After some unheard give-and-take between Inquisitors (dressed in red and black uniforms with dark masks covering most of their faces) and guards, the latter utilized their remote control "keys" to deactivate a force field leading further into the cell block, one which had only one other occupant as far as Morris could see: a young Hegemony officer (judging by his black uniform) apparently asleep on the floor with no visible concern for his being there.
The lead Inquisitor spoke, pointing accusingly at Morris, Shanoch, Kirsten, and Susan. "You four have been found guilty of violating Galactic Hegemony space and attempting to escape after powering up directed energy weapons for - "
"Excuse me," Morris interrupted, "but what the hell's the Galactic Hegemony?"
"Prisoners shall not speak until asked a direct question requiring an answer," the lead Inquisitor shouted. "Disobedience is punishable by pain induction."
"Mygod, where have we wound up?" Sue whispered.
The Chief Inquisitor nodded to one of the other Inquisitors, who lifted his black-gloved hand and balled it into a tight fist and aimed it directly at Morris through the force field of the cell. A metallic device was attached to the backside of the glove which activated when the hand within was made into a fist. Its twin transmitter prongs shot out a beam of bluish plasma energy.
"Gyiiii!! " Morris screamed, as his body stiffened.
As Shanoch stood and Kirsten and Sue cowered in startlement, Captain Morris was enveloped in a crackling sheath of plasma which seemed to "attack" specific points on his body.
His scream echoed sickeningly throughout the cell block.
Even the slumbering young officer jerked awake and stared out in personal terror at the masked Inquisitors a meter or so from his cell.
As the Chief Inquisitor had the one with the "pain glove" lower his arm (thus ceasing the plasmatic discharges about Captain Morris), he stepped closer to the force field and spoke with a deeply ominous confidence.
"I trust a second 'demonstration' shall not be necessary, alien. If it is, a substantially higher setting shall be -- "
"I don't believe that will be needed," Shanoch cut in, forcefully.
The Chief Inquisitor's barely visible eyes narrowed at the tall Capellan/Klingon. The Inquisitor wearing the pain glove prepared to put Shanoch in his place (agonizingly), but the Chief Inquisitor indicated otherwise.
"The pain induction device creates a 'sympathetic' plasma field around whomever it is aimed at, " the Chief Inquisitor said, instructionally. "The field releases powerful yet compact impacts of energy onto specific nerve points throughout the body. The result, as has been witnessed, is intense pain. The setting used a moment ago is very mild compared to what could be unleashed should any of you prove uncooperative during the interrogation."
"Interrogation? What interrogation?" Sue asked. "We don't know anything."
"You are not native to this space," the Chief Inquisitor told them. "As a result, our High Commandant feels you have a great deal of knowledge to impart. With the right . . . persuasion."
He smiled sadistically as the other Inquisitors slowly shared in the sick humor behind the head Inquisitor's comment.
Panting, Morris said, "So . . . if we don't answer . . . or you don't like the answers . . . your friend will use his pain device on us?"
"Oh, the pain inducing glove is only used to keep peace here in the detention cells or to provide security to myself and my aides." The Chief Inquisitor gestured to the other masked Inquisitors. "The true pain device is a chamber, located in the main interrogation room on the other side of this deck. It's a thousand times more agonizing . . . even on the minimal levels."
Morris looked to Kirsten, who looked to Susan, who, in turn, looked to Shanoch, all with fearful expressions denoting the mutual understanding of how dire their situation had become.
For if they revealed anything about where they came from, their universe could face grave danger. If placed in that chamber, how much pain would it take to break them?
Morris hated the notion that one of them might be responsible for setting such a danger loose on the United Federation of Planets.
First Officer's log, stardate 49159.21 - After about four hours working with Dr. L'Aura, utilizing her unique lineage and intense perceptions of alternate realities, Lt. Commander Orion was finally able to narrow down the once-infinite possibilities of subspace cells to only three.
I've called a meeting of all senior officers to discuss our next step in locating Captain Morris and the others.
With everyone seated attentively about the conference table, Orion launched excitedly into his dissertation as the screen behind him displayed graphics and print-outs.
