Toward Heaven's Floor

[Timoreev_]

ALL ALONG THE WAY...
PART 1

"So, that's the latest report?" the Captain said while taking the small padd in his hands. He gave a brief look to his Chief Science Officer, and the Vulcan girl looked at hime, impassible: "Yes, sir. As you'll see, everything is ready for the procedure."
Timoreev nodded his head. Scrolling quickly the text on the padd, he said: "Then, it'd be better to proceed immediately. Let us find what it is that thing."
Commander Iria didn't answer. She simply nodded, then sorted out from the office. When the doors closed behind her, Timoreev sighed. He reached the window at his left, looking at the stars: so, if they were lucky, answers would come soon; but, more probably, more questions would arise, he thought.
"Fascinating." he said to himself, while mentally retracing the path that led to that moment.


The Ananke had entered the L-685 star system four days before. Immediately, Timoreev ordered full sensor sweeps, in order to locate the exact position of the energy reading they were searching for. While departing DS13, Timoreev had thought that they had to do the job quickly. But the answer from Captain Morton was clear: take all the time you need. And that was exactly what Timoreev had in mind. There wouldn't have been rushes: careful analysis, even a complete re-mapping of the system, if necessary. It was a mystery: maybe a little one, but still a mystery, and Timoreev was terribly curious.
In truth, the sensors of the ship made it easier: after only half an hour, the Ananke was en route toward the position of the feeble signal. It was an asteroid, as Timoreev and his crew thought at first, probably one of the largest bodies in the belt which surrounded the outer rim of the system, not far from the gas giant, lone inhabitant of L-685.
When the Ananke reached her destination, the Science Department was immediately activated: Iria shared with Timoreev the idea that, given they had all the time, the job should've been done well.
The first surprise came almost immediately.
"It's not about a combination of different minerals." Iria said while sitting at her console on the bridge. For a moment, Timoreev thought to have heard a small note of disappointment in her voice: after all, that was her first theory.
"So, what is it?" he asked, maybe with a bit of impatience in the voice.
Iria stood silent for a moment, before answering: "Clearly it's a distinct body. A small one. Sensors still have problems penetrating the surface of the asteroid."
"A rambling rock?"
"Maybe." Iria was working ceaselessly on the console: "Or some sort of probe."
Silence. Then, Iria spoke again: "Here we are. It's definitely artificial, sir."
The first idea that flashed in Timoreev's head was to take a closer look to the mysterious object directly, through the use of a shuttle; however, the idea soon proved to be unfeasible.
"The object is enclosed in a sort of cave inside the asteroid." Iria said during the meeting in the briefing room the Captain convened to discuss the issue.
"No problem then. We could reconfigure the phaser emitters of the shuttle in order to make them fit for high-frequency mine lasers." Halora, the Bolian Chief Engineer, said loudly, almost enthusiastic.
Timoreev asked, to no one in particular: "Is it feasible?"
"I believe it is not, sir." Iria answered. She rised from her chair, and moved toward the screen behind Timoreev's chair. Everyone moved to look to her. She touched the screen, and a representation of the asteroid immediately appeared, with a whole series of data about its composition, structure, and movements.
"Unfortunately, preliminary scans of the asteroid composition made the use of mining lasers unfeasible to resolve our situation." the Vulcan said with the customary calm "Indeed, it could cause a chain reaction, with the consequent collapse of the cave...and the probable destruction of the object. It's the opinion of our geologists that something similar is what happened when the cave itself was formed."
"Do you mean that the object was trapped in there when the entrance collapsed?" Sarah Morisette, first officer, intervened.
"That's an hypothesis we have made. And I personally agree with it. It's consistent with the evidences we have."
"Then....there's one alternative."[/color] Timoreev said suddenly "What about a transporter beam?"
There was a brief moment of silence, than Halora erupted enthusiastically, as she was just emerging from a series of deep, yet brilliant, thoughts: "It's possible! Of course, it would need a work of reconfiguration of the beam in order to overcome any possible interference similar to those which created problems to our sensors. But it's definitely possible."
"Iria?"
The Vulcan stood silent for a moment, meditating. Then, she answered: "I agree."
Halora didn't say anything, but she was clearly happy to hear that. And Timoreev was satisfied as well: "Then, let's go. Begin the reconfiguration immediately. I want to know what's in that cave. Dismissed."

[Timoreev_]

ALL ALONG THE WAY...
PART 2

When Timoreev stepped into the bridge, Halora was looking just in his direction, probably waiting for the captain to show up: "Sir, everything is ready. All the modifications have been tested, and we are ready to proceed."
It was easy to recognize a note of pride in her voice. She was always proud when her engineering skills were involved in something. Timoreev smiled: "Very well. Proceed."
Halora and Iria began working on their respective consoles, while Timoreev approached the captain's chair. Morisette was standing just at its left. She nodded her head, her face the mask of seriousness: "Captain."
Timoreev looked at her: "Something's going on, Morisette?" For a moment, a brief moment, he was to call her by her name. He was still not very accustomed of having her best friend as executive officer on a bridge.
"Nothing, sir. I'm simply concerned about what we're doing."
Timoreev was no seated on the chair: "About what, exactly?"
"Sir, with all due respect, we don't know what is out there. It could be dangerous."
Timoreev nodded: "Indeed. It's always dangerous, Morisette. That's our job. By the way, I understand your concern. But all the possible precautions have been taken." He gave a look to Iria: "And, also, do you really think our Chief Science Officer would allow something bad to happen?" he was smiling.
Morisette kept a note of seriousness in her voice while answering: "To say the truth, Captain, I'm beginning to think if Vulcans really don't feel emotions. I looked to her for almost an hour and I can say she seems almost....excited."
"Well, except for our expedition on PY-778, you have to admit she didn't have many opportunities to perform true scientific exploration in the past, especially when she was on board.....what was the name of that ship?"
"The Hemingway, sir." The voice of Iria took Timoreev by surprise. He had completely forgotten that she could be listening. He cleared his throat, then he looked at the screen. Slightly embaracced.


The procedure was as quick as expected: after few seconds, the signal was catched, and the thing (whatever it was) was transported down in one of the laboratories of the ship, specifically prepared and equipped for the occasion.
Iria was waiting for him, when Timoreev stepped into the room.
"Here is our new...guest." she said.
Timoreev moved toward a big niche at the bottom of the room, where an invisible forcefield was up to separate it from the surrounding environment: and there, on a circular table, laid the mysterious object which had sparked so much curiosity. For a brief moment, Timoreev felt disappointed: it was a small, brown-coloured cilinder, not larger than his own arm; one of the ends was occupied by a sort of circular lens.
"It doesn't seem active." he commented, still looking at the object: "What is it?"
"However, it IS active, Captain." Iria answered, plainly: "I'm detecting the same readings we had from our external sensors. I can suppose it's a sort of distress signal, or a way the drone has to keep itself active while saving energy from its other systems."
"So, it's a drone." Timoreev replied.
"That's the only definition I can think of. But we still don't know nothing about its specific functions. We need to run more analysis, particularly on its internal systems and programs. Maybe we could discover something on its internal matrix. I believe it is a pretty sophisticated piece of technology."
Timoreev didn't comment the words of his chief science officer. He looked again at the strange object, silently.


It was only four hours after that "first encounter", that the situation became weirder. Timoreev was in the mess hall, quietly drinking one of his favorite drinks: a cup of mors. When he first came on board the starship, he remembered, it was quiet a disappointment to discover that the replicators didn't have the recipe for a mors. What an incredible shame! He spent almost three hours (his first free time on board the Ananke) programming the replicator with the exact recipe he learned from his grandmother: if previously the Ananke didn't have mors, now it would have had the best of the best! By the way, he preferred to make the drink with his own hands with fresh ingredients. But sometimes there was no time for it. Luckily for him, that wasn't one of those moments, and he was now seated near the window (one of his favorite positions), quietly drinking the familiar red-colored juice.
The combadge ringed: "Timoreev here." he answered.
It was Morisette: "Captain, you should come immediately in the lab."
When he rushed into the laboratory, he found himself surrounded by members of the science department working feverishly at their stations. Iria was among them, together with Halora, two ensigns of the engineering department, and Morisette.
He didn't have time to ask anything, because his attention was immediately captured by the niche: the same niche where he left the strange object laying seemingly-dead. But, now the object was....flying.
But Iria didn't wait for a question: "We were analyzing the internal matrix when suddenly it activated itself." she said.
"It activated itself? How?"
"We don't know." Halora intervened: "Probably it was simply...sleeping, ready to react in case of an intervention upon the matrix or other systems."
Timoreev kept looking at the drone: suspended in mid-air, it was moving fast from one side of the niche to the other: "What is it doing?"
"I believe it's trying to understand where it is...or, maybe, how to escape."
"Well, in theory this should be an opportunity to exactly understand what we are handling with." Timoreev said. He made some steps toward the forcefield, the eyes on the flying drone. He could feel something attracting him to that object. The drone stopped its convulsive movements; the circular lens, now lit by a yellow light, was pointed toward him. Timoreev was now at one meter from the drone. It was like looking in the eyes of a living creature.
Then, suddenly, the yellow light intensified, and the drone began to emit a series of disarticulated sounds, resuming its feverish movements all around the niche.
"What the hell..." Timoreev commented.

[Timoreev_]

ALL ALONG THE WAY...
PART 3

It was Iria who first understood the role of the drone.
She communicated her findings in the second meeting they had, two days after the recovery.
"It's a mining drone."
"A mining drone?" was the reply of captain Timoreev: "How is it possible? I mean: there are no traces of mining stations in the entire system."
Morisette intervened: "A ship maybe..."
"Yes, it's possible. But what happened to such a ship? There are no debris, nor other traces of any kind of ship." Halora said, clearly enthusiastic of the new discoveries.
"Probably the answer lays in the other discovery we've made." Iria said plainly: "That is: the drone is almost three thousands years old."
Timoreev didn't reply immediately. His eyes were on the table, while he was immersed in deep thoughts. Then, he suddenly emerged: "Five thousands, you say? It's quiet ancient."
"Indeed, sir. And also quiet advanced. Its sensors are incredibly powerful, and its software is ages beyond anything we have seen until now. We didn't manage to penetrate very deeply inside its matrix, but I'm sure about that."
"How is it possible that it was still active now?" Morisette asked, curious.
"As we guessed at first, it had a specific program which enabled it to stay dormant in such an emergency situation, awaiting for recovery. Probably, its sensors noticed the passage of our ship when we first detected the signal, triggering its re-activation." Halora intervened.
"Any evidence about who constructed it?"
"No clue, sir. Its external surface is made of a strong alloy: many elements are common, but few others are impossible to determine, at the moment. Maybe, a more specialized laboratory could carry out further analysis."
"So we should take the drone to DS13, I guess." Timoreev said.


Differently from his officers, Timoreev felt something weird about that whole situation.
Since the first time he "met" that drone, he didn't felt comfortable. There was something about it which he could not explain: a sensation, a feeling. Something indecipherable. That yellow light pointing toward him....
His feelings were further reinforced few hours after that meeting, when Halora called him to the lab.
"I have found something of interest" she said with her customary enthusiastic tone: "I already thought there was something weird about the internal matrix of our guest, so I tried to find more about that. And, indeed, there's something."
"What is it?" Timoreev was curious to know. An answer to their many questions, finally?
"I'm not an expert of this technology, of course. There's plenty of things which we still don't understand too well, and the coding language is more complex that we thought at first, and..."
Timoreev abruptly interrupted her: "Please, Halora. What is it?"
Was he so nervous?
"I found traces of a second matrix."
Timoreev was aghast: "How is it possible?"
"No idea about that. But there's a second matrix. Or, to be more precise: there has been an attempt, by a second matrix, to overcome the first one. A sort of substitution."
"A virus?"
"Kind of. It's like the drone has been infected by an external source. Probably, that's the reason of its strange behavior too."
Both moved their eyes toward the small niche where the drone was still running around frenetically. It never stopped.


The mysterious second matrix left only one trace: a command, connected to a single word. However, it was impossible to discover more about that. Halora used all her abilities (and energies) to find more, to no avail.
Then, Timoreev took his decision: "There's no reason for us to stay here anymore." he said to a meeting in the conference room two days after the discovery of the second matrix: "We have completed all possible rounds of sensor analysis in the system, and we have found the reason we came here."
[i3]"I think we now know the exact position of every single particle in the system."[/i] Morisette joked.
Halora smiled, but Timoreev was deadpan. He still didn't feel comfortable about their findings: "We'll depart for Deep Space Thirteen at once, if there are no objections."
The others didn't answer.
"Very well then." the captain looked at Morisette: "Plot a course to Deep Space Thirteen at warp five. Dismissed."
The officers left, one by one, the room. Only Timoreev didn't move a muscle.
For a moment, his thoughts brought him back to old memories, and old feelings: he felt, very distinctly, a deep nostalgia of Earth, of Moscow. He felt the distance separating him from....
But his thoughts were interrupted by a suddent tremot of the ship. A second after, the red alert was activated.
"Timoreev here." he said after pressing his combadge.
"Sir, something is happening in the lab."
"I'm coming."


The ship trembled three other times before Timoreev reached the bridge.
"Status report."
Morisette left the captain's chair: "The drone activated a mining laser immediately before the warp drive was engaged. It broke the lab walls and went into space."
"What?" Timoreev looked alternatively toward Iria and Halora: "Explanations?"
Halora was clearly aghast. Iria instead answered: "None, sir."
"It hasn't warp capabilities, hasn't it?" Timoreev asked.
"No, sir." Iria said again: "It's proceeding at sublight speed toward the edge of the system."
"Helm: intercept course. Full impulse."
The pursuit had begun.


Incredibly enough, the drone was hard to catch. It proceeded forward, not modifying its course of a single centimeter. Looking at the screen, maximum amplification, Timoreev had the feeling it was desperate to escape.
Desparate? But it was a thing!
Halora was the first to break the silence reigning on the bridge: "Sir, maybe I've an explanation: the second matrix has overcome the first one."
Timoreev stood up from the chair, looking at his chief engineer: "How?"
"I cannot explain it exactly. But the second command has been activated. Also, the drone is transmitting. It's a single word, and I cannot identify the receiver."
"Oh. Good." Timoreev almost fell on the chair: "Very good."
"There's something else: the drone is overheating." Iria said plainly: "It cannot keep this speed much longer."
"So we can catch him." Morisette replied, with a note of satisfaction in her voice.
"Prepare a tractor beam and a transporter room."
"It should lower the speed any moment now." Iria said again: "It cannot keep it anymore. Overheating is increasing at dangerous levels."
It was a matter of seconds, Timoreev thought. What mysteries that drone was hiding? Many and many questions were crowding his mind.
Then, it happened: as a light on the background of darkness, the drone exploded.


Timoreev was looking at the stars. Standing up in front of the window in his ready room, immersed in his thoughts, his mind floating among the memories and the unanswered questions while the stars were passing away in front of his eyes.
The sound from the doorbell brought him back, almost with violence: "Come in."
He didn't move to see the newcomer. He saw Morisette reflected into the window.
"What is it?"
"We'll reach Deep Space Thirteen in two hours, sir." she said, the voice calm, almost soft.
"Nothing else?"
"Well, sir...there's something...about that drone.."
Now Timoreev was looking at her: "Tell me."
Morisette didn't answer immediately. There was a silent pause of few seconds: "Halora and Iria managed to decipher the word which the drone was transmitting, working with the universal translator and jointly with the Linguistic Section of the Science Department, and..."
"And....?" Timoreev was impatient.
"The word was: home."

