to the location of the Orb’s original resting place, I followed them to this temple, safely tucked away in the Badlands. It was here, that the Bajorans first accessed time and space at the Prophet’s whim. What could be more fitting than to bring the Orb back here to free it from these beings?”
Data had been waiting unsuccessfully to mention that Eichner radiation was poorly understood and had unexpected reactions to exotic forms of matter, but he couldn’t manage to get a word in – Balack truly had a magnetic, but maniacal personality.
“Imagine with me Mr. Data – being able to travel in time and reshape the universe as you desire,” he said, impassioned by the thoughts running through his mind, “or meet the great beings of space and time and make allies of them for your people – the possibilities are endless!”
“You’ll die before I let you touch that Orb!” a voice croaked from down below. Balack glanced down in surprise to see Ensign Ro Laren propping herself up from the ground and pointing her finger at him. A Cardassian soldier stepped over her and raised his weapon to strike, but Balack lifted his hand.
“No, keep the Bajoran woman alive,” he ordered, allowing a twisted smile to corrupt his face, “I’ve been waiting for her to recover so that she can see what I do with her precious Prophets and their Orb.” He turned back to input the last coordinates into his emitters and fitted a neural transmitter over his frontal lobe, activating the data link to the emitters. Data pursed his lips in thought.
“I have heard your thoughts, Balack, but I do not believe you will succeed,” he said, “these ‘prophets’ as the Bajorans call them appear to be immensely powerful, and while you may dismiss what they revealed to me when I touched the Orb, I clearly saw you fail.” Balack swayed back. Data’s detached and emotionless words struck him like a blow. But he rallied and then activated the emitter.
“If they are so powerful, how could they not save Bajor from our carnage?” he asked, betraying a slight tremor on his lip – perhaps guilt or possibly just contempt, but he masked it immediately. “No, these Bajoran demons are imposters who do not deserve to control such a beautiful power – a treasure destined to raise my people to unassailable heights.” The other three emitters had joined in the startup sequence and the sound of the power welling up in them screeched and whined in the cavern until finally, the Eichner radiation pulsed out of them and struck the Orb with white streams of energy.
The light inside the Orb flickered. Like a candle in a breeze, Riker thought, genuinely concerned for the first time that Balack might actually succeed. But then if he didn’t, the whole place was going to blow! He began straining against the soldiers holding him, just as the Orb strained against the energy pumping into it, but the strain proved to be too much. Suddenly, all light in the cavern went out. Riker would have taken this opportunity to floor the two Cardassian soldiers holding him, but he felt an immense weight of something important that was about to happen. Out of the darkness, a soft purple light began to emanate again from the Orb. Swirls of energy began floating like mist out among the Cardassian troops. Slowly, the energy curved and wrapped like tendrils around them. They were like roots of light – so beautiful, and still the Orb grew brighter. Riker was so taken by the sight that he almost didn’t see the swirling energy wrapping up from his legs – rising like vines around his body.
He felt again that he was being weighed by a higher consciousness, and he didn’t resist it. He thought of Deanna at the wedding and it grounded his mind. The Cardassians soldiers were stepping back and recoiling from the energy swirls, shaking them off only to be gripped by another. Balack would not step away. He stood before the Orb, unaware of his surroundings with his hands to his temple, eyes closed, wrestling his mind against something too great for him to understand, waiting for the moment he’d gain access to the Orb’s powers. It never came. A swirl of energy wrapped around his legs and lifted him into the air as it coiled around his arms like a python – the energy flared and Balack was turned to embers, raining ash down on the Obsidian Order’s best troops below. Predictably, they raised their weapons and poured Phaser fire into the Orb. The sound of Energy discharges, cries and screams filled the cavern as plasma ribbons from the Orb surged here and there in response, striking the soldiers down and igniting them to ashes all around the Away Team.