"Based upon Dr. L'Aura's amazing mathematical grasp of such an abstract concept as alternate universes," Orion began, "as well as her own personal knowledge of such things, we were able to create the most probable computer model to reflect the precise subspace layers or manifolds into which the Euphrates might have gone."
"It was really just a basic question of eliminating the subspace layers which did not conform to a mathematical formula involving the runabout's exact position at the time of the phenomenon," the doctor explained.
"What are the most likely candidates?" Banner asked.
Turning to the screen and tapping some controls to alter what was displayed, the Chief Science Officer turned back toward the gathered officers (in particular, Commander Banner).
"These are the three cells which fulfill all of Dr. L'Aura's mathematical criteria," Orion pointed out. "The three cells which correspond to three alternate realities . . . one of which is the location of our captain."
Pferrin sighed. "Well, three's better than a trillion and three. Still, we've gotta figure out which one of them holds our people and plot a rescue."
Orion switched off the screen then said matter-of-factly, "We program three class-1 sensor probes and launch each into one of the cells by utilizing spatial interphase points. The probes will be programmed to both scan for the Euphrates or emissions from its engines as well as other technologically-advanced life-forms within range of their sensors. If they are in one of these three subspace layers, we'll find them."
"Three class-1 probes?" Banner questioned. "We don't have a lot of those to spare, Mr. Orion. How certain are you and Dr. L'Aura about these choices?"
Orion straightened and glanced at the half-Gallifreyan seated at the table as a silent cue for her to speak on the issue. All eyes turned to L'Aura, as the CMO shifted in her seat.
"Believe me, Mr. Banner, if I wasn't sure the captain was in one of these cells," she said, "Mr. Orion and I would never have made this recommendation. But, if we are going to send the probes, we need to do so within the next three hours."
"Why?"
Orion answered, very seriously, "Because, Commander, the subspace cells are closing."
Science Officer's log, stardate 49159.21 - The three class-1 probes have been programmed to search for signs of the runabout as well as life-readings and comm badge signals.
The hardest part was outfitting the probes with a special signal booster which could cut through the subspace interference of the manifolds they'll enter. Also, we've reconfigured the long-range sensors so that they can detect the faint signals coming through.
After the launching of the three specially-programmed class-1 sensor probes, Orion began his delicately orchestrated control at the main science console, backed up by other science officers working in concert on secondary science stations.
L'Aura, much to her own great relief, returned to deck 7 and her beloved Sickbay. While Commander Banner sat in the center seat, commanding the Bridge in Captain Morris's absence - an honor he'd be happy to return to Morris once a rescue had been successfully executed.
"I'm receiving signals from the probes, Commander," Orion announced. "Telemetry indicates each has entered alternate universes."
"Any signs of the runabout, Commander Orion?"
Orion checked his read-outs. "Not yet, sir. But you must keep in mind that these signals are not 100%. Possibly 60%, at best. It'll take a few minutes to sort out a lot of the background 'noise' generated by the subspace manifolds."
Banner sighed. "O.K., Mr. Orion, but according to deadline estimates you and Dr. L'Aura calculated, we now have one hour and 45 minutes left until these signals are lost. Not to mention the probes themselves."
Feeling the implied pressure from his commanding officer, Orion sped up his program entries through his console in order to shorten the length of time needed to clarify readings.
The minutes ticked by at a seemingly slow pace. But Orion's persistence and the implied pressure from Commander Banner paid off.
"Got them!" Orion announced excitedly.
As every head snapped in the direction of the main science station, Banner leaped from the captain's chair and dashed to Orion's side, his eyes studying the dizzying display of graphics, read-outs, and equations even as he asked, "Coordinates, Mr. Orion?"
Fine-tuning the controls, Orion said, "Within that universe, 172 mark 86 . . . as best as the probe's sensors can calculate. They're on board a much larger craft than the runabout, however."
"Explain."
"It's some sort of unknown configuration and construction indigenous to that reality."
"But our sensors can pick up the life-signs and comm badge signals of Captain Morris and the others . . . right?"
"Enough to verify they are on that massive ship, yes."