[Timoreev_]

COSMONAUTS
PART 1

"That's our ship, then."
"An old Excelsior class?"
"Damn, it's terrible...I heard it was mothballed at least twice..."
"Is it SO old?"
These were only few of the many comments I heard that day, in the hall of one of the docks of Deep Space Thirteen. All my colleagues were looking through the big windows, to that old relic of Starfleet past (at least, that was their thought). I was looking as well, of course: that vessel was my third assignment in my career, but it was the first one really on the verge of deep space.
They weren't exactly excited: I could say they were disappointed. I knew few of them: there were two old friends of the times at the Academy, and at least three people whom I had the occasion to meet during my previous assignments. None of them was truly happy of our new destination.
"Have you seen that amazing one?"
"Which one this time?"
I was having my breakfast with Peter Crondell, one of those old Academy friends.
"It's the October, I believe. A Yorktown class if I remember well..."
"What....did you check its class?"
He looked at me as I was insulting him: "Of course I checked its class. I checked the whole roster of ships on this starbase."
Of course, at the time we didn't know yet what our assignment was. We were transferred few days before that conversation: I was previously stationed on board the USS Rihlah, a Sovereign class vessel; Crondell was coming from a post on board the USS Zh'let, Concorde class. We were only informed to reach DS13. Our final destination would've been confirmed there. So we were waiting there.
"Don't say it...you hope to be assigned on board that ship, don't you?"
"Of course I hope so. Alternatively, there are other good candidates: few Odysseys, a Vesta, an Aventine...even another Concorde. There's plenty of choice." he was clearly excited.
But it was not the case when we were finally informed of what our true destination was. It happened just few hours after that breakfast: we were sitting in the promenade, when we were approached by a young (well, relatively young, I guess) Vulcan girl with the rank of commander.
"Lieutenant Crondell?" she asked, plainly, to my friend.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And I suppose you are lieutenant Sumida." she said to me.
She didn't even wait for my response: "I'm Commander Iria, Chief Science Officer of the USS Ananke. I'm here to inform you that you've been both assigned to the vessel in question, under my direct command."
We didn't say anything. And, probably, it was exactly the reaction the commander was expecting: "Boarding will commence tomorrow. Once on board, you'll have to check with the first officer, Commander Morisette. Then, I'll meet you again. The exact timing will be sent to you via padd. Have a nice day." Then she left us.
Crondell, who kept a perfect mask of neutrality on his face until she was in visual range, suddenly showed all his disappointment: "Did she say...Ananke?"
"That's what I heard." I answered, plainly.
The tone of his voice seemed desperate: "What? Really?"
"Really. And I really don't see where the problem is. Don't say me that the Ananke was not in the roster you checked."
"Oh...it was there, it was there." he said, still desperate: "That's the problem: it's an Excelsior class, Kanae. An Excelsior class!"
"So?"
"It's old!"

Personally, I didn't care about the age of the ship. But that was clearly not the case for the others. Probably, when they first received the news of a new assignment, they were all thinking the same: a new, exciting adventure into the unexplored. But, to be really exciting, such an adventure would require an equally exciting (technologically speaking) brand new starship, eventually. And now, they were looking through that window, to that too-familiar shape: that of an Excelsior class vessel. What a disappointment.
We were walking into the connector, directed to the entrance of the starship, when Crondell reached me.
It was the boarding day.
"Then, here we are." he seemed to have recovered a bit of his old good mood, but not so much as to forget where he was going to embark.
"Yes, we are. I suppose you spent all the evening searching for info about the ship..."
"Indeed, that's what I did. And I found many interesting facts."
"So?" I was curious.
"Just to begin: it's really, really old. It was one of the last old-type Excelsiors even to be commissioned by Starfleet. And the others in the hall were right: it has been mothballed in the past...before the Klingon War."
"A gift for you." I chuckled.
He refused to notice the irony: "An interesting thing for you: the Captain..."
"What's wrong with the Captain?"
"He has been on the Rihlah for quiet a lot of time. He served as first officer of Captain Endermann, before the promotion."
"What a weird coincidence...." I said, briefly immersed in my own thoughts: "What's his name?"
"Timoreev. He's from Earth, just like you."
Timoreev. I met him before. Well, I'm not sure it could be defined as such. It was in one of the corridors of the Rihlah, just after my assignment there. I recognized him because he had the rank of Commander. Nothing else, not a word, not a glance. He left the Rihlah soon after that brief encounter.
"Are you listening to me, Kanae?"
Crondell was looking at me. It was clear that I lost some of his speech.
He didn't wait for an answer. Sighing, he said: "Well, I was wondering that all the new officers boarding today are of the science department, and particularly specialized in the field of xenobiology and xenoethnology."
"I suppose that's why I'm here" I smiled "Finally Starfleet recognized that a xenobiologist is useful in deep space." I chuckled again.
Then, I stopped. My eyes were caught by the line of the starship: now, she was far nearer than before. I stared at the windows in the hull, or into the big saucer. I'd already seen many starships in my life, so I didn't expect to be caught by such a view again. However, that was exactly what happened. There was something, in that view, which captured me, which arose feelings more suitables for a cadet than an officer. It suddenly reminded me of all my dreams, my hopes, and my desires: those which I have cultivated during my youth and then at the Academy; those which motivated me to pursue that path in Starfleet. It was a powerful and beautiful sensation. And then I didn't listen any more to those comments.

I was a bit surprised when I met Commander Morisette for the first time: she didn't look as I expected. She was young, probably not so much older than me. But she expressed authority nonetheless: her eyes staring at the new officers, it seemed that she was analyzing us in our deep, as to discover eventual flaws in....something.
"I'm glad to meet you. I'm Commander Morisette, first officer of the USS Ananke. Welcome on board." she said, with a tone of voice which perfectly suited her position: it was cordial, but not friendly. She wanted us to know the roles since the very beginning.
We had to sustain an interview with Morisette, in turn. That meeting was an occasion for me to understand more about her.
I always had a keen attitude in understanding the people around me, since I was a child. I remember my mother when she looked at me, surprised that I had perfectly guess what she was thinking in that precise moment; or my father when I was able to quickly understand what he was concerned about that particular day; or my sister, who soon understood that it was vain to try to hide her thoughts from me. No, I'm not a telepath. It's simply a form of innate intuition, I imagine.
Thus, when I had the opportunity to talk with Commander Morisette face to face, I had the opportunity to learn many things about her: while reporting to her the footsteps of my career in Starfleet, the opportunities I hoped to exploit in a deep space assignment, I was looking at her, and through her. However, it's difficult for me to divide the things I learnt that time from what I understood in the subsequent months: I don't rememeber, for example, if it was in that room that I understood how she was deeply committed to Starfleet and its mission. It wasn't a matter of passion, or simple interest: it was something deeper, far deeper. In Morisette, Starfleet was everything, the whole universe; and its principles were the immutable, unquestionable, principles which regulate the whole universe. Starfleet and Space were an obsession for her. But, inside, in the deep, there was a presence: seemingly invisible, but still there, the Doubt stood. It was a powerful one: so powerful, that, should have arisen to her consciousness, it could have destroyed everything.
Commander Iria, my direct superior, was, as a Vulcan, far more difficult to understand at first. But, after we had the occasion to work together many times, I learnt many things about her as well: I came to respect not only her deep knowledge, but also her deep, sincere, passion for the quest for knowledge. Maybe passion could appear to be the wrong word, talking about a Vulcan: but really I couldn't find a more suitable term. She always wanted to know more, to understand more, about everything which surrounded her. She was rarely satisfied by the first answer she found to any particular question.
I met Commander Tlaive Escott, Chief Medical Officer of the Ananke, soon after my boarding, when I had to sustain the routinely medical visit. As a Bolian, he was pretty quiet. I know, probably all those tales about verbose Bolians are nothing more than stereotypes. But I was surprised nonetheless. As I was surprised to see, clear in his eyes, the still-vivid ghosts of the war. Only few months after that first encounter I came to know that he was the officer with the longest service on board that ship: he was there when Captain Yara Tredmore sacrificed herself to save her crew; and he was the last one to see alive that old friend of him. And the ghosts of Tredmore and those past battles never left him from that day.
It was him to give new hope to Crondell. He was complaining about the age of the ship (again): "Maybe you should do your homework, lieutenant." the doctor said (and I didn't understand if he was annoyed in saying it or not) "This ship is not even the same of when I came on board for the first time."
Ironically, Crondell needed a doctor to learn about the new technology of the Resolute which was implemented on the Ananke. Well, at least I didn't hear any more complaints. What a bless.
Then, I met the captain. The Ananke had just completed a routine patrol in the Kelterre sector, and we were lucky: we found a sort of musk on a planetoid, and I had to carry on the preliminary analysis. I knew the captain was no scientist, but he showed (and he did so always) a keen curiosity about any scientific discovery made by the crew. So I had to report to him, directly.
I immediately recognized him, and, most surprisingly, he immediately recognized me.
"It has been a while, Lieutenant." He was smiling while talking with me, something characteristic of him, as I learnt after. It gave him a more cordial tone when approaching the others. But it was also an excellent concealment. Captain Timoreev was a strong man, a typical Starfleet officer with a powerful sense of duty. But beyond that monolithic appearance, he concealed his deepest thoughts and feelings to most of whom he met. When I stepped into his ready room, I found him in a position that, as I was to discover, was very typical of him: standing up, in front of the window, looking at the stars. He always looked at the stars, irresistibly attracted by them, and repulsed at the same time. He was a man of two worlds, with a feet on one side, and another on the other, torn apart inside his spirit, and always striving, desperately, for the definite answers to his questions. He was, under many aspects, the perfect explorer.
Those were the men and women accompanying me in that journey through the stars. Using an ancient word from Timoreev's motherland...those were the cosmonauts.

[Timoreev_]

COSMONAUTS
PART 2

What we saw that day was amazing. Well, to say the truth, we didn't see it with our eyes, of course: the only thing I personally saw were the data from sensors showing the massive amount of verteron particles, then the increasing levels of neutrinos, and, finally, the wormhole opening. But, for me, it was like seeing it with naked eyes.
Captain Timoreev was more lucky: he was on the Endeavour bridge, just in front of the wormhole, when that happened, while the Ananke was ordered to standing by at the edge of the system. It was our first exploration mission far from Deep Space Thirteen since I had come on board the ship. We, the new complement of science officers of the Ananke, were all excited, obviously.
The whole phenomenon didn't last for long: soon after its appearance, the wormhole moved away. Yes, it moved. At first I was shocked. Then Crondell explained to me:
"It's called Barzan Wormhole." he said, with the usual tone of complacency in his voice.
"Uhm...I have only some vague memory of such a name from the Academy, I'm afraid." it was my answer. Crondell didn't look disappointed.
"Of course, it's understandable. It's quiet a rare phenomenon: a wormhole with one fixed entrance, but moving, multiple, exits."
"Looks like a simple concept."
"As simple as that."
I was suddenly captured by that simple definition. One fixed entrance, multiple exits. There was elegance in such a concept.
But what captured me more than everything else, was a striking similitude my mind quickly created: after all, I said to myself, this Barzan Wormhole is not so different from our life.
Our life: one fixed entrance into the universe, but infinite, unpredictable, ways to go out of it; or at least, that's what many believe in.
This thought haunted me for the rest of the day, while the Ananke placidly went back to Deep Space Thirteen. I felt a bit disappointed when I heard of the order to fall back: I had a strong desire to remain in that system, to see what would have happened after that, amazing, encounter; to discover new things about it, although it was not my field of study.
As a xenobiologist, I had spent my whole career analizing life, in many forms: from unicellular beings to sentient beings, they all passed under my scrutiny. And how many times I felt surprised, and amazed, by what we found! Big or small, there was always something new to discover about life when analizing a new lifeform. As a result, for me the word best describing life was only one: surprise.
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to adapt this idea to my own life. For me, my personal life didn't show any true surprise: I used to imagine it as a long, straight, way, simply linking a point A with a point B. No deviations, no surprises. Not like a Barzan wormhole.
Of course, this happened with me not having full consciousness of it. But, nonetheless, it was there, the idea that I had to follow a path, with no way to go far from it.
And I knew I was not the only one, on board that ship, thinking that way.
But, maybe, just maybe....could be the Barzan wormhole right?

Captain Timoreev came back from the Endeavour two days after. To whom he met, he looked strangely relaxed for a man who had spent the last days researching and analizing data on a physical phenomenon without many hours of sleep.
"So, how comfortable it was?" Morisette asked to him when they were in the ready room. She was smiling: she knew of that weird attitude of her captain to analize the pro and cons of every Starfleet class of vessels, with an eye to crew comfort. The Concorde class was not yet on his list.
"Well....I shall be honest with you, Sarah: it's quiet comfortable." he was smiling as well, sitting in his chair: "But I missed the Ananke. Probably, it's impossible for me to leave this ship for longer than twenty-four hours without feeling nostalgic."
Morisette chuckled: "Very well, captain. The ship is yours."
"Any news during my absence?"
"Not at all. We received the usual reports from Starfleet and Fleet command. I already reviewed them, but you'll find them in your log nonetheless. I know how much you care to be kept informed. All data and preliminary analysis on the wormhole are included as well."
"Thank you, Sarah. Anything else?"
"Oh, yes. We received a call from Earth, yesterday. It was your father."
Timoreev suddenly raised his eyebrows: "My father?"
"Yes. I explained him the situation, and when I suggested to transmit the call to the Endeavour...he refused. He said that he'd called you when you had some spare time."
A smile briefly reappeared on Timoreev's face: "He always appreciated isolation while researching. Well, I'll call him personally, then. Thank you again, Sarah." He paused briefly, then added: "But, I'm afraid I cannot call him right now."
He stood up from the chair, heading for the door. Morisette didn't make a step, but limited her movements to turning to the captain, vivid curiosity in her eyes.
Timoreev scrolled his shoulders: "Chess match." he plainly answered to that silent question.
"I always forget of that idea of yours: a chess club." Morisette replied.
"Not mine. It was Iria, do you remember? But, at least, she had the good sense of leaving the presidency of the club to the captain."
"Oh yes...our champion." Morisette was smiling.
"I'm still your captain, Sarah. I could punish that sarcasm of yours with some good session of report-reading." the captain replied, falsely offended.
Then, he left.

The sarcasm of the first officer was, to say the truth, justified. The captain was not bad playing chess, to be honest. But he wasn't a champion for sure: he never left the amateurs category. The title of president of the Ananke Chess Club was nothing more than a name, and, although Vulcans are incapable of humor (or so they say), captain Timoreev took the offer from commander Iria as nothing more than a friendly joke. However, he was committed to it: every two days, in his spare time, the captain moved to the holodeck, joining us in the program created for the club. It was the reproduction of a small building, probably a cafè, on the shores of an ocean: one of the most relaxing places I ever visited in my life. There was the sound of the waves, few birds, a wonderful sun (usually at dawn or sunset): we could play on a stone terrace or, alternatively, in a lounge completely surrounded by glass panels. There was a small bar, sofas, soft music, and the possibility to walk on the beach. And, of course, there was chessboards. It was perfect.
I joined the club immediately after my arrival on board: I always loved chess, and me using a chessboard is one of the oldest memories I have of my life. I couldn't but take such a wonderful opportunity.
As a side effect, attendance to the club gave me more opportunities to come in touch with the captain.
"Sumida, wanna try again your luck?" It was his favorite way to invite me to play when he found me inside the cafè. Of course, chess has nothing to do with luck, and he knew that. But, hey, everybody needs some sort of justification for his defeats.
When he stepped into the holodeck that day, I was alone. I could've created an hologram to play with, but, instead, I decided to take that opportunity to simply enjoy that place, relaxing on the terrace. It was a warm sunset, and the sun, an orange ball standing just upon the horizon, was slow to end that day into the waves of the sea.
"You lost your Queen."
The match wasn't going well for Timoreev.
He didn't reply: "Knight in C-4."
"Tower in D-1."
"Knight in B-2."
"Tower in D-6."
Now he looked disappointed.
"I guess this is not my best match." he tried to smile briefly.
"Uhm...I guess you're right, sir."
He suddenly raised his eyes from the chessboard (while playing, he used to focus entirely on the pieces), looked toward the sea. He didn't say anything for a while, and silence immediately surrounded us. It was one of those typical situations when embarassment usually takes people; but I didn't feel embarassed that time. I looked to the sea as well, and old feelings and emotions raised inside myself. Memories came back from the past: my home, the road to the town, the walks in the afternoon, the evenings on the hills looking at the sky, and......
"Clearly there's something which is distracting me." Timoreev finally said (probably more to himself than to me).
"That wormhole is haunting the thoughts of many, here on board." I said smiling.
Timoreev seemed surprised by that statement: "Really?" he said "In truth, I wasn't referring to..." he scrolled his head: "Nothing, nothing...." He paused: "That wormhole is an enigma, for sure. A known phenomen, in theory; but still full of unknown secrets. And there was that craft, too..."
"The primitive rocket?"
"Yes, that one. I wonder: from where it came? Who was the one on board? A pioneer of his species? The first space explorer of his planet? Who knows."
"I hope he survived."
"I hope so as well."
Another moment of silence: "So, many on board are thinking about the wormholes? I guess you're referring to the Physics Department."
I chuckled: "Not only to them. Infact, I was thinking at me."
"You? I didn't expect a xenobiologist to be interested in wormholes." he chuckled as well.
"Personal interest, nothing more. I found the concept of the Barzan wormhole.....intriguing." Then, I was caught by a sudden feeling: "Do you believe in destiny, sir?"
He looked back at the sea: "In the destiny? You mean, if I believe that there's a fixed path for everyone of us? Well....." he looked almost disoriented by that question, dubious about the answer to give: "Why?"
"The wormhole....made me think: it's not so different from our life, isn't it? If we don't accept the concept of destiny, than our life has one fixed entrance, but infinite possibilities for the exit; and even if we accept the idea of destiny, we cannot know it, not entirely at least, so for us the effect is the same."
Strangely enough, captain Timoreev seemed really captured by that metaphor: "Do you believe in destiny, Sumida?" he asked to me.
"I think so. But that wormhole planted a seed in my mind..."
"I never thought about it this way." he was still looking at the sea, immersed in his thoughts: "What I'm waiting for? I guess it's time to do it."
He was clearly speaking to himself. He pressed his combadge: "Morisette, please establish a channel with Earth in my quarters. I'll be there in few minutes." then he looked at the chessboard: "Your tower in F-8. Chessmate. You won. Again." he smiled.