Riker closed his eyes and relaxed in the peaceful grip of the Orb – he knew he had nothing to fear. All around him, a rushing wind pulsed up from the ground. Lightning began discharging in the cavern as the air was ionized beyond breathability. Yet Data and Ro also remained unaffected, following Riker’s example as they too were wrapped in the energy from the Orb. They closed their eyes and faded out from the battle going on around them. The energy continued to grow and the rock strained to hold it within the mountain. Despite all this, they felt bathed by an intense calm. Ro felt her scalp tingling as waves of energy pulsed up her body and her hair fluttered wildly in the rushing updraft. It’s so peaceful in here, she thought. Suddenly, she was in that white void again with her father.
“Do you understand now,” he asked her.
“Yes,” Ro replied, “I think I do.” Her father nodded.
“Good,” he said, “but you cannot remember any of what has happened here.”
“Why not?” Ro asked angrily, caught off guard by a sudden surge of emotion, “What was the point of it all if I don’t remember it?” Her father smiled.
“It revealed who you really are, and regardless of whether you remember that or not, it doesn’t change.”
“But don’t I need to know in order to find the way?” she asked genuinely. Her father sighed.
“Your path lies a different way,” he said, “and you need to follow it to come to the knowledge you need at the time you need it – and that means you cannot find the Orb of Time right now.”
“But how can I follow my path if I don’t know it exists?” she demanded. Her father smiled.
“You will see,” he said and then unclasped his earpiece, putting it into her hand. “I want you to have this. Don’t be ashamed of your people, and don’t be ashamed of me, my daughter. Understand that I died begging the Cardassians for mercy, not to preserve my life, but so that I could stay alive and protect you.” The truth that flowed over Ro at this moment overcame her natural reactions and she wrestled her tears back.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, and then he turned and walked into the light and everything faded.
Ensign Ro Laren woke up with a start in her Quarters on the Enterprise. Ugh! What a dream! she thought, feeling a little sick to her stomach, “That’s the last time I try Ferengi cuisine!” She lay under the covers for a few more minutes before pushing them off, climbing out of bed, and ordering a glass of water from the replicator. Sipping it slowly, she strode to her window and took in the unusual sight. Outside, the menacing waves of plasma from the Badlands ebbed and flowed just out of reach of the Galaxy class starship. They had been ordered to patrol along this dangerous region of space in a show of force as Cardassian warships were conducting military exercises along the demilitarized zone. The only action they’d seen were some residual Cardassian energy signatures yesterday from inside the Badlands – perhaps a small fleet coming and going from a planet or moon inside the plasma fields. It was a little unusual, especially since there was a momentary trace of chronometric energy that left with them, but as it looked like they’d cleared out of range, it was probably nothing. She sighed. They’d been at it for nearly a week and she’d gotten tired of seeing the plasma fields out her window – she longed for clear open space again. It felt strange being back in Bajoran space and dealing with the Cardassians again, but in a different uniform. She wished they were along the Romulan neutral zone – anywhere but here! This space made her skin crawl with uncomfortable memories. She glanced down at her nightstand and stared. Her father’s earpiece was resting on the wood!
“How did this get here?” She gasped, picking it up. Yes, it was her father’s – she’d recognize it anywhere. She held it limply for a few minutes and then on a sudden impulse strode to the bathroom and gently clasped it to her right ear. It fit perfectly. She stepped back and considered herself – she liked the look. She felt like she was seeing a little piece of her father in the mirror and for once it didn’t revolt her. Suddenly her comm system activated.
“All officers to the Bridge,” Commander Riker’s voice sounded, “prepare for departure from the Badlands.” Ro sighed, unclasping her father’s earpiece and setting it down on a table as she slipped into her uniform. “It’ll be good to get away from this place,” she thought in relief, and yet, she felt a sudden uncomfortable hunger to be with her people. It took her completely by surprise. She lingered on it for a moment. Perhaps she’d look up her relatives when she got a chance and see how they were doing.
“Perhaps,” she muttered, casting her eyes over her quarters one last time before passing out into the hallway on her way to pilot the greatest ship yet built.