"But not enough to beam them out of there via our link with the probe," Banner said. "Is that what you're saying?"
Orion sighed. "Yes, sir."
Banner began to pace. "Damn it, Mr. Orion, there's got to be a solution here."
The Tetran paused two, perhaps, three full seconds to let his highly analytical mind examine the dilemma from all sides.
Then he snapped his incredibly articulate fingers, exclaiming, "I've got it!"
Gray spun to him with an expression that silently shouted for the Chief Science Officer to elaborate. And quickly!
"We can remotely navigate the probe to within 10,000 kilometers of the ship and boost its sensor equipment to 110 percent," Orion explained. "Not only would we be able to pinpoint the captain and the others, we'd be able to execute a relayed beam-out as well. Probably within a couple of seconds after locating them precisely."
"It'd have to be a couple of seconds, Mr. Orion," Gray told him. "Because that's about how long it'll take for that monster of a ship to blow our probe to subatomic particles."
"Don't worry, sir," Orion said confidently, "I can have them back on the Solar Wind with at least a millisecond to spare."
As a self-satisfied smirk played upon Orion's face, Gray returned to the command chair in the midst of it all, his eyes on the viewscreen and his mind on his missing friends and colleagues.
Captain's log, no stardate - In the time we've been captives of this massive vessel . . . has it been hours? . . . myself, Lieutenant Commander Shanoch, Sue Green, and Kirsten McClure have been subjected to unspeakable torment at the hands of humanoid beings referring to themselves as Inquisitors. Who, we are told, answer directly to the Old Ones, supremely powerful beings who control this reality with terror and death.
Apparently, in this universe, the Old Ones are more ominous and powerful than even the Borg. Only they are not a hive mind trying to assimilate cultures. The Old Ones are an ancient race whose lineage can be traced back hundreds of thousands of years, a race whose technology became something akin to magic. A "magic" which, apparently, had encroached briefly upon our universe a few times.
Their special brand of darkness has been at the heart of pagan religions and witchcraft in our universe and they've even clearly influenced our folklore and horror tales by such authors as H.P. Lovecraft. Mention of this has cropped up in various encounters with Starfleet vessels.
Now, we find ourselves in their clutches. It's like being in Hell.
"ARRRRGGGG!!"
Shanoch's shriek of agony reverberated through the main interrogation chamber with the same booming resonance as his speaking voice. The pain induction chamber which surrounded him did little to buffer his expression of non-physical torture via his body's nerve centers.
"Why are you doing that?" Morris shouted from his restraining cell. "He answered all your questions about Starfleet security procedures."
The Chief Inquisitor slowly made his way toward the single-person, force-field-enshrouded cell with the other two Inquisitors in close tow.
Morris wasn't concerned about himself at that particular moment, not with one of his people being uselessly tormented by these heartless humanoids.
Susan and Kirsten, on the other hand (each in their own little force field cells), trembled at the approach of the dark-clad masked men, these givers of pain, these sadistically evil minions of the Old Ones.
"Because, my dear Captain Morris, we enjoy it," the Chief Inquisitor said. "Hahaha!"
It was the only display of emotion by the Inquisitors since the capture of the runabout by one of the Old Ones' marauding motherships.
And it was bone chilling.
"We've answered all your questions!" Morris told him. "What next? What next ?!"
"You'll answer mine ," came an ominous voice.
It was the High Commandant.
As all eyes turned toward the 10-meter-tall doors hissing open, the robed and hooded figure in charge of the monstrous vessel slowly "glided" across the main interrogation room's floor amidst dull-white fog which could numb the skin of whomever it might touch. The Inquisitors dropped obediently to one knee and bowed their heads in servile reverence to the unseen being.
Morris immediately made the connection: This was one of the Old Ones he'd learned of since their short but painful captivity.
The High Commandant glided up to the captain's cell and stared out from the shadows of his hood (no eyes visible, but an icy "burn" touching Morris's mind). His voice almost thundered as a weakened Shanoch looked over from the pain induction chamber, his nerve endings still twitching with remembered hell.