[Timoreev_]

COSMONAUTS
PART 3

"What the hell does it mean?" Captain Timoreev was clearly not in the best of moods. Those days were hard ones, on board the Ananke: failures to EPS regulators were haunting the ship...and the thoughts of its senior officers, of course. As was to be expected, Timoreev and Halora were personally overseeing the efforts to counter the problem and find a solution, but with no success. Morisette, standing in front of the Captain, scrolled her shoulders: "What can I say, Captain...that's what happened."
She was reporting the result of the last attempt to resolve the issue: another failure.
Timoreev sighed: "Very well. We'll find something else. Dismissed."
Morisette saluted him, then stepped for the door. She stopped just in front of it, turning back on Timoreev: "I forgot to ask...did you have the opportunity to call back your father?"
Timoreev looked at her for few seconds. His eyes were glacial, just as his tone when he repeated: "Dismissed." When the door closed behind herself, Morisette sighed: there was something wrong.
And that was exactly the same thought of Timoreev, now alone in his ready room: something was going wrong. Terribly wrong.
He stood up, rising from his chair. He moved toward the window, looking at the stars; at his right, he could look at a piece of Deep Space Thirteen. Everything was silent. With the EPS regulators overloading so easily, he ordered the engine to be shut down. Immersed in that unreal silence, he was easily taken up by his thoughts: what the hell was happening?
Yes, he had the opportunity to call back his father. He did it after the match with lieutenant Sumida in the chess club, on the holodeck. He went into his quarters and opened a channel. He wished to hear what his father had to say to him, and to finally ask him something about.....her.
Alexander Timoreev looked almost surprised to see him, and his words confirmed that impression: "Oh, Andrej...I didn't expect..."
"...to hear me so soon?" his son replied. He smiled. He was of an incredible good mood. He felt a true energy flowing inside himself.
"Well, yes. Morisette told me that you were busy."
Timoreev nodded: "Indeed. I was on board another starship for an operation. But now...now I'm free. So, how're you?"
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine, thanks."
There was something wrong. Timoreev looked at the screen: his father was avoiding looking directly at him. He was too vague in his statements. He knew what that behavior meant: "Tell me: what's wrong?"
Alexander didn't answer immediately. He finally stared at his son, then sighed: "Well....I'm not sure if you want to know...it's just...well....I was thinking that..."
Timoreev tried not to seem to authoritative when he said, firmly, but gently: "Just tell me, bàtia."
Vasilij sighed again: "Well, it's about Valeriya."
Timoreev suddenly froze. Then that was the reason of the call. He'd never have expected that. His father never forgot what she meant for him, what she still meant for him, although he never told anything to his son. Now, there was something so urgent that he called him there, on the Ananke. Timoreev tried to appear as calm and normal as always. Probably, he didn't succeed: "What happened to her?"
"She's going to marry. Next month, here in Moscow."

That news was like the stab of a knife for Timoreev. He spent the following weeks working harder on the EPS regulators, but with a spirit nobody had seen in him before. He never smiled, he never said anything more than necessary. He looked like a true man of ice, entirely dedicating his time to work. The chief medical officer was the first to notice it: "You should sleep more, Captain" he said during a visit in his quarters.
Timoreev looked clearly annoyed: "I'll sleep when the ship will be fully operational again.". He wasn't even looking at the Bolian, totally immersed in reading the latest reports from engineering.
"I'm saying that as medical officer, first." Escott repeated: "The ship may be or not operational, but surely a captain who doesn't sleep cannot command her."
At the end, Timoreev agreed, but only because he didn't want to upset his medical officer. He didn't feel tired; but he felt completely discouraged. Everybody on board began to notice that, and Morisette became particularly concerned. It was not until that meeting in the captain's ready room, however, that she understood how serious the problem was.
At least, however, she had the opportunity to understand what was happening and why. It was when she found the captain in the lounge bar: the night shift already began one hour before, and she decided to use her spare time reading something there. She didn't expect to see Timoreev there. The lounge was empty, and he was completely absorbed in his thoughts.
"Andrej" she calls him, quietly.
He looked at her: for a moment, the energy in his eyes looked....extinguished.
"Sarah...."
She came near his table: "Can I sit down?"
Timoreev nodded.
From there, they had the possibility to view DS13, and the stars around it: "Beautiful view, isn't it?" Morisette asked.
"Yes, it is." He wasn't even looking at her.
"Andrej...what's happening? I know you're worried about the EPS regulators issue..."
Timoreev stopped her with a gesture of his left hand: "No, it's not about that."
"What is it about, then?"
"Alexandra is going to marry."
Morisette didn't answer immediately. She had never met Vleriya Gurshieva, but she knew about her. Timoreev told her when they were still at the Academy. She understood too well what that phrase meant.
"Now I understand." she said, finally, after a minute: "You think to have lost her."
The captain didn't answer immediately. He looked for a moment outside the big windows, then scrolled his shoulders: "No, Sarah. I always believed to have lost her forever. It's not about that....it's about....well, it's difficult to explain..."
Morisette didn't say anything. He needed his time to recall his thought.
"It's....I thought to have done a choice, that day. A difficult, terrible choice. But it was a choice."
Finally, Morisette received her enlightenment: "But you now think that it was not your choice, don't you?"
Timoreev looked at her, finally, a small smile on his face: "As always, Sarah, you understand. Yes, exactly. It was my choice, that was my thought. But, now, I understand that I never chose. It was her who decided for both of us. I didn't left her: it was her, who left me, deciding not to follow this path."
"And, as a consequence..."
"...as a consequence, I now understand the truth. And it's a truth that hurts me more than I could've imagined."
"That she decided not to love you, Andrej?"
Timoreev shaked his head, and he was smiling while answering to his first officer. A smile full of sadness: "No, Sarah. The truth is that she never loved me."

One problem was resolved, at last. With the help of engineers coming from the U.S.S. Vanguard, the issue with EPS regulators was finally resolved.
The news seemed to give back Timoreev some strenght and energy, although not everybody on the ship felt satisfied. Halora, particularly, seemed disappointed that the problem was resolved only with the help of the engineers from another unit.
"Oh yes, for sure they're good." she was saying to Zorfe, the young trill who was deputy chief operation officer of the Ananke: "But I'd have found a solution by myself as well."
Zorfe nodded. He was nodding since the beginning of that conversation, one hour before.
I could not avoid looking at them during that time. I was sitting in an angle of the lounge bar, enjoying my spare time in front of an hot cup of black tea and a good, relaxing reading: Advancements in xenobiology research in the Risa Sector. It was a really good article; but that strange couple soon captured my attention. Halora complaint for the whole time, and Zorfe had no escape from that.
"I know Halora, but that was the captain's choice." he was saying (repeatedly).
"I know. But he's getting too hasty. Everything needs time, everything, I say. But he didn't want to wait. He's so willing to take the ship in deep space..."
"I couldn't blame him."
"Well...to say the truth....me neither."
At least they agreed on that.
I was excited by the recent news, as everybody on board: finally, after weeks spent docked at Deep Space Thirteen, we would've had the opportunity to go back in deep space. This time, for a true charting mission: our goal was to chart unexplored parts of the Doza Sector. Nobody knew what was waiting for us out there. And that was thrilling. I spent hours imagining the wonders that we would've discovered. Who knew, maybe I'd have had the opportunity to write a xenobiology article about some new discovery myself.
But I also noticed the change affecting captain Timoreev. At first, I thought he was so immersed in the issue related to the power problems of the ship. But one day I understood that there was something deeper that was troubling him. It was during another match at the chess club. He didn't come for days, completely absorbed by his work. Then, he suddenly came up. The club was almost deserted: I was sitting near a chessboard, alone, looking for some new strategy to implement. Together with me, there was Crondell, and two other colleagues from the tactical department.
Formality was never an issue inside the club, so the entrance of the captain didn't change much, at least not until he decided to join a match. The victim was Crondell. He was good at chess, at least for an amateur. Probably, I could say his ability was only slightly superior of that of the captain.
The match was incredibly fast.
"Pawn in H6."
"Queen in H7."
"King in F6."
Then Timoreev suddenly froze. He looked at the chessboard, intensely. The new shift was going to begin soon so Crondell had to quit, together with the other two members. But I had some spare time that day, so I took Crondell seat. Now, we were both alone on the holodeck.
At first, it looked like Timoreev didn't even notice that his adversary was another person. He kept looking at the chessboard, immersed in his thoughts.
"Sumida, remember what you said to me about the Barzan wormhole?" he suddenly asked, without moving his eyes from the chessboard.
"Yes, of course."
"You asked me if I believed in destiny..."
"Yes, I did."
He pauses for a moment. Only the waves, far on the beach, were breaking the absolute silent reigning in that place.
"I didn't find an answer, yet. But I know one thing for sure." he suddenly raised his head from the chessboard, and for a brief second, his green eyes were looking just at me. I felt like a sort of energy bolt was hitting myself: "We never really have a choice in our life." he then said.
He raised from the chair: "Knight in F7. Chessmate." He won. But he didn't smile.
Then, he walked out of the holodeck, leaving me alone, stunned by those words, and the incredible sadness that transpired from them.
Few hours later, that same day, the U.S.S. Ananke finally left Deep Space Thirteen, and began her journey in the darkness of deep space.

[Timoreev_]

COSMONAUTS
PART 4

Captain's log, stardate 92834.6,
Our exploration of uncharted areas of the Doza Sector has already started to deliver its fruits: we've analized three different solar systems, all without M-class planets, but with many interesting features. We've recovered data from sensors and even samples from two Demon-class planetoids, many asteroids with unusual geological composition, and three gas-giants. We also detected three space anomalies, which allowed us to gather more data on physical disturbances and their influence upon stars gravitational fields.
However, the most interesting feature emerged only four hours ago: while completing our last analysis, our long-range sensors detected an unusual gravitational reading coming from an area where no planetoids or similar objects have been found. Our Science Department has no idea about what could've generated such a field, and I've ordered the Ananke to reach the coordinates at warp 4.


The discovery of that new gravitational field generated a wave of enthusiasm inside the Science Department. Well, to say the truth, we were already enthusiasts about all the discoveries we had the opportunity to make during the previous days. Our deep space exploration assignment was as surprising as expected.
As soon as we collected the first sensor readings from the first star system, Commander Iria delved into work. For a Vulcan, she looked almost enthusiast as the others. Professionally speaking, of course.
Peter Crondell, as a physicist, had much more work to do than me.
"Stars are a source of neverending surprises." he commented when I met him in the lounge bar. It was a rare break during those frenetic days.
I was drinking one of my favorite teas (a black one, nice mix of orange and chocolate flavours): "Well, at least we can agree on that. New discoveries?" I smiled to him.
"Kinda of. New data from that last physical anomaly: Commander Iria believes it could be a sort of quantum filament of a kind never encountered before."
I took a sip from my cup, looking straight at him. I smiled again: "Well, you know that I'm not exactly an expert in the field."
Crondell chuckled: "Oh yes...could I ever forget the girl who didn't know what a Barzan wormhole is?"
Silence came for a brief moment. Crondell sighed: "I understand that you didn't have much work."
I scrolled my shoulders: "That's correct. Not much life in the systems we explored. I confess that the absence of M-class planets disappointed me."
"We've still plenty to explore, Sumida...I'm sure you'll have your occasion."
"Probably. But not now, for sure: I'm afraid that the new gravitational readings toward which we're going now will be of your competence, not mine."
That was a common mistake, even for myself: unconsciously underestimating the Universe.

Captain Timoreev was sitting in his chair, on the bridge, looking at the screen.
"ETA?"
"Twenty minutes, sir." Zorfe answered. The young Trill man was at the operation console, busy analizing the new data as they reached him.
Timoreev standed up. He was nervous. Coming near Iria, at his left, he gave a look to the science console: "What have the sensors for us, Iria?"
"I still cannot precisely interpret the data, captain. The gravitational field is strong, and that's already unusual, since we haven't detected bodies able to produce it. But, if we suppose the existence of some sort of anomaly, we still could not explain its...form."
While talking, the Vulcan called for the console to produce an image of the field. Timoreev looked at the picture: an ovoid, strongly mashed on both the upper and lower sides. In theory, there wouldn't have been nothing strange, if there wasn't for the size: four hundreds kilometers of lenght, and three hundreds in height.
"If it was spherical, I'd have thought of a nano blackhole of some sort, but with such a shape....It looks like an artificially-generated field, similar to the ones we use on board our starships."
"Indeed. But the field it produces is far greater in size; moreover, it's so strong that it creates a barrier for our sensors. We cannot see what is behind it, exactly as in the case of a "normal" blackhole. And, not less important a fact, it looks like it's...inverted."
"The aspect of a blackhole....but with its attraction exercised exclusively inside, instead of outside. And far smaller. It's a...bubble."
"Quiet a correct analogy, captain."
"How confusing..."
That was a mystery worth of investigation, Timoreev thought. Many theories and hypothesis were buzzing in his mind. Although his field of specialization was propulsion, his major at the Academy was still in Advanced Theoretical Physics. And gravity always exercised a strong impression on him.
"So we have two possibilities: either the gravitational field is generated artificially, or it's natural. In the first case, inside it there should be a starship, or some kind of installation; alternatively, there could be a celestial body or an anomaly of a kind not yet discovered." he summarized.
"Well, it's unlikely we could find anything inside this "bubble". The gravitational field inside it should be so powerful to destroy everything."
"Again, like a blackhole." Timoreev smiled briefly.
"ETA ten minutes, sir." Zorfe said, interrupting that flow of thoughts.
Timoreev turned on him: "Decrease speed to warp 2. Full stop at ETA five minutes."
"Aye sir."
The captain turned again on the science console: "The weirdest thing is that the field doesn't exercise its effects even at such a close distance." he said to Iria.
"That's not so much surprising, basing on what we know about it at the moment."
"Yes, but I still cannot believe it."
"Hypothetically, it's not impossible..."
"Yes, I know. But to see it in reality...it's a whole new thing."

As ordered, the Ananke stopped few minutes later.
The whole Science and Engineering Departments were put to work together. The goal: to understand as much as possible that new, strange, phenomenon which, among the crew, was already labelled "The Space Bubble".
In order to assess if it was possible to break the barrier of the "bubble" and see what was inside, Timoreev ordered a probe to be sent, equipped with all possible sensors necessary to determine the composition of the interior. Communications were of particular concerns. Halora expressed early her worries that it could've been impossible to receive any communication from the inside: "There's no need to observe that, as in the case of a blackhole, we could be faced with the possibility that the gravitational field, due to its strength, doesn't allow anything to escape from him. Communications included." she said during the meeting held in the conference room before the launching of the probe. Everybody in the room agreed with her.
It was Sesit, the Vulcan who was Ananke Chief Operations Officer, to propose an intriguing solution: "What if we place a small field generator inside the probe?"
"What could be its purpose?" Timoreev asked, curious to know where Sesit's thoughts were directed. Together with Zorfe, she was one of the latest senior officers to come on board the Ananke. She served with distinction on board many vessels...including the Rihlah, after Timoreev's departure. So, he decided to have her on board. She was quiet different from Iria: although both were Vulcans, sharing the same education, Sesit was more similar to the typical picture of her race than her Science colleague. But her dedication to work was on the same level.
"The idea is to program the probe in order to translate its data in waves. Then, the generator will interact with the gravitational field inside, and the modifications of the field will correspond to the data. Of course, they will be so small that it will be difficult to detect them, but if we reconfigure our sensor systems in order to focus on that, we could still be able to identify a major part of the fluctuations. Then, we'll translate the data, and we could figure out what's out there."
Everybody in the room was astonished. Except Iria, of course. She was unable to get astonished: "The idea is fascinating. However, its success depend on one, fundamental, assumption: that the characteristics of the gravitational field inside the anomaly are the same of the outside. I find this statement to be unlikely."
"Unlikely, but not impossible. And we have to base our actions on some assumptions, due our lack of knowledge of the phenomenon. It's only logical."
"Logic would require the..." Iria suddenly stopped. The captain had raised his hand.
"Well, that's a fascinating idea, indeed." he said. He had to interrupt that debate: discussions between commander Iria and lieutenant commander Sesit were famous among the crew. Once ignited, they could keep going ahead for hours. But there was no spare time for abstract debates.
"We have no choice but to proceed with Sesit plans." Timoreev continued: "Proceed with the necessary modifications on the probe, then we'll launch it."
It was done by the hour. Timoreev himself was surprised.
Standing up on the bridge, he looked at the screen. He turned on Morisette: "Well, Sarah. I suppose it's time to see inside our "bubble". Launch the probe."
He could now see the small probe running toward the anomaly. It was fast: for a moment, Timoreev felt a mix of tenderness and compassion for that small, mechanical, explorer which was to experience all the strength of that gravitational field and, probably, was going to be destroyed immediately after. All in the name of science.
Then, it disappeared inside the anomaly, behind that incredible barrier.
Silence fell on the bridge. For some minutes, Timoreev walked up and down, looking alternatively at the screen, the consoles, and his officers. The probe was programmed to send the first signals after three minutes. In three minutes, they would know what was the fate of their vanguard.
"Time is up." Morisette said all of a sudden: "Looks like it didn't make it, after all."
Timoreev made his best to hide his disappointment: "It wasn't unexpected."
Then, a "beep" resounded in the bridge.

[Timoreev_]

COSMONAUTS
PART 5

When I opened the eyes, I was surrounded by darkness, and silence. All around me, there was nothing. I felt oppressed by the void, and by the questions haunting my mind: what happened? Where was I? I was confused, totally, completely, confused.
I tried to recall back my last memories: we were on a Runabout, heading for that weird sphere at the center of the gravitational anomaly, the "Space Bubble" as we labelled it, we were exploring. The Ibn Battuta was my favorite Runabout, in the small fleet of shuttles belonging to the Ananke: I loved the fact that it was dedicated to such a man, a bold and curious Arab explorer of Earth's past. On board, I was with captain Timoreev, Commander Iria, a security detachment of three led by lieutenant Kolez, and lieutenant Zorfe.
A complete away team, ready to uncover the mysteries surrounding that strange phenomenon. We still didn't know much about it: we were already surprised when the probe we first launched inside the anomaly sent back its signal. When we started collecting and interpreting the data it was sending to us, we were astonished: how could be possible the existence of such a strange space? To what were we looking to, exactly? Captain Timoreev was determined to know more about it.
After we took as many data as possible from the probe, he decided to launch a second one, this time with the specific purpose of analizing the sphere at the center of the "bubble".
"The key to understand this phenomenon is there" he said during a meeting in the Ananke conference room.
"I agree." Iria said.
"At least it would be prudent to know more about it before proceeding in any way." Morisette stated. Although she never explicitly said so, it was clear to everybody that she had a bad feeling about that whole situation. Accordingly to her disposition, she felt uncomfortable about doing anything without knowing more, and she said that repeatedly to the captain and the other senior officers.
Timoreev nodded: "It would be stupid to take unnecessary risks. Halora, prepare the probe."
The new mechanical explorer was launched from the Ananke about three hours later. It took some time (more than the last time) to receive back its signal. The new data were even more amazing...and puzzling: they revealed that the sphere was a structure of some sort. Even the probe sensors were experiencing problems bypassing the surface of the sphere, which was composed by an unknown metal alloy. What we could find about the interior told us that it was actually hollow, with some sort of platforms of unknown functions. In few words, we only had more mysteries to solve.
One of them was particularly upsetting: inside the sphere there was life. Yes, life. We had no way to determine which kind of lifeforms, and to what level of evolution, there were. But, definitely, the probe identified organic compounds following a unique path inside the sphere.
That was when I came into the game.
"So, what's your opinion about that?" the captain asked me. We were relaxing (one of the very few breaks during those days) on the holodeck. Our lovely chess club.
I scrolled my shoulders: "I really don't know. It's weird."
That time the sea looked to me unusually calm (I know, it was an holo projection: it was always the same, almost. But the impression striked at me).
"You're not very useful, Sumida. Everything is weird about this....thing." the captain said while smiling to me.
"There are many possibilities. Probably, the list is virtually infinite." I replied, with a clearly-false tone of a person who felt offeded in his professionalism: "We should take a close look to know more."
Timoreev nodded his head: "I know. And, if the situation doesn't change, that's what will do."
He looked firm; his eyes were transmitting a sense of emotion, curiosity, willpower. I felt well at seeing that he was retrieving his energy. I smiled, staring at him.
He looked at me, surprised: "While are you smiling?"
"Nothing, Captain. It's nothing."

The day after, we were on board the Ibn Battuta, heading for the anomaly...and the sphere.
The runabout was fullt modified in order to overcome without problems the gravitational distortions and its sensors were overhauled in order to give us a better change to find more about the sphere.
"I still believe that it could be some sort of Dyson sphere, probably equipped with systems similar to those ones that created the Delphic Expanse three centuries ago." Halora was saying.
"We already discussed your hypothesis, and we found it difficult to accomodate with the data in our possession." was Iria's response.
Timoreev was silent. He was personally piloting the runabout, with Iria serving as his co-pilot. He was looking straight in front of him. He wished to see it with his naked eyes.
We approached the "bubble", and now it was possible for us to see clearly the effects of the gravitational anomaly on the background.
"Everything's clear, captain." Iria said after a quick glance at the sensor data.
"Well then. Let's go inside."

The sphere, finally.
It was there, in front of our eyes, with its dark blue-and-gray surface, stuck in the middle of the void. We couldn't see anything else: the light of the stars could not penetrate inside the "bubble", and the Ananke was invisible as well.
"My prelimnary scans confirm what the probe told us." Iria said: "The sphere is hollow. I can detect the same platforms the probe identified....and also the same organic compounds and signs of life."
"Coming from the platforms?"
Iria didn't answer. She was operating on her console. I gave a look to my station, trying to figure out something about those readings.
"Negative, captain. The life signs come from......everywhere."
"Everywhere?"
I checked on the console: "That's true captain. I'm reading the same thing."
"So, the sphere is a starship of some sort? A station maybe? It's inhabited!" Halora exclaimed.
But I had to stop her enthusiasm: "Not exactly, commander. What I'm reading is far more weird."
I looked at the console, focusing. It was displaying the pattern of the platforms inside the sphere. They formed a very complicated structure. Terribly complicated.
"Intensify the scans." Timoreev ordered.
Iria obeyed.
And that was my last memory.

A terribly complicated pattern.
Terribly.
Complicated.
Confusing.
Pattern.
My mind was possessed by those words while I felt my body fluctuating in the void, in the most absolute darkness.
Complicated.
Pattern.
Then, I saw a light. And I heard a voice. A voice calling me!
"Kanae! Kanae!"
The familiar sound of the sea waves.
"Kanae!"
The familiar light of the sun.
The darkness was no more. I was not in the void.....I was home.

"Andrej!"
Timoreev looked behind him, toward the voice calling him: "Papa?" he said, almost automatically, looking at the familiar face of his father. What was happening? What was that place?
He looked around him: he was in a library. He was sitting near a desk, not far from the electronic archives. A console was open in front of him, showing the titles he had just searched for. Searched for? He was confused: where were the others? What happened to the runabout?
"Andrej, we need to go now." his father said.
He looked at him again: he was younger.
Timoreev knew that library. It was in Moscow, at the university where his father worked.

"Kanae, stop reading that stupid book!"
I looked around me, surprised, and amazed at the same time. I immediately recognized the voice of my sister. She was running toward me from the beach. I was sitting on the sand, the soft sand of my island, a soft wind coming through my hairs. I instinctively looked at my knees: there was a padd, open on a page of a book I already read. I remembered it: it was a manual of exobiology. A preparatory reading for the Academy.
My sister reached me: "Come on, Kanae. You're wasting your last holiday, remember?"
She was smiling at me. Her usual, mocking, smille, that she did when she wanted to remind me how boring I was.
I didn't mind at her. I was reading the open page in front of me. It was from the introduction of the manual. I read: "Life is something unique, spectacular, and puzzling. It can be found in many, incredible, ways, different from one other. Although simple to conceptualize, it often manifests itself through very complicated patterns...."
Very complicated patterns.....
I didn't notice my sister was still looking at me, completely motionless.
I looked at her: she was still smiling.
I suddenly understood how all that was surreal. Me, sitting on the beach, looking at the sea of my island, my home, with my sister....all before the Academy. What was that place?
"Who're you?" I asked.
My sister looked at me, surprised: "Who am I? Have you decided to do some stupid joke with me, Kanae?"
"Tell me: where're the others?"
"The others who?"
I was feeling incredibly stupid. All that place looked so real.....but I knew it wasn't. Something was happening...
Was my sister a projection? Or a lifeform simply using her shape?
"Don't play with me. I know this place isn't real."
She now looked at me clearly worried: "There's something wrong?"
I lost my patience: "Everything's wrong! That's not the place where I'm supposed to be! Where's the runabout? Where are my friends?" I cried.
My sister (or whatever she was) looked at me, horrified, almost crying herself: "That's not funny, Kanae....not at all..." Then, she ran far from me.
"What the hell..." I said to myself.
I looked around me once again. There wasn't anybody. But that place was real....it felt so real....
I needed to find what was happening. And fast.

The same thoughts were haunting Timoreev. He was wearing his Starfleet uniform, but clearly nobody was noticing it. What a bad luck that he hadn't the tricorder with him. All the tricorders were on the runabout. The runabout....the others....
"I must find them." he said to himself. He understood very soon that the people around him had something strange.
"They're some sort of projections...made from my past." he thought. So that was a sort of holodeck? Or something else? Maybe the others were experiencing the same thing....and thinking the same thoughts.
He tried to behave normally (at least, in the eyes of those persons, or projections, or whatever, which were surrounding him), while figuring out what to do.
He felt strange. That whole situation was surreal, but it wasn't only that. He felt like an undecipherable feeling coming to himself.
He had to do something. He had to act. He had to understand the facts, to find his friends and fellow crewmembers, and to get out of that situation. He had to find a way to communicate with the others....
To communicate....
Communicate....

Without anything else to do, I decided to walk around. Maybe, I'd have found something useful, a clue, although small, about the truth of that situation.
I was lucky. Because, after few steps, leaving the beach behind myself, I saw something. Something completely weird and unexpected. Just in front of me, where I was expecting to see the terminal which connected that beach with the town where I used to leave, there was a large building. It was a skyscraper, but it looked ancient. And, even more weird, the sky was darker around it.
I walked toward the new surprise. Slowly, I began feeling colder all around myself. The sun of my island slowly vanished, and after few steps I was surrounded by a dark, grey sky, and the street lights of a city. It was snowing.
All around me, there was silence, and the only movement was that of the snowflakes falling on the ground. Then, I saw two figures, near the building.
They were standing in front of each other, but I heard no voices.
I went toward them, trying to ignore the snow falling on my hairs, my face, my hands, my uniform.
Little by little, step by step, I came near the two figures.
"Captain!" I cried. And my voice echoed in that dark, cold, night.
Because I clearly recognized Timoreev standing there, in front of a young girl.

He didn't know how he came there. One moment he was walking in the library, and the moment after, while immersed in his thoughts, he was there, standing in front of her, in the same dark, cold, night he always dreamed of during all those years.
He was back in Moscow, back in that very precise time, doing the thing he most regretted in his whole life.
She was standing there, motionless. She was beautiful as he remembered, with her long blonde hairs covered by that heavy hat, and her blue eyes standing out from the face. Those eyes were looking at him.
He had to say something, he knew that. There, in that moment, he forgot about the runabout, the starship, the crew....he only remembered that terrible feeling he felt when his father told him that she was going to marry another man. Was that the truth? Did she forget about him? Or maybe that wasn't the reality, and he was facing reality right now, that moment?
What was that strange, undecipherable feeling? Why I suddenly felt so oppressed?
Silence, darkness, and the snow were all around him. It was very, very cold.
Was it possible to re-write it all? To choose her instead of the stars? Did he ever really choose?
His mind was entirely absorbed by those questions. He felt suddenly tired, weak.
He didn't even noticed the young girl crying from outside his personal bubble, running in the snow.

He was there. But he didn't notice me. Or, if he did, he didn't do anything to show it.
I stopped in the middle of my run. I had to think. There should've been something to do. Maybe that one was not the "real" Timoreev. No, it was him. I was sure about that. He was wearing his Starfleet uniform. Probably, some way, I was living one of the scenes from his memory. It was clear that everybody was living a different experience, connected to his/her own memories. But there were still many questions to answer.
I cried again: "Captain!"
He didn't answer. He didn't even move a muscle. I scrolled my shoulders, to let falling to the ground the snow which was on them. Then, I started running again toward him: I had to discover what was happening.

Timoreev suddenly moved. But not toward his fellow crewmember: instead, he walked toward the girl in front of him. Few steps onward, and he finally spoke: "Valeriya..."
But she didn't answer. She kept her position, looking straight in his eyes.
"I....I have to tell you something...." he continued. He had to speak. He had to tell her the unspoken truth.
Then, a light abruptly flooded the scene, coming from the sky. Timoreev raised his eyes: in the dark, grey sky of Moscow he saw the shape of an Excelsior class ship.