"Captain Morris, the Old Ones have stood as lords and masters of this galaxy in this universe for tens-of-thousands of years," the High Commandant told him. "All life, every race, each world bows to our will. Our word is law and whole civilizations fall if we so desire it. Without a second thought on behalf of those we 'employ.' We are not satisfied.We wish to reach out to your universe. Your galaxy. And we have determined that you and your companions may be the key to finally open the door between our realities. So the Old Ones can fulfill what was begun thousands of years in your world's past."
Morris asked curiously, "How . . . how can we four be a key to such a thing?"
As if it were an answer, the unseen being within the robe and hood began to laugh maniacally, the evil sound resounding as it bounced off the high walls and ceiling of the main interrogation room. Slowly, still laughing at Morris's query, the High Commandant turned and glided back toward the huge ten-meter-tall doors.
The strange fog receded as he went, as if it were truly a part of him. Of all Old Ones.
Whatever their actual physical make-up, Morris shuddered at the realization that what he'd been told was truth. The four of them were the keys to opening the interdimensional doorway between these two universes.
And he suddenly knew how.
"Ready to transport, Commander," Orion informed.
Gray swivelled the command chair back toward the main viewscreen, which showed the Tholian homeworld along with a chart of nearby interphase points.
"Energize, Mr. Orion," he ordered.
As per the programming Orion had written with the help of Lieutenant Pferrin at Ops, all the starship's power (save for life support and Sickbay) was momentarily diverted and shunted to the main transporter room's circuitry, which, thanks largely to Orion's reconfiguration via the main science console on the Bridge, now compressed a high-powered broad beam and directed it toward one of the intersection points and a rapidly closing subspace layer.
As the Inquisitors looked on with stupefied expressions on the exposed portion of their faces, the four individually caged Euphrates crewmembers they'd been so mercilessly interrogating began to dematerialize in a mass of glitter.
Morris's suspicions were right on the mark.
"Stop them!" the Chief Inquisitor roared.
The one with the pain glove obediently and unhesitantly lifted it toward the sparkling outlines and unleashed its agony-inducing energies. Energies which had no corporeal nerve centers to influence or torment.
The unexpected sense of loss and failure shone from the eyes of the Chief Inquisitor as he stared at four empty force field cells and swallowed hard on the terror welling up within his throat.
"The High Commandant will not be pleased," he said to the other Inquisitors. "I shall not survive that displeasure."
No sooner had the four battered officers solidified upon the pad of the main transporter room than Captain Morris weakly exclaimed, "Red Alert! Get us the hell out of here!"
Then he collapsed face first on the transporter pad as the others dropped limply to their knees.
The Bzzit Khaht transporter chief hit its comm badge and gurgled, "Medical emergency in main transporter room! Trauma team needed immediately with four stretchers! Commander Banner . . . ?"
"Yes, Chief V'Gok ," came Gray's voice.
"The captain has ordered a Red Alert and ordered the Solar Wind out of the area," the transporter chief hissed.
"Understood. Bridge out. "
Just then, the doors parted and a trauma team that included Dr. L'Aura and Head Nurse Ma'rain Marley swiftly entered with anti-grav gurneys equipped with bio-bed monitors. L'Aura's medical tricorder was open and scanning.
L'Aura had her tricorder on Morris.
"Severe neural shock. No structural damage," she reported. "Pain registrations near highest human levels. Ma'rain, administer neuro-sedation until transfer to Sickbay."
As Nurse Marley and Nurse Blish used their hyposprays to do just that, the other nurses accompanying L'Aura carefully but quickly placed the four on the gurneys and secured them via containment fields while rushing out of the transporter room back to Sickbay. L'Aura nodded approvingly toward V'Gok just before exiting herself.
"Good thinking, Chief," she said. "Their weakened nervous systems couldn't have withstood an intraship beaming to Sickbay."
V'Gok gurgled a thank you.
As the doors to Sickbay parted to admit a deeply worried First Officer, Morris was lying on a bio-bed with its diagnostic displays actively detailing his physical and neurological condition. As were Shanoch, Sue Green, and Kirsten McClure, lined along one bulkhead as if they were life-size dolls put away until a giant child wished to play with them again.