I looked at the sky after the light: the Ananke was drifting in the sky. It was difficult to see, but I recognized our ship beyond any doubt. And it looked damaged. Something had happened, and a cold thrill came on my back.
I turned back on Timoreev. He was looking at the sky as well.
"Captain Timoreev!" I called again.
This time, I met with a response. He suddenly looked at me, surprised: "Su...Sumida?"
I moved toward him: "There's something happening, captain....probably the Ananke has been involved..."
"The Ananke.....the Ananke...." he repeated with low voice: "The Ananke is not here."
He looked weird. There was something strange in his eyes.
I indicated the sky with one of my frozen hands: "She's up there, sir. Maybe she entered the bubble as well."
"The bubble? Impossible" He looked around him: "See all of this, Sumida? This is my opportunity."
"Your...opportunity?" I was astonished by those words. Clearly, there was something wrong with him.
He smiled at me: "Yes. My opportunity: I can finally make everything right. Now."
I wished to reply. To say something. But I didn't. I understood that it was useless.
He turned back on the young girl, and took her hand. They said something to each other, something that I didn't manage to hear. Then, they walked out of my sight.
I was frozen (literally): unable to move one single muscle, I was terrified by what I'd seen.
Something terribly wrong was happening.
And I had failed.
Then, I scrolled my head: "No, Kanae. You can't surrender like that." I said to myself, trying to regain myself. I recalled back my Starfleet training: there's always something that can be done. I had only to find the key, and then, everything would be simpler.
I gave a look around me. The snow was still falling, but now I was alone. I never visited that place, I even didn't know what place was it. Clearly, it was a reproduction from Timoreev's mind. First step.
Second: the young girl Timoreev was talking with. I never saw her. But the only reasonable hypothesis was that she was a projection, similar to my sister on the beach. Probably, she also was born from Timoreev's mind.
A very complicated pattern.....
A pattern....
Those words began to haunt me again.
"Of course!" I cried: "How could I've been so blind?"
Yes, there was a pattern. A neural patten. They were trapped inside a telepathic projection of some sort.
But for what purpose? I didn't know. What I knew at the moment was that clearly Timoreev was beginning to be adversely affected by it. I managed to retain my judgement in all of this. Why he didn't? I needed to find an explanation. Probably, we were all in danger: me, the captain, the whole crew. If the Ananke was really trapped inside the bubble as well, there was no time to waste.
Also, I couldn't leave him, abandoning him inside his fantasies and his memories. He clearly was hoping to restore something that he didn't do in his past. He was trying to find happiness inside that weird, surreal, projection. I had to save him. Suddenly, I felt my heart beating stronger: I'd never leave Andrej in that place, alone with his regret. Never.
I started walking in the same direction of Timoreev and the young girl. I looked in front of him, desperately searching for any possible sign of their presence. I didn't know exactly where to go. I only had my heart to lead me.
Slowly, I left the skyscraper at my back, and I began to notice some changes to the street: trees were nearer than before, and also the street was becoming more "irregular". I instinctively looked at my back: the skyscraper has vanished. I was no more in a city street. I was in a countryside. The snow began to fall at a lower rate, but a cold wind suddenly raised. I instinctively tightened my arms around my body. It was so terribly cold. But I had to go forward, to find Andrej.
I finally saw a light, not so distant from me. It was an house. I walked toward it with all my remaining energies.
The house was small. The light came from the inside, probably a dining room. I approached the windows, and I saw Andrej sitting on a chair, drinking something, a smile on his face. There was no trace of the young girl. I went to the door. The wind was becoming stronger. At first, I wished to knock. But there wasn't time. I pushed the door and, surprisingly, it opened. Finally some warm!
Slowly, trying not to do much noise, I entered the room I saw before. It was a very nice house, with the walls covered by many strange, exotic, objects.
Andrej noticed me: "Sumida?" he was clearly surprised of seeing me.
"Cap...Captain.." I said.
He smiled: "You shouldn't be here. You should be on the Ananke."
I finally reached him. Now that I was warming, I was retrieving my energies: "Yes, indeed. We should be there, together."
"Together? What are you saying? I'm not a member of Starfleet."
"Yes, you're. You're my captain. The captain of the Ananke."
He looked at me. He looked almost horrified: "That's impossible. I live here. I never joined Starfleet."
I looked at him: now I was starting to understand what that whole projection was about.
"Captain.......Andrej, listen to me. You are a Starfleet officer. You are the captain of the U.S.S. Ananke, and we are all trapped inside some sort of telepathic projection." I was trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. But I was terrified. I didn't know if I was doing the right thing.
"Telepathic what?" He raised up from the chair: "That's my house. And I'm living here since years, together with Alexandra."
I lost my temper: "That's not your house! That's not your life! Look at yourself, why are you wearing a Starfleet uniform?"
He suddenly stopped, looking to the uniform he was still wearing. He scrolled his head: "No...that's not possible...I made a choice..."
Suddenly, all began to tremble violently. Something was happening out there. Outside our projection, maybe.
"I need your help..." I tentatively said.
The tremors ceased.
He was still scrolling his head: "No, no, no. I made a choice. I'm not in Starfleet. I live here, together with Valeriya..."
Like an ancient fairytale, summoned by the magic pronunciation of her name, Valeriya appeared.
"Look? She's here." he said to me.
I sighed. He was so lost....so lost. A tear crossed my cheek. I looked at him: Andrej was there, really believing in what he was saying, in what he was seeing around him. Was it so painful?
"Now go, Sumida. That's not your place." he said to me: "Go."
But I didn't go. Taken by a sudden motion of my heart, without even thinking about what I was doing, I raised my hand, and I violently slapped his face.

Silence fell over the room.
I was breathing nervously. But I wasn't regretting my gesture. Maybe, just maybe, it was the right thing to do.
Andrej was clearly upset. He touched his cheek.
"What...."
"I'll never leave you here...Andrej. Never."
He looked at me, his eyes straight to my eyes.
"Why, Kanae?" That was the first time he was calling me by my name. His tone was now different. And in his eyes, I saw clearly that he was regaining consciousness of what was really happening. "Why..."
He didn't end his phrase.
Because, without warning, I felt the darkness growing all around us. Something was dividing ourselves. I raised my hand toward him: "Andrej!"
Then, it was all dark.

When I opened my eyes, a young lieutenant was looking at me: "Are you allright? How do you feel?"
I tried to rise up, but I felt all my muscles refusing to respond.
"Don't try to move, lieutenant. Your muscles are still recovering from weeks of inactivity..."
"We....weeks?" I asked.
He nodded at me: "Yes, approximately two weeks."
"Where am I?"
"On board the U.S.S. Medici, in sickbay."
"What happened?"
The lieutenant scrolled his shoulders: "We still are trying to determine exactly. We found you and the rest of the runabout crew drifting around the sphere, inside the bubble, and we beamed you here. You all lost consciousness and were probably linked to some sort of powerful telepathic relay."
I sighed. For a moment, all the images of that experience were in front of my eyes: my island, the beach, my sister; the skycraper, the falling snowflakes, Timoreev and the young girl; the walk on that dark, cold, road, the house, my tears, the slap to Timoreev's face....was it real? Or was it simply some kind of dream?
I heard a voice coming from near me: "The..the Ananke?"
It was Timoreev. He was speaking to someone else.
"It's been heavily damaged. A gravimetric distortion pulled it into the bubble without the shield raised, and the consequences were not pleasant, clearly. But most of the crew is safe, and repairs to the shield systems are going fast. She'll manage to get out of the bubble together with us."
"Thank you, captain."
I looked at him. He was clearly not in the best physical conditions. But he was there. And I smiled.

[Timoreev_]

EVEN THE GODS...

"It's a diplomatic assignment inside the Liyan Cluster."
"Yes, I've heard about it. I was simply wondering if...maybe....once arrived there....could we..."
"I assume you are thinking about the possibility that the captain could despatch a team to the surface of one of the planets inside the Cluster, opening a window of opportunity for a brief field research. Am I correct, lieutenant?"
Kanae Sumida looked at her superior officer and sighed, nodding her head: "Correct, sir."
For a brief moment, Commander Iria moved her eyes toward an undefined point in front of her, before resuming: "Maybe your thought is correct. However, that could not possible without the previous approval of local authorities. So, I strongly advice you not to think to seriously about that, otherwise I'm afraid you could be....disappointed."
Sumida smiled at the Vulcan. She moved toward the console few meters from her and resumed her analysis. After all, the Exobiology Laboratory was still a working place.
"I'll try, sir." she said, then.
With time, she had come to better understand the Chief Science Officer of the Ananke. Despite the Commander being a Vulcan, and Sumida probably one of the "most typical" humans on board (yes, those were the words Iria once used to define her, due to her emotional behavior), the two soon developed a good relationship. That was unavoidable, probably: after all, Sumida was the Second Science Officer, and head of the Exobiology Department. But, unavoidable or not, it was something that pleased Sumida very much. And, although of course she'd never admit it, she thought that Iria was pleased as well.
"I believe these analysis will be completed for this afternoon." Sumida said, looking at the console.
"I will wait for your report, then. Good morning, lieutenant." Iria said, before stepping toward the door.
"Good morning, sir."
The door opened.
But it didn't close.
Sumida raised her eyes from the genomic sequences which were showing up on the screen of the console, then looked behind her. Commander Iria was still there, exactly in the middle of the door.
"Something's wrong, sir?" she asked.
Iria turned back on her.
"Lieutenant, I have never had the occasion to thank you."
"T...thank me, sir? For what?"
"You saved the life of captain Timoreev. And, probably, the lives of all those on board this ship."
"I....I only did my duty, sir." Sumida was clearly embarassed.
"You did, of course." Iria answered "But, nonetheless, you have my gratitude."
Sumida nodded, still taken by the embarassment.
Finally, the commander moved on.
"Commander!"
Iria stopped, looking back at Sumida: "Yes, lieutenant?"
"Do you believe the captain will....ever overcome...that experience?"
The Vulcan didn't answer immediately. She stared for a moment at a bulkhead.
"The captain is a strong man, otherwise it would be impossible for him to be a Starfleet officer, and to stay in command of this vessel." she paused "However, I understand your concerns. As his friend, and a person who knows him since the Academy, I can say that he tends to resolve his own conflicts inside himself, in pure loneliness. And I assume he is doing exactly this."
"In....loneliness?"
"That is not unusual for humans."
"I suspected the captain was an introvert but....not this much.."
"It happens, sometimes. In my experience, that is often the case for that kind of people you humans used to call....dreamers. I believe you know what I am talking about."
Sumida suddenly raised her head, looking straight in the eyes of the Vulcan: "Why did you say so?"
"Because, lieutenant, you are that kind of person too. And I believe this to be the highest wall between you and captain Timoreev: loneliness is your domain." she paused: "Again, good morning."
Then, the commander turned her shoulders and walked away. The doors finally closed.
Sumida was stunned. Standing in the middle of the room, without moving a single muscle.
She looked at the floor, whispering to herself: "Loneliness is our domain...."
She turned on the console, her fingers quickly moving on the display. However, her mind was elsewhere: she was remembering about Tanegashima, her home, the beaches...and then about what she saw when she rescued Timoreev; the falling snow, the country road, the small house....that young girl. She had literally walked inside the inner loneliness of Timoreev.
But the wall was still there. It will always be there, Sumida thought.


The Ananke bridge was more quiet than usual.
Commander Morisette was sitting on her chair, looking at some reports: "Looks like everything is perfectly in order, captain." she said, without hiding a brief smile.
Timoreev, sitting next to her, smiled as well: "At least we will not have to worry about the ship status, while trying not to destabilize the whole region."
"You don't seem optimist about this assignment."
Timoreev chuckles: "Are you joking, Morisette? Like me, you saw what is waiting for us." he sighed "It'll not be easy...but this doesn't mean I'm not optimist. We've still our cards to play, and the game is yet to begin."
"So we have just to hope that your diplomatic skills are better than those at chess..."
Timoreev looked straight at her: "Who told you? Iria? Lieutenant Sumida?"
Morisette scrolled her shoulders: "These are the risks of joining a chess club when being the commanding officer..." she said smiling.
"Don't worry, Sarah. My diplomatic skills are good as at the Academy." Timoreev raised from his chair: "Helm, how much for reaching the Cluster?"
"At current speed, four hours and twenty-two minutes, sir." the ensign answered.
"Then I guess I'll go to my ready room. The bridge is yours, Sarah."
"Aye, sir."
Timoreev stepped toward the entrance of the ready room. Suddenly, Morisette words let him remember about the chess club. It was a while since he last had the chance to play a game with Sumida....or simply to meet her.
He sighed, scrolling his head.
He was passing near dedication plaque of the ship, and his eyes were immediately caught by the motto imprinted on it: "Even the Gods don't fight against Ananke."
It was a verse from an ancient Greek poet of Earth, Simonides of Ceos. It was submitted as the motto of the ship by Tlaive Escott, the Chief Medical Officer. Timoreev still remembered when the Bolian entered in his ready room, the Ananke still drydocked at Utopia Planitia, with proposal.
"So, if I understood correctly, these were the last words you heard of captain Tredmore?" Timoreev asked to him.
The Bolian nodded: "Yes, sir."
"Well, probably this is the least we can do to honor her memory. She was a fine officer, and a fine captain."
"Thank you, sir." the Bolian attempted a smile. For him, it was important. Very important.
While he was walking out of the room, Timoreev stopped him: "Lieutenant, do you know what does it mean?"
"Yes, sir: Ananke was an ancient human deity for the Fate, the personification if Inevitability and Necessity."
That was exactly where Timoreev's thoughts were going at that moment, looking at that plaque: "Even the Gods don't fight...against Inevitability."
That was the meaning of that ancient verse. Something of it was bringing his thoughts toward Sumida.....and Valeriya. He suddenly found himself thinking about all the events which brought him there, on that bridge. He was thinking about what he had lost for that.....for his dream.
Suddenly, a feeling of extreme loneliness caught the captain. He walked inside his ready room, moving outside of the visual range of that phrase.
Maybe, that Simonides was not so wrong about Ananke.

[Timoreev_]

MEMORIES OF DAYS GONE BY

It was a very strange feeling.
Never during his life, Timoreev had felt that way. Yes, of course that wasn't the first time he had the occasion of touching by hand things belonging to a long-dead civilization. He still vividly remembered the expedition in the Hiillan system; and then there was the discovery of those burial ground on PY-778, of course. And still, however, what he was feeling right now was almost new to him: he was touching pages, and reading writing, which kept the essence of a dead civilization. Yes, of course, everything ever produced by a culture contains, in some way, its essence. These were the words that his anthropology professor at the Academy loved so much to repeat to cadets at the beginning of almost every lesson.
But those were writings! Timoreev had spent hours at deciphering, translating, and finally reading them. Soon he and Iria, who assisted him during the process, had discovered that, although apparently similar to old-fashioned human (or Vulcan) books, those were, in reality, quiet different: their pages (and, thus, the writing on them) was structured very differently, and it was difficult at first even to understand if there was effectively written something on them or not. However, this obstacle was overcome. Then came the problem of language: of course, they already had made some progress during the mission itself, and the Endeavour crew had kept the path, with some good results. But still, it was an alien, unknown, language. Luckily, their knowledge was sufficient to understand most of the content, and the new readings further helped them discovering more and more things about that language.
That whole process had a strange effect on Timoreev: he felt again the enthusiasm of discovery on a whole new scale. For days, while the crew of the Ananke enjoyed its shore leave on Deep Space Thirteen, he worked on those documents, and finally felt like the shadows of the last year were disappearing. It was a wonderful sensation.
He was immersing himself into the history and mind of a long-gone civilization, trying to understand its mysteries. More and more, he tried to think as they presumably thought, to imagine how the city he explored during his brief mission was in the past, how life was sprawling on the now-dead world. Thinking about it, he always felt sudden melancholy, and sometimes sadness. He used to lay on the sofa near the windows, in his quarters, looking at the stars, meditating about those thoughts. He always looked at the stars, but now it was different. Their passing in front of the window was different.
Those documents reminded him of a fundamental lesson: time passes too, exactly like those stars.
Where was it going? Where was it bringing him? Where could he find his answers?
Interestingly, during his survey of those writings he had found what looked like a collection of poetry. In particular, what attracted his attention were few chains of poems with a very peculiar structure: they weren't made by verses; instead, there was a fixed number of words, each on a different line. Evidently, the reader had to combine those words on his own, giving those lines the meaning most pregnant for him. On a page, Timoreev, had found the following poem:
"Dream
Time
Beauty
Illusion."
He was captured by those words. Exactly like an ancient reader of that book, he began to wonder what those lines meant for him.
The thrill at the door suddenly took him from his thoughts.
"Come in."
The doors opened, and he saw Morisette stepping in briskly as usual, reaching the sofa in a second.
"Once again in the dark, lonely looking at the stars?" she smiled. Probably she was thinking that the rime she just tried to do wasn't that good.
Timoreev moved to sit: "Computer, increase lightining to standard levels.", he said while looking straight to his first officer, the room quickly returning to its normal light: "Sarah, I wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought you went on DS13 for a last visit before our departure. Please, take a seat."
She moved to the nearest chair: "I'll tell you the truth: I don't find the starbase very interesting these days....or maybe, it's all fault of the reports, personnel rosters, and all the other bureaucratic stuff my captain left me to do while immersing himself into...uh....old books?" she smiled again.
Timoreev shook his head: "Sarah, Sarah...always on the brink of disobedience. Sometimes, I'm sincerely surprised that you made to the rank of commander. And to the post of first officer...on my ship."
The girl still kept her usual smile: "It's all your fault, Andrej. But if you wish so, I could always find some other post in the fleet...I heard something about the Lysithea lacking a first officer. I should take a look."
Timoreev chuckled: "And then...to whom I'd assign all those reports? Think about me!"
"I think that we're not even an Odyssey, and still....how much work would we have with two thousands people on board?" she looked sincerely scaried by the idea. Her eyes then catched a padd on the table near the chair. It was still open.
"Poetry?" she asked, clearly surprised: "Beauty is an illusion, it is the dream of time" she read: "What the hell is this?"
Timoreev raised from the sofa remarkably fast, immediately taking the padd into his hands: "It's nothing....just an experiment of mine. I'm trying to understand some of the material we collected on POI K-1599."
"I see..." Morisette wasn't convinced by the words of her captain: "By the way, I came here to inform that we finished all checks, and that we're ready to depart. The Endeavour has signalled they'll be ready in few minutes."
"Very well, then. Set a course for our destination, and coordinate with the Endeavour. I'll come to the bridge in a moment."
"Aye, sir."
Morisette raised from the chair and walked to the door: "And by the way, that line was terrible. Poetry is not your thing, Andrej."
"Dismissed." Timoreev replied.
As soon as the doors closed, Timoreev looked at his padd.
He was reading that line again and again: "Beauty is an illusion...". It was his attempt at giving a meaning to that alien poem.
He couldn't say if Morisette was right or wrong about it. Was it so terrible? He read it again. And again.
It wasn't terrible. It was terribly sad.
He looked again at the window, at the stars outside.
And for a very brief moment, less than a second, his thoughts went to Sumida.
He sighed. A brief check at his uniform, and he was leaving his quarters, the padd launched on the sofa.

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 1

"Computer: activate program Sumida Two."
The girl waited for the familiar sound from the compiter acknowledging her request, then she moved toward the door, which immediately opened.
The light of the sun hit her eyes, and for a moment she was forced to use a hand to see while she was stepping inside the holodeck. Then, the door closed behind, disappearing, and Sumida found herself completely surrounded by that familiar world. Tanegashima, her island, was just lying in front of her: the green, grassy, hills, with few trees moved by the wind, and, a little far, the city. She was looking at it from one of the hills nearest to the ocean. She took a deep breath of the air: she knew that that wasn't the real Tanegashima, and that she was breathing the air coming from the conduits of the Ananke; but still, she loved to imagine something very different.
She finally moved up, stepping toward the beach, and the ocean, slowly, her eyes firmly put on the incredible waves running toward the coast. She saw a tiny figure on the beach, apparently looking at the ocean as well.
Finally, after few minutes of walking, she reached the figure: her sister was still looking at the waves, her surf table high at her left.
She turned on Sumida when she heard her walking on the tiny sand.
"Kanae!" she called, briefly smiling: "Ready for a ride?"
Sumida looked at her, not answering immediately. She smiled as well, then made a nod with her head: "I'm always ready for a ride, Mikako."
She touched her sister's table with her fingers.
Then, everything disappeared, and Sumida suddenly found herself surrounded by the yellow-and-black squares of the now-deactivated holodeck. She heard a too-familiar siren ringing.
"Red alert. All hands: red alert."

Captain Timoreev just stepped into the bridge. He was finishing a reading of the most recent publications from the ASDB when Morisette asked him to join her on the bridge.
"What's going on, Sarah?" he asked to his first officer while taking his place on the captain's chair.
"We've detected a distress signal, few light years from our position."
"Origin?"
"It's an uncharted system, sir."
"What about the call? Does it provide any information?"
"Looks like it comes from a freighter...it says they're under attack."
"By whom?"
Morisette scrolled her shoulders: "The call doesn't say it."
Timoreev nodded: "Otliechno, then. Red alert. All hands to stations. Helm, set a course for the signal, maximum warp."
"Aye."
"Engage."


When the Ananke arrived at the coordinates provided by the distress call, there wasn't much left of the freighter.
However, its debris left no doubt about its fate.
"Destroyed..." Morisette commented laconically.
"By whom? Or what?" Timoreev turned on Iria, who was sitting at the science station. The Vulcan was looking at data coming from the sensors on her console.
"I cannot say, captain: I've detected weapon signatures, but they don't comform to anything in our databse."
"Anything?"
"They show some similiarities with Klingon disruptors. The principle is basically the same, but the energy distribution pattern is quiet different. It wasn't attacked by Klingons."
"Scan the area. If there's something moving out there, I wanna know."
"Aye sir."
"Any survivors? Escape pods?"
"None."
Timoreev sighed. Apparently, they had no tracks at all.
"Is it possible to identify the freighter, at least?" Morisette asked.
Lt. Cmdr. Sesit, the other Vulcan on the bridge, answered from her operation console: "I already tried. Its configuration and material analysis doesn't match our database either. Most interestingly...."
"What?"
"It's hard to tell solely from debris, but it appears it wasn't capable of warp speed."
"Sublight only?"
"It seems so."
Timoreev and Morisette looked at each other. Another mystery.
"Maybe I've the answer for this problem, sir." Iria intervened.
"I'm listening."
"My scans are revealing that this system is inhabited. There're inhabitants on at least two of its planets, and I can detect a number of asteroid outposts and space stations."
"A local civilizations?"
"My guess is that it is, sir. Also, I don't detect any kind of warp signature, and their type of transmission is pretty primitive for our standards."
Timoreev raised from his chair: "So, here it is: we've found an advanced pre-warp civilization. The freighter has been probably destroyed by local pirates, or is there some kind of war in this system?"
"Neither of them, sir. I'm receiving transmissions from every corner of the system, and the translator is doing its best: there's chaos out there, clearly. They've detected something."
"Something?" Timoreev turned on his science officer, clearly disturbed by that news. He walked toward her station: "They've detected us then..."
The Vulcan scrolled her head: "No, sir. There's something much larger...and definitely more dangerous, then us."
"What is it?" Timoreev was almost impatient.
"An asteroid, sir. It is on a direct collision course with what appears to be the homeworld of this civilization. ETA: five days."
Silence suddenly fell on the bridge. Few officers turned their attention on Iria. Even Morisette raised from his position and looked at her: "You're saying...the planet is doomed?" she asked faintly.
Iria's voice was plain and calm as always: "The asteroid is quiet large. The impact would probably render the planet uninhabitable. But I don't think it's doomed."
"Why do you say so?" Timoreev asked.
"Because, sir, it is decelerating."

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 2

When surprise was finally cast aside, Timoreev ordered a full round of sensor sweeps. They had to determine what was that object, and what was happening exactly before taking any decision. It was a misfortune that the Ananke didn't carry sensors as advanced as thus of the Rutledge, Timoreev thought.
By the way, the final report came only four hours later. During the waiting, the ship stayed on yellow alert, while monitoring the "object" through sensors, without penetrating more deeply into that system.
The standard meeting between senior officers in the conference lounge was more lively than Timoreev expected.
"Are you saying that it is some sort of starship?" Commander Halora, the Chief Engineer, was asking to Iria after she had sketched out the first results of her analysis.
"Not exactly: it is undoubtedly an asteroid, but it has been heavily modified. My hypothesis is that we are looking at an outpost, however equipped with engines for sublight travel."
"That'd be a true engineering endeavour..." Halora commented: "Is this civilization capable of doing something like this?"
"Unlikely. All the informations we have point toward an alien provenance, even for this system."
"New data about its trajectory?" Timoreev intervened. He was amazed by what Iria already told them, and the engineer inside himself would have loved to know every single detail. Yet, he was deeply unsettled by that whole situation. He felt oppressed by an unidentifiable feeling.
"Still the same, directly pointing at the main planet of the system. Its deceleration has been constant however."
"So will it avoid a collision?"
"Since we are talking about an abherrant behavior, I cannot predict that. However..."
"However?" Timoreev urged.
"Decelerating or not, if it crosses the gravitational field of the planet, the probabilities of a crash increase sensibly."
Timoreev sighed. Morisette, at his left, was drumming with her fingers on the table.
"News from the planet?" Timoreev looked at Sesit, the Chief Operations Officer. He had taksed her previously with monitorning the transmissions coming from the system.
"Apparently, they're confused, and extremely worried. I've been able to confirm that it was this...asteroid, the responsible for the destruction of the freighter which launched the distress call. Other two ships have been lost the same way during the last hours."
"This asteroid....has weapons?" Morisette stopped drumming, and looked at Iria, still standing up near the room monitor.
The Vulcan scientist recalled on the screen the specifics of the object, as elaborated by the sensors: "It has a wide arsenal, indeed. Energy weapons, point defense systems, and torpedoes."
"Shields?"
"A very sophisticated version of a covariant shield."
"And it's indiscriminately attacking everything on its way..." Morisette commented grimly.
Timoreev moved his eyes from the monitor back to the table. He looked just in front of him.
"We didn't detect life signs on board, right?" Timoreev rethorically asked.
"We didn't, sir." Iria answered, while taking again her seat around the table.
"Then we haven't much of a choice. We need to investigate further, and quickly; and to pursue a contact with whoever, or whatever, is on board. Lets establish a link, something. We need to uncover their intentions and, possibly, resolve this emergency without a catastrophe on a planetary scale."
"May I remind you, sir, that our interference would be a direct violation of the Prime Directive?" Iria noted, plainly.
"I hope you're joking." Morisette intervened, clearly in disagreement: "We've already established that that thing, whatever is it, is far from being originated in this system. Thus, we are not facing the natural evolution of a culture, but its destruction on the part of external forces."
"Many times cultures and civilizations have been harmed or destroyed by what you call...external forces." Iria rebuffed "That doesn't mean we have the right to intervene whenever it pleases us."
"Are you suggesting we let them die, just because they have no warp technology? They're under attack by a clearly superior foe. There's nothing here pertaining to their natural evolution: their path has been clearly changed from outside."
"Your logic could appear sound. However, I have to agree with Commander Iria: the Prime Directive still applies here. To do otherwise, would mean that Starfleet has the right to do interfere whenever it wishes." Sesit intervened.
Morisette clearly wasn't in the mood to let it go: "We are all forgetting one thing: they asked for our help?"
"The distress call?"
"Precisely."
"We cannot know with certainty if it was directed to other possible spacefaring races. It would be more logic to assume that it was a general call directed to whoever in the system could listen."
Timoreev raised his left hand. He hadn't said anything, still looking in front of him while listening at the hot debate among his officers. Listening, and contemplating the different paths laying in front of them. He felt still very uncomfortable, more than ever.
"I understand that there's no general agreement about what we should do. The Prime Directive needs to be taken into account. But so are the circumstances of this unusual situation. So, here are your tasks." he paused for a moment, as to recall all his thoughts to form a unified plan.
"Iria, I want other scans of that thing, whatever it is. I want you and engineering to work closely in order to understand the exact capabilities of that thing, in terms of firepower, defences, general technological level. I want it dissected, pieace by piece. Possibly, search for weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and eventually coordinate with tactical for an emergency plan." he paused again, turning on Sesit: "Sesit, keep monitoring their communications, lets try to see what the inhabitants of this system want to do about this possible danger. We will keep our condition and position until further notice, waiting to see what happens. But I want to be prepared. Dismissed."
One by one, the senior officers raised from their chairs, moving toward the exit. Only Morisette stayed behind, few steps from the door. She turned on Timoreev, who was now standing in front of the windows, looking at the deep vacuum outside.
"It's a tough choice..."
Timoreev didn't turn.
"It's never easy to stand down while there are lives at risk. But we need to wait."
Morisette nodded. She understood that the mind of the captain was by now flying in his own thoughts. She walked through the door, directed toward the bridge.
Timoreev still looked at the stars. His discomfort was growing, and so were the questions. What was happening exactly? What was the origin of that thing?
The future of a whole civilization was possibly at stake. They could be annhilated, or perhaps not. But in both cases, the outcome was certain: their view of the universe would be changed forever.
Timoreev sighed, crossing his hands behind the shoulder. Here he was, standing on the edge, observing while extraordinary events were changing a whole civilization. Billions of people were probably looking at those same stars, questioning if they would survive the challenge. They couldn't know the answer. But neither Timoreev could, about himself.

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 3

Eventually, the inhabitants of the system made their own choice. They choose to fight.
Not that it was a surprise for anybody, on board the Ananke. Still, to see their fleet emerging from their homeland's orbit, moving in formation toward the new, unexpected, threat, was a moving sight. Well hidden inside the rings of the outernmost planet of the system, the crew of the Ananke was nonetheless able to follow all the events unfolding out there. Timoreev and Morisette, in particular, watched the mainscreen, seeing the signals of the ships disappearing one by one, as soon as they were destroyed by the powerful arsenal of the moving asteroid. At the end, few scattered survivors withdrew.
Morisette shook her head: "They were no match for it." she commented, sadly.
Timoreev raised from his chair, suddenly turning on Iria: "Those analysis I asked for...are they ready?"
"Ready, sir."
"All senior officers to the conference lounge. Now."

This time, the discussion went far more smoothly. Not that there weren't objections anymore to a direct intervention, but Timoreev this time left no doubt at where his position was.
Apart for the sad destiny of the fleet they had seen, there was something else which led the captain. As Iria reported few hours before, she was able to isolate and analize the energy signature of the asteroid giant engines. Thus, she had discovered something unexpected: it was the same signature left by the drone the Ananke collected almost a year before, in one of their first patrols in that region of space.
Timoreev was clearly impressed by that news. He wanted to understand more, to further unveil that mystery.
A plan was eventually laid in: a shuttle would reach the asteroid, allowing few officers to get on board, trying to figure out what to do and how. To disguise the shuttle from the Ankarans (that was the name of the local civilization, apparently), it'd have to follow the original trail of the asteroid, using its residual plasma to mask its presence.
"I'll lead the shuttle." Timoreev said all of a sudden.
Morisette was clearly not so surprised at hearing that statement, however, she tried all the same: "Are you sure, sir?"
"Sure. Halora?" he turned his eyes on the Chief Engineerg; the Bolian girl raised her head as a response: "You'll come with me. I'd use another hand with any engineering issue out there."
"Aye, sir."
"Iria, I need also an exobiologist, someone who could understand any kind of life which we could find there, and that has escaped our sensors; and also a xenolinguist."
"Lieutenant Sumida, the head of our Exobiology Department, has also a minor in xenolinguistics, sir." the Vulcan commander replied plainly.
Timoreev raised an eyebrow (in a very Vulcan manner): "I didn't know about that. Very well, inform her to be prepared for 0900 hours in the shuttle bay." He looked around the table, to his officers: "In case our attempts from the inside should fail, I want the ship ready for battle. We'll engage that asteroid and try to divert him with every necessary mean, peacefully...or not." There was a brief pause. Silence fell on the room: "Dismissed."
While the officers were clearing the room, Timoreev remained for few minutes, his hands on the table. Sumida a xenolinguist? He would've never expected that. But he felt clearly glad that she was to get on board with him.

At first, Timoreev had thought of bringing one of the runabouts for the mission. However, Iria (rightly) pointed out that the smaller the shuttle, the better. At the end, the choice fell on a Type 6 shuttle. As expected, the team assembled in the shuttle bay in time. The four members (Timoreev asked also for a security officer to join them, in case of trouble) left the ship few minutes after.
The journey to the asteroid didn't provide any surprise. Clearly, Ankaran ships tried everything possiblt to avoid even the vicinities of the asteroid. The situation on their homeworld had quickly degenerated: after the defeat of their fleet, the Ankaran government had decided to mobilize every possible ship for an emergency evacuation, while civil strife began to torment the main cities; the remnantes of the fleet were to keep a sort of defense perimeter; surprisingly, distress calls were also sent clearly outside the system. Although this measure didn't ease Iria and Sesit's objections, at least it did so for Timoreev and Morisette.
They employed four hours to reach the asteroid. When they first saw it, everybody on board was left amazed: one thing was to see it from the viewscreen, on the bridge of a starship; another to see it with their own eyes, from a small shuttle. Although the giant engines were still emitting a faint, blue, light, everything else seemed to be dead. Timoreev carefully led the shuttle toward a small platform. They had detected it during their analysis on the Ananke, and it appeared to have an airlock. Maybe it was some sort of external maintenance shaft. By the way, that was their chosen way of entrance.
As soon as the shuttle was on the platform, they took their EV suits and reached the exterior. Opening the airlock proved to be a bit difficult, but at the end they were able to do so without damaging anything (at least, they hoped so). Then, they stepped inside that giant, dark, threat.