As expected, L'Aura was hovering nearby, her highly trained eyes looking over all the medical data pertaining to each of her four patients. Like Susan, she wore glasses from some time period in the distant past.
"How's the captain?" Gray asked. "Will he recover?"
Straightening her glasses, L'Aura gave the commander a chastising glare while gesturing almost regally toward the other three persons in her care.
"In case you've forgotten, Commander . . . four officers were in that runabout when it was lost."
"I haven't forgotten that fact, Doctor," he told her, looking over at the unmoving Sue Green on the bio-bed. "Believe me, not in the least . . . but this ship's commanded by only one of them. At the moment, the Solar Wind needs the captain back on the Bridge."
"That may be so, Commander," L'Aura replied, indicating the medical read-outs, "but according to this, he's not going back up for several hours. None of them will be able for duty for several hours . . . and then the duty will have to be light or moderate. Which, as is usually the case, wouldn't be so with our Captain Morris. Like it or not, Gray, you may have to stay in charge for a while longer."
"What about the things he said to V'Gok?" Gray asked her. "I can't simply ignore it. It could be a warning we must heed to survive."
"Yes, Commander, but it's more likely a psychic shock or trauma brought on by being jerked back from another universe. A universe wherein it appears he and the others have undergone great physical stress."
Gray sighed. "I don't think so, Doctor. The captain's not one to let any amount of physical or psychic stress cause him to pronounce a danger against his ship and crew that did not exist. Now, as acting captain of the Solar Wind , I order you to bring him around so I can get the information I need to make a decision."
L'Aura glared at the younger officer (centuries younger than she) and seemed absolutely irate. Fortunately, she was Starfleet-trained and half-Gallifreyan . . . so that anger remained in perfect check.
Still, it was there and she wouldn't forget this moment for a long time to come. Which, for L'Aura, could be another 370-plus years.
"Very well, Mr.Banner. But I shall not take responsibility for this medically unsound action."
"So noted. Proceed."
Retrieving a hypospray and loading it with a typical neuro-stimulator (set at a low dosage setting), L'Aura pressed it against the captain's neck with the familiar hiss of medicinal delivery into his bloodstream, as Jerry watched with tense anticipation.
Seconds after the administration of the neuro-stimulator, Morris sat bolt upright in the bio-bed.
"Get us the hell out of here!" he coughed, flailing his arms uncontrollably.
Gray rushed to him. "Captain, Captain . . . it's O.K., you're back aboard the Solar Wind ."
Grabbing a hypospray and reloading it, L'Aura said, "Commander, I'm going to have to sedate him again. He's out of control."
"But I still need to know , Doctor," Gray told L'Aura, holding onto Morris's arms. "So hold off on that hypo . . . please."
L'Aura hesitated. "Very well, Mr. Banner, but only one minute more. In matters such as this, my authority as CMO supersedes your's as acting captain."
"I'm well aware of the regs, Doctor," Gray said impatiently, then he turned to Morris. "Captain? I need to know why I should move the ship? What danger is there?"
Morris calmed himself. "The Old Ones . . . pure evil and pure power. They were waiting for this rescue . . . to make it possible for them to enter our reality. Gray, we have to get away from here! Contact Starfleet! Inform the Tholians! Marshall some sort of frontline defense! Now! "
Morris grabbed his First Officer by the collar of his uniform, the captain's face filled with desperate rage and urgency, as well as a face filled with authority.
"Now , Commander, now! "
Stepping away from the bio-bed, giving L'Aura room to move in with a sedative, Banner slapped his comm badge with purpose.
"First Officer to Bridge. Red Alert. Repeat: Red Alert. Move the Solar Wind away from the Tholian homeworld."
" But, Commander, what about the diplomatic Away Team on the surface? " Pferrin asked. " We can't -- "
"That's an order, Mister!" Gray shouted. "I want some serious distance between us and that closing subspace cell in seconds. I'm on my way back up. Banner out."
Another hiss brought the serious First Officer's attention back to the bio-bed upon which lay his captain and friend, the tension and sense of urgency still etched into his rugged features as he once again slipped into a drug-induced unconsciousness.