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 4

The first minutes of their exploration was spent realizing how effectively huge was the place they had just stepped in...and, conversely, how tiny they were.
At first sight (if that could be the word: most of the lights were out, for some reasons, and darkness was almost sovereign), the whole asteroid had been carved: now, beyond the rocky surfare there were halls, corridors, even whole buildings. Their exact disposition was still a mystery, of course, and the tricorder were still busy keeping track of them. It appeared as a sort of elaborate, very sophisticated, maze.
"I guess we've found our space version of Cnossus." Timoreev joked while looking at his tricorder. Unfortunately for him, only Sumida caught the reference, and she limited herself at shaking her head. She was astounded by what they were finding.
They were still not sure if they had effectively entered through a maintenance shaft of some sort. However, they had found themselves wandering in larger halls very soon.
"It's weird." Halora exclaimed at one point: "We've seen how all defense systems, and even engines, are fully functional. Inside, however, almost everything is dead."
"Maybe they've prioritized those systems, and there's enough energy for all." Timoreev commented: "Life support is fully functional, tough."
"Indeed. But lights definitely aren't working."
"We should find the engineering section...or an access terminal, maybe. We need to start working on the systems, possibly neutralizing its defenses. And I wish to know more about this place as well."
"Here!"
It was Sumida calling, ahead of them.
They moved toward her voice, until they reached her: she was standing in front of a great cave, few kilometers long, and almost twice as deep. Halora looked aroun herself, until she could find a small panel. She scanned it.
"These look like controls of some kind. I bet we're on a movable platform."
"Maybe, that panel could provide us also with a map..."
The Bolian clearly had already thought that. She was working with her tricorder, trying to access the panel and, possibly, what was inside it.
"Found it!"
"Let's take a look at that."
Through an holographic display, now the asteroid interiors were fully visible for them, including a smal, yellow symbol, which they interpreted as their current position.
"So...where's engineering?" Timoreev asked.
"We still have to translate the language. The translator is experiencing some difficulties..." Sumida commented, while looking at the display: "We have to rely on our own interpretations until we could find some good text to use as template."
They were talking at low voice, without even noticing it, almost as they were in some sort of holy place. Their voices were echoing in the hall (or whatever else they were in), making a strange contrast with the otherwise-total silence. It wasn't that kind of silence some people find relaxing: it was almost disturbing, oppressing...it was the silence of a long-dead place.
Finally, they got it.
"At least, that could be a good place to start with..." Timoreev said: "Now: how can we move this platform...if it is effectively movable?"
But Halora hadn't finished interacting with the panel. She was still working on it, anticipating the will of her captain. Few seconds later, the platform was moving, and the team found itself floating on that dark abyss. There were railings, of course, and supports. Still, it was an amazing, and at the same time terrifying, experience.
When the platform finally stopped, bringing them in front of a metallic door, everybody felt very glad to leave it.

"Status."
Morisette was walking up and down the bridge, her hands crossed behind the shoulder, alternatively looking at the viewscreen and at one of the other officers there.
"Still nothing." Iria answered, plainly: "No changes of any kind."
"The Ankarans?"
"The evacuation is a gargantuan task. They have their hands full with it."
"Have they detected the shuttle?"
"Not at all. And if they have, they're doing their best to ignore it."
Morisette sighed, while stopping for a moment. The more she contemplated that situation, the more she felt disturbed. Began with a simple distress call, their mission has evolved into saving a whole civilization! And she felt compelled at trying everything in her power to prevent the annhilation of the Ankarans. Maybe she was really leaving herself to be deceived by her feelings and emotions, as Halora and Sesit tried to point out, but who cared? She was human, after all. And she was a Starfleet officer. She had the duty of protecting life. And now life in the Ankaran system was threatened by an unforeseeable, external, threat. Something should have been done.
But to wait there, while the captain and the others were inside the asteroid, was frustrating, to say the least. Timoreev didn't hail them, still.
Morisette suddenly turned on Sesit: "Lieutenant, hail the captain. I want to check their situation." she said, with a firmer voice than she inteded to use.
"No response, sir."
"What?" she reached the ops console, almost with a leap: "Try again."
"Still nothing."
"Iria?"
"Something is blocking our communications...."
"Something? What?"
"It's probably the asteroid surface. I cannot find any kind of jamming signal, so it's probably a natural effect."
Morisette clearly was not amused by that news. She kept looking at the ops console and the viewscreen.
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and saw Iria just near her, staring at her with her deep blue eyes.
"We anticipated that something similar could happen."
Morisette sighed, then nodded. Yes, she knew that. She understood what Iria was doing (although in a rather ungainly way): she was trying to calm her down. It was abudantly clear that she was beginning to feel stressed.
Morisette reached the captain's chair, finally sitting.
"Very well, then. We have to wait."
"Maybe not for very long..."
"What do you mean?"
"I can read a new energy signature coming from the asteroid: clearly something has been activated."

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 5

Light erupted almost instantly, flooding the huge and silent halls of the asteroid, and disveiling them to the eyes of the explorers.
The team had stepped into what appeared to be the engineering section a few minutes before, and they were working on different panels, attempting to reactivate energy.
"We've done it." Halora said.
"I wouldn't be so sure." was the more laconic comment from Timoreev.
"What do you mean?"
"If I'm reading these signals correctly, then it's possible that it's a sort of automatic process. Probably our interaction with these panels brought to its activation. I don't know...this technology is quiet obscure."
Halora sighed.
Meanwhile, Sumida was looking around, frantically scanning with her tricorder, and looking with her eyes for...something to translate.
"We need to reach the command center. I want to be sure we haven't activated anything else apart for lights." Timoreev said.
"It's few decks above us, apparently."
There was another platform waiting for them. They took it, and they quickly reached their destination, this time without traversing any sort of abyss.
The command center was astounding: a huge room, completely surrounded by what appeared to be glass, flooded by light coming both from the interior and the exterior. Evidently, it was the top of a tower, since, from the glass panels, it was possible to look outside: they looked at the buldings rising in the cave, from the ground, the sides, even the "roof". Weirdly enough, there were very few consoles or panels to interact with, although the one feature which immediately attracted their attention were the three seats just at the center of the room.
Timoreev reached them: "These could be some control stations." he commented, while using his own tricorder on them: "Although I cannot see controls of any kind here....and I'm also picking up some unusual reading....Halora?"
The Bolian reached the captain, immediately beginning to scan as well: "True. Quiet unusual.....My guess is that they connect directly to the main computer. I'm also reading increasing energy flows coming from the main reactor since we first stepped in this room, like if it's being slowly refilled with energy....reactivated."
Sumida flanked the two while they were discussing: "From the form of the seats, I believe we could easily establish that the builders of this place were humanoids." she said: "Although I still cannot find texts to use as translation templates."
Timoreev nodded: "My question is: where are they? Why did they leave?"
"I can answer your questions, if you wish so."
A voice suddenly resonated through the room. It was, apparently, from a male individual.
"Who are you?" Timoreev immediately asked. Halora and Sumida were trying to determine the source of the voice.
"My designation is 120/9, and I'm the intelligence responsible for the management of this infrastructure."
Timoreev raised an eyebrow: "Intelligence? You mean....artificial intelligence?"
"That's correct."
There was a few seconds of pause.
"Why are you speaking our language?" Sumida finally asked.
"I observed you for a while in order to learn your language, before revealing myself."
"So you were already conscious of our presence on board?"
"In part, I was."
Another break of silence. It was an odd situation.
"Let us start plainly" Timoreev said again: "I suppose you know why we are here, too..."
"From my analysis, I've determined that the most probable reason is my entrance in this solar system."
"Very well. You're right."
"However, that's a vague reason. I wish to assess your exact motives."
Timoreev didn't answer immediately. After all, he knew nothing about his interlocutor. What kind of AI was it? What was its purpose? He couldn't simply say "Hello, we're here to stop you from destroying a whole civilization." Nope. The situation clearly needed a more subtle approach.
"You said you could answer my previous question." the captain said: "So, do it: where're your creators?"
"They are no more."
"What do you mean? Are they dead?"
"Their civilization has vanished a long time ago."
"How?"
For a moment, it looked as the AI was reluctant to answer. Perhaps, he was becoming a bit suggestionable, Timoreev thought.
"Many different factors caused their fall."
An intelligent answer.
Suddenly, Sumida intervened in that unreal discussion: "What's your role?"
"I'm charged with maintaining this installation in proper function, and to protect the borders of the Valdari Autarchy against all its enemies."
Sumida looked at Timoreev. She said nothing, but the captain understood. Those words were probably the key to understand what was happening. And he decided to bet on that.
"Is this the reason why you entered this system? To protect the...Autarchy?"
"Correct."
"But you said that your creators are no more. Your goal cannot be achieved anymore."
Silence. Perhaps he was too precipitous, he thought.
Suddenly, they perceived movement under their feets. They were moving again.

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 6

On the Ananke bridge, the news came out as a very unpleasant surprise.
Until then, they thought to have at least some time. Now, time was clearly up.
Morisette was still on the captain's chair, looking alternatively at the small console on her right and to the viewscreen, which was at that moment picturing the projected trajettory of the asteroid. Right against the Ankaran homeworld.
"ETA for the planet?" Morisette asked to Iria.
"At current speed, it will break the point of no return approximately in four hours."
"Damn it." Morisette murmured: "Still no news from the away team?"
"None."
"Then apparently we have no choice." she raised from the chair, adjusting her uniform, her eyes firmly on the viewscreen: "Helm, plot a course to the asteroid. Use the same one of the shuttle, we'll try to cover our presence as much as possible." then she paused for a moment: "Red alert, shields up. Bring weapons online." she ordered with the most firm voice she could make.

Nobody reacted immediately when they understood the asteroid was moving again. Timoreev was clearly worried: was that caused by his statement? Could an AI possibly be offended?
Halora, on her side, did not loose much time in thinking. She used her tricorder to understand exactly what was happening. Sumida, still standing near the captain, was thinking about what was going to happen next.
"Why are we moving again?" Timoreev finally asked, clearly to 120/9.
"The mission has yet to be completed."
"What mission?"
"To protect the Autarchy."
"There's no Autarchy anymore."
"This is irrilevant."
How so? Timoreev was astounded. Maybe there was a malfunction in the circuits of that AI. If only they could understand more about it....
"Why is it irrilevant?" Sumida asked.
"I was tasked with protecting the borders of the Autarchy. I shall carry on my mission, because it's my duty, my reason of existence. The Valdari made me for this goal."
"Even if there are no Valdari left alive?"
"I still exist. So my goal still exist."
There was something weird about that speech, Sumida thought. She turned her eyes on Timoreev. Yes, he was clearly thinking the same thing; she could perceive that by his gaze.
Timoreev raised one eyebrow. He wasn't an expert about artificial intelligences, so I could rule out any possibility. Still, he had a weird feeling about all that...
Surprisingly, this time it was their interlocutor who spoke first: "I don't expect you to understand. But I needed your presence here for a specific reason. Now, I need one of you to keep this installation working."
Timoreev raised his head, worried, although he tried to conceal that while answering: "What do you mean by that?"
"I....I may have the answer, sir." it was Halora speaking.
Both Timoreev and Sumida almost instantly turned on her.
The Bolian girl made few steps toward the two: "While you were talking, I was analyzing this room with the tricorder, and I found some....interesting features." she said: "This is no control room. This is a sort of...well...processor."
"A processor??" Timoreev asked, clearly surprised.
"I'd not use such word. However, it is sufficiently accurate." once again, the voice of 120/9 interrupted the debate.
"How this would help answering my question?" Timoreev was still looking at Halora.
She pointed the solitary seat behind his shoulders: "The seat out there is the sole access to the processor, as I called it. In truth, it's a very sophisticated interface, which is able to connect a sentient mind with the main computer, which will in turn process all the necess..."
She was stopped by Timoreev raising his hand: "You mean...that it needs to interface with living beings in order to properly work?"
"Correct. But wrong at the same time." 120/9 answered: "You are treating separately two things that are, in fact, united. The interface is needed because the sentient mind IS the computer. There is no difference. That's why I needed you here: I need a new connection, in order to repair some of the damage made by the passing of time."
"So, it was all a trap."
"Not exactly. You came here voluntarily. I had simply let you in."
"Well, none of us is here to provide fuel for a computer." Timoreev replied, almost angry: "We can reach a compromise solution..."
"No compromise, captain. The solution is only one."
Everything happened before Timoreev had the possibility to say anything. In a blink of an eye, a light surrounded Sumida, just next to him. Less than a second after, she was sitting in that chair at the center of the room. Timoreev and Halora quickly reached her, the Bolian still with her tricorder on hand.
Sumida didn't answer them when they called. She was just laying there, her brown eyes opened wide and looking toward the ceiling.
"She's in the system, sir."

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 7

Years before, Tanegashima, Earth.

They used to visit that weird place during their childhood.
"It was a spaceport."
"A spaceport?"
"Yes. From there, in the past, people launched those small probes and primitive rocket starships that you both have seen on the books."
Kanae and her sister loved to hear the tales of their grandmother about the past of their island. Although she had never seen that spaceport in activity, she had heard the same stories from her grandmother, and so on, back into the centuries.
"Why there aren't starships anymore?" Nagamine asked once.
"You know, my dear, in the past Earth was different. There was no Federation, and there were often wars between States...so, one day, a great war erupted, and nobody had the time to send starships into space anymore."
Nagamine was fascinated by those stories, more than Kanae. She loved to dream about that strange past of Earth, and about those primitive starships. When she was eleven, she convinced her parents to bring her to the Starfleet Museum of San Francisco. Then, the path was laid down for her to join Starfleet.
Kanae still remembered when her sister informed her parents of the decision. They looked to each other, as they often did before saying something important to their daughters. Then, their mother smiled: "Well, Nagamine. I cannot say I'm surprised." They were worried of course, but proud nonetheless. They knew what Nagamine was capable of, and they had all the intentions to let her daughter follow her own destiny.
When she left Tanegashima, half the town was there to say goodbye. Kanae, of course, was at the frontline. She had tears on her face: no more walks in the ancient spaceport, no more riding the waves of the ocean together; she didn't know when she would have seen her again.
However, they still spoke to each other a lot: Nagamine kept regular contacts with her family during her stay in San Francisco, and particularly with Kanae. She told her of her decision to enroll into the Science Department, and to study archaeology.
In the meanwhile, Kanae kept going with her life. Alone, she also kept surfing. At first, it was strange for her. Then, little by little, she came to appreciate that feeling of pure loneliness, when she found herself riding the last wave, with nobody watching her except for the bright sun of the afternoon.
The years passed, and Nagamine graduated. The ceremony was beautiful. The image of all those young cadets, ready to receive their official commission as ensigns and to go out into the outer space, was to become one of the most vivid memories of Kanae's life. Nagamine looked beautiful in her uniform, and she was so proud of her.
She was subsequently embarked on the U.S.S. Valakis, Nova class. Contacts became more sporadic. And so that feeling of loneliness grew inside Kanae, more and more.
She was starting to wonder what to do with her own life, what path to take. Her sister took her life into her own hands. On the contrary, she was still there, trying to ride the waves....
Then, one day, the news came. Nagamine had been by then transferred to the U.S.S. Kashet, an old Stargazer class vessel, recently recommissioned. The Kashet was sent to investigate and possibly chart the edges of an unexplored nebula at the borders of the Donatu Sector. It was to be a relatively simple assignment. But, as often occur in Starfleet, that wasn't the case. The Kashet disappeared, with all hands. Starfleet launched many expeditions in order to find out what had been its fate, but no clue was found. At the end, the crew was classified as missing in action.
The news almost destroyed Nagamine. She remembered of walking toward the ancient spaceport, crying alone toward the sky in that absolute silence. Surrounded by those ruins, she cried and cried until she had voice. Then, she fell on the ground, devoid of all energies.


Present day, Ankaran system.

Kanae looked around her. She was sitting there, looking at the bright blue sky, the small, candid, white clouds, the crop fields, punctuated by grey houses, and the trees, and she thought that never in her life had she seen such an accurate representation of pure serenity. Never. Even Tanegashima didn't look that way.
"Is that what it looked like?" she asked to her silent interlocutor.
"I did the best I could" was his answer "Sometimes I can feel my memories fading away. Slowly, but ineluctably."
He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were firmly put on that picture of beauty.
"Time is such a ruthless enemy." she suddenly said, breaking the silence which was covering that scene. She said it by impulse, the words simply emerging from her mouth.
He turned her, and for the time she saw him smiling: "It is, indeed."
She looked at him as well. He was wearing a long, blue dress; his face, so similar to that of a human being, differed only in few details. Was that how a Valdari looked like?
She didn't have to state her question. He answered immediately: "Yes, this was the appearance of my race." he said: "We're not so different, aren't we?"
He was still smiling.
Undoubtedly, they weren't very different. However, something was troubling Kanae. Questions began to rise in her mind: what was she really doing out there? What happened? She recalled her memories: she was in the room with Timoreev and the rest of the away team, then she found herself....there.
At first, the place was different: it was a plain, filled with a strange flora, more similar to huge mushrooms, and with small, flying animals whirling around. She didn't understand, at first. For a while she walked around that place, almost uncapable of understanding. Then, she began to guess: that wasn't a real place. She remembered of the telepathic experience she and the rest of the crew experienced months ago.
"This is something similar..." she said to herself.
"More or less." the answer came, suddenly, from her behind.
She had turned back, and he saw him for the first time: she didn't know, but still she knew. He was 120/9. Or, at least, that was his representation.
"Where am I?"
"You're inside the system. Interfacing with me."
"You?"
"Exactly."
"You have kidnapped me!"
She looked straight at him, but he didn't seem affected by the outrage in her voice.
"I was obliged to take action. I don't have much time left."
Kanae didn't answer immediately.
"I know it must be confusign for you" he continued "But you must understand: I'm not an artificial intelligence, not the way you conceive it."
Yes, she already had the suspicion.
"You're....an organic mind..." she tentatively said.
He nodded: "My synaptic engrams were collected inside the system. My mind, my soul, if you prefer it, have been enclosed inside it."
"Wh....why?"
"Because that was my duty. It was an honor to had such an assignment."
"But now....your patterns are starting to disgregate."
"Correct."
"And you need.....a substitute?"
"A successor."
How unreal was all that? That conversation, in that environment? It was like an hallucinating dream.
"Why me?"
"I scanned your engrams, your minds, as soon as you stepped inside the installation. I found your mind mostly....interesting."
Was that some sort of compliment?
He kept talking: "I received the confirm I needed when I brought you inside the system: you're quiet peculiar, Kanae Sumida. Your memories, in particular..."
"My memories?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the environment suddenly changed. In the blink of an eye, the weird giant mushrooms disappeared, and Kanae found herself back in the ancient spaceport of Tanegashima. It was exactly like she remembered it.
"This place....is a ruin, isn't it?" he asked.
But Kanae didn't answer; and he didn't seem to bother.
"I guess so, yes, from what I can see in your memories." he wasn't looking at her anymore; he was clearly fascinated by that view: "Your mind is almost trapped inside this place, although I still don't understand why. I'll understand soon."
Silence.
"You've no right of doing this. These are MY memories, MY mind." Kanae finally said. She could feel the rage inside herself. She felt naked in front of that...being.
"I have the right, and the duty." he answered: "I must be sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible. This is a delicate procedure..."
"There will be no procedure. Release me immediately, then you'll talk with my captain, and we'll try to figure out what to do to help you."
He shook his head: "You still don't understand. There's only one way. This way. Don't resist me, Kanae. You can help me......and I can help you."

Timoreev made a great effort not to rage against his silent interlocutor, and to keep his nerve. He was the captain, after all, it was his duty. Still, seeing Sumida lying there, on that chair....
"She's beginning to integrate into the system" Halora commented, without taking her eyes out of the tricorder: "It is a terribly complicated system.."
"Still, we must find a way inside."
"How?"
He sighed. That was a good question. Then, he had a sudden intuition.
He raised a finger: "Do you hear something?" he asked to his chief engineer.
Halora stood silent for a moment, then answered: "No, sir."
"Exactly. It isn't talking to us anymore."
Halora didn't say anything.
"120/9!" Timoreev called.
No answer came.
"What do you think, captain?"
"I cannot be sure...perhaps it's trying to fake us. Perhaps, instead..."
"...he cannot answer us."
"Exactly. Because it's busy."
"Busy integrating lieutenant Sumida's mind in its system."
Timoreev nodded. He knew he could count on Halora's mind.
"If I know her, she's trying to resist."
"If she could..."
"That's our only hope. We need to take advantage of the time we have, while it can see us."
"So, what we do know?"
Timoreev sighed. They had already ascertained that it was impossible to simply move Sumida out: that would have irreparably damaged her mind. They had to find a way to disconnect her.
And they had to do it soon.

"ETA five minutes."
"Weapons online, and ready at your command."
"Still no change in the asteroid's course."
On the captain's chair, Morisette heard those reports almost with indifference. She was focusing on the task ahead. They had to stop that asteroid at all costs. But, still, they didn't know nothing about the status of the away team. And they didn't know if their weapons would be sufficient for the goal.
"Try to hail the captain again."
"No response."
"The Ankarans?"
"The evacuation is still on going. But the asteroid will reach the point of no return in less than three hours now."
Morisette turned her eyes on Iria. The Vulcan was tirelessly operating at her station, until she noticed the first officer looking at her. She didn't say anything; instead, she simply looked back at her. It was all Morisette needed.
She nodded, before turning back on the viewscreen.
"Target their engines with all we have. Prepare to fire at my command."

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 8

The words that 120/9 said to her while looking at the ruins on Tanegashima had left her silent for a moment. Her interlocutor had taken that opportunity for himself: "As more time passes, I can understand you better, Kanae. I can see and understand your feelings, your fears, and your memories." he said.
This time she didn't rage against him. There was something, in his voice, which had led her to understand those words were no threat. They were simply the truth.
"You're wondering why I said that I could help you. The reason is simple: because I can." he paused for a moment: "I can help you finding peace, here, and now. Peace from your struggles, from your sense of loss."
She was stunned by those words. She was beginning to understand as well.
It was in that moment that he recreated that balcony, and they both found themselves sitting there, looking at that pieace of a vanished heaven. She was breathless in front of such beauty.
"While in the system, you can be everywhere, in every time." he continued "The sole limit is your own memory. Every wish of yours could be realized: for example, what you feel for your captain..."
She suddenly turned her eyes on him: "My feelings?"
"In part, they're still hidden even for you, Kanae. But you're already starting to realize the truth."
She stood silent once again. It was like talking with her own mind.
"You fear where these feelings could lead you. Here, that fear would be non-sense." he smiled again: "Your feelings could be easily realized. Like others, as well. For example, the loss of your sister..."
"She's dead." she said, unconvincingly even for herself. She had never said those words before.
"Do you really think so?"
Kanae took a deep breath: "Yes."
"Don't try to deceive me, Kanae. It's impossible. I know of your programs on the holodeck, where you still surf with her on the ocean. I know of your feelings about her, and how you still hope she's alive."
"That's enough." she said. There wasn't anger in her voice. Still, that discussion was deeply disturbing her. She could feel her heart beating increasing minute by minute.
"I didn't mean to offend you." he apologized: "But I would like for you to fully understand what you'll gain, remaining here."
She raised her hands, pointing toward the landscape: "This is nothing but illusion. So would be everything else I'd create here. Illusions, only illusions! How could I possibly live knowing that my whole life is a lie?" her breath was accelerating while talking. Her eyes were firmly on her interlocutor.
Still, he didn't seem bothered by that sudden outcry. Instead, for the third time he smiled: "Illusions, you say. Lies. Do you really think that? Do you believe that I'd have accepted this duty, if they were only illusions? All of this is real, not differently from your own reality, Kanae. Why should you call an illusion the only place where you can really be happy? If you can live the life you desire here, then this is not an illusion. It is fulfillment."

"Are you sure there's no way to disrupt their engines without firing?" Morisette asked one last time to Iria. She already knew the answer to that question but, still, she had to ask.
The Vulcan replied, plain and calm as ever: "I'm sure. We could disrupt one or two of them with a concentrated emission of tetryon particles, but the others would keep working. We don't have much time."
"Then we have to stick to our original plan." Morisette nodded, before turning on Kolez, who was sitting at the tactical, as usual: "Target their engines. All weapons ready at my command."
"Ready, sir."
There was a second of silence. Morisette looked one last time at that asteroid. The captain was on that thing, and they didn't know nothing about his conditions. Still, she had to act, and quickly.
"Fire."

The first shake alerted Timoreev and the others.
"It should be the Ananke. We are running out of time." Halora commented.
Timoreev gnashed his teeth: "I know." He looked back at Sumida. She there, on that chair, completely helpless.
Then, he decided: "We'll adapt one of our tricorders to generate a small neutronic wave. In theory, it should disrupt the link. In case this fails..." and he turned his green eyes on the Bolian: "Leave the place immediately."
"Sir? And you?"
"In case, I'll stay here, trying a final attempt."
"But, sir..."
"These are my orders."
"Yes, captain."

"What is happening?" Sumida asked when he suddenly say her interlocutor rising the face against the blue sky.
"Your ship is attacking us." he said, plainly, as it was something completely normal.
Sumida sighed: "Please, we can find a solution to this!"
But 120/9 didn't answer. He was still looking at the sky, like he was completey absorbed by something else.

"Sir, I'm detecting multiple energy signatures from the asteroid: it's charging weapons." Iria said.
"Helm, evasive maneuvrers: pattern Omega 2."
"Aye, sir."
"It's firing!"
Two seconds later, the Ananke was violently shaken.
"Report!"
"Shields at 95% and holding." Iria reported: "I'm afraid it was more of a warning shot."
"I'm sorry, but we cannot stand down just now. Keep firing!"
"Another wave coming!"
"Brace for impact!"
This time, the shake was much worse then before. The EPS conduits behind a console at Morisette's right overloaded, and the unfortunate crewman stationed there was hurried back, on the bridge floor, by the explosion.
"Damn it" Morisette said: "Medical team on the bridge."
"Shields at 75%."
"What? 75? How's it possible?"
"It's adapting the energy levels to match our shields."
"Enemy status?"
After all they were still firing.
"We've managed to disable one of their engines. But it isn't affecting its movement."
"We've to find something else...." Morisette murmoured, just when another wave hit the ship.
"Shields at 60% and falling. Minor damages reported on decks 6 and 13."
"....and we must to it quickly."

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 9

Timoreev decided to personally handle the tricorder modifications. Although working in tandem with Halora, in order to speed the process, he was completely focused on the job. The continuous shakes were reminding him they were out of time, and options.
"Here it is." Halora finally said: "That should be sufficient."
"I hope so."
Once again, Timoreev reached Sumida's side, looking at her. It was now or never.
He took the tricorder on his hand, and pressed the button.

On the balcony, in the fictional reconstruction of the world of the Valdari, Sumida was still looking at 120/9. He didn't answer her calls. Clearly, the defense of the asteroid was his primary concern, and was absorbing all his attentions.
Then, something happened.
Sumida fell a sort of shockwave in her body, and the world around her trembled for a moment. She looked at the sky: it was....evanescent.
Her silent companion remerged from his thoughts: "Someone is trying to disrupt the link." he laconically commented.
"Timoreev..." Kanae whispered.
"I cannot allow that."
"Wait!"
120/9 looked at her.
"You don't need to do this."
"We already talked about this, Kanae."
"I know. But think about it for a moment..."
"There's no time for thinking. Your ship is still attacking us, and the Ankaran homeworld hasn't been purged yet."
"Why? Why exterminating a whole civilization?"
But she already knew the answer. It appeared in her mind, suddenly, without warning. The link was getting stronger.
"Because that's Valdari soil...they....you think they occupied it illegally....and this is your first step to restore...the Autarchy?"
"Precisely."
"But that's absurd! The Autarchy fell centuries ago! The Valdari are no more...you said that yourself."
"I can restore them."
"How?"
It is incredible how a single, simple, word sometimes can have the strongest effect. For a moment, 120/9 seemed completely paralyzed.
Sumida looked at him, directly into the eyes: "I'm asking that again: how?"
"I can. I will do it."
"You didn't answer."
"I must do it. With your help..."
"That's impossible. What is gone, is gone."
A cascade of thoughts hit Sumida's mind in that precise moment. She suddenly felt an unbearable sense of loneliness, and loss. They were the thoughts of 120/9, she could recognize them. For few seconds, she was paralyzed as well: all that suffering....Now she was beginning to understand. She had thought it was reason, maybe some kind of distorted logic, to move 120/9. She was wrong. It was the heart. Pure feelings.
She took his hand: "I'm sorry. I....I understand now."
"Do you?"
Sumida nodded her head.
"You know I'm telling the truth. Still, what you're doing is wrong. I know how do you feel....but destroying the Ankarans will not restore Valdar, and will not help you. You've a choice, for once. The choice to make a civilization live, avoiding for them a fate similar to that of the Valdari. Of your friends, and loved ones. Let your heart decide."
He looked at her. Maybe it was just her impression, but she saw a tear on his face.

"Shields at 25%! Injured reported on all decks! We cannot sustain this fire much longer." Iria was shouting, trying to overcome the sounds coming from the alarms, the continuous shakes, and the EPS overloads.
Morisette was firmly looking at the viewscreen: they had managed to inflict some damage to the asteroid, but it was still moving toward the Ankaran homeworld. She had no intention of giving up. She wouldn't allow for such a genocide to take place in front of her eyes. Not that time.
"Keep firing! Change evasive maneuver pattern to Delta 5."
"Sir, we should consider withdrawing."
Morisette turned on Iria just when the Ananke was hit again, and she almost fell out of the captain's chair: "I will not give such an order."
"Shall I remind you, sir..."
"No reminds, Commander. These are my orders."
Iria nodded. Another hit. Lieutenant Kolez, at the tactical station, reported they had lost almost 30% of their firepower.
The situation was getting desperate. Another hit, and fire erupted from the helm console, hitting the crewman who was operating it. He fell on the floor, unconscious...or worse.
At least, there was a last thing she could do, Morisette thought.
"Prepare to abandon ship." she said, as calmly as possible.
Even in that situation, all those on the bridge turned to her: "Sir?"
"I said: prepare to abandon ship."
Then to commander Sesit: "Begin warp-core overload procedures at my command."

"Come on!" Timoreev was shouting toward Sumida. He was holding her hand while keeping pressing the button on the tricorder: "Come on!"
From the tricorder, he knew the neutronic wave was beginning to affect the link. Still, nothing was happening, apparently. Something was wrong.
He looked at Halora: "We're out of time. Go to the shuttle."
"Sir..."
"Now!"
The Bolian girl nodded. Slowly, she walked toward the exit together with the two security men. She turned a last time toward her captain before walking out: "Good luck, sir."

What happened next was incomprehensible for almost all the witnesses.
On the Ananke, procedures had already begun to abandon the vessel. Morisette had taken the helm, ready to personally drive the old lady against the asteroid.
At the same time, inside it, Timoreev, now alone, was still pushing the button on his tricorder, almost desperately. But he was also holding Sumida's hand. Another try, then he'd have had no choice, but to forcibly took her out of there...with all the consequences.
Inside the system, Sumida and 120/9 were still looking at each other. With the link increasing in strength, there was almost no need for words.

Few seconds after, on the Ankaran homeworld, millions of desperate people could see, on their night sky, a sudden light in the dark. It lasted only for a second, or less. Then, it was gone.
The asteroid, that terrible