"Get . . . ship . . . out . . . of . . . dang-ger-rrrr- " Morris said as he faded off into comfortable oblivion.
No sooner had the sedative taken effect than Commander Banner disappeared through the Sickbay doors on his way back to the Bridge.
The Solar Wind streaked away from the Tholia system.
On the tension-filled Bridge, Gray Banner sat stiffly in the command chair, his eyes narrowed and focused upon a rear-angled display on the main viewscreen of the area of space they'd left behind.
Gray turned his head to the science station. "Anything, Mr. Orion?"
Orion had all long-range and short-range sensors trained on the area corresponding to where the captain and his runabout crew had been taken. The read-outs were coming fast and furious and, to a large extent, garbled. Orion was feverishly attempting to sort out the confused sensor signals and display the truth.
"A massive outrush of all forms of EM radiation, Commander," Orion reported. "Gamma, X-ray, tachyon bursts, dirac emissions . . . "
"Mr. Orion?" Gray interrupted the Tetran's technospeak.
"Sorry. Basically, the closing of this layer of subspace is playing as much havoc with the electromagnetic spectrum and fabric of space as it is with our sensors. It's as if whatever's on the other side's coming through."
Suddenly, Gray understood Morris's fears, his seemingly insane sense of urgency in moving the Solar Wind . Finally, it all made sense.
"So that's what he was talking about," Gray said to himself, then turned to Pferrin at Ops. "Mr. Pferrin, I want all weapons powered up to 100 percent and at my disposal. Shunt power away from less significant systems if you have to."
"Aye, sir," Pferrin replied, puzzled.
"Itram, lay in a hairpin course which will take us directly back toward the Tholian system," Gray told Ensign Yhprum. "Have its execution on immediate stand-by to be initiated at my command."
"Yes, Commander," the young Trill at the helm said. "Course plotted. On stand-by per your orders."
Gray activated his comm badge. "Bridge to Engineering. Mr. RaJa, I'm going to need Warp 4 in another few minutes."
" I don't know, sir, we've still got a lot of damage to repair before- "
"It's not an option, Mr. RaJa," Banner told him. "I'll need Warp 4 in a few minutes."
RaJa blew out a breath. " Understood, Commander. But I'm going to need some serious R&R after this. Sir. "
Gray smiled. "I think we all are. Bridge out." He half-turned to Orion. "Mr. Orion?"
"Clearing, Commander," Orion said, adjusting his controls. "Most of the residual radiation and background -- oh, no! It's not possible."
Suddenly, every eye and ear on the Bridge shifted to the science station as Orion double-checked the sensor readings to make certain it was no mistake.
Though he truly wished it would have been.
Orion's voice was filled with dread. "You'd . . . have to see it to believe it, sir."
Steeling himself for the task of leading his officers during what might well be exceptionally terrifying circumstances, Gray began barking orders in order to focus his command crew.
To Itram, he ordered, "Rear viewer on mag 10, Mr. Yhprum. Prepare to alter course on my mark." He then turned to Orion. "Maintain sensor scans of the area around Tholia. Ops, have weapons ready."
Everyone obeyed as readily as they would have for Captain Morris, which said a lot about the respect they had for their First Officer. The main viewscreen shifted, showing a very long-distance visual of the event which nearly rendered Orion speechless.
"Oh, mygods."
"What are they?"
"How can this even be possible?"
"What'll we do?"
As Gray's eyes widened in the same momentary fear felt and expressed by those around him, the entire Bridge crew silently watched as what appeared to be planet-sized, ghostly apparitions wearing hooded robes stretched out their arms to allow hundreds of sinister ships (small and huge pyramid shapes) to streak out in all directions, most concerning themselves with their nearest planetary target: the Tholian homeworld.
Of course, having detected the EM disturbance on their cosmic doorstep as well as the manifestations emerging, the ever-vigilant Tholians launched countermeasures in the form of hundreds of vessels.
Whatever the possible outcome or the chances of the Tholian ships' surviving, one hell of a fight was about to begin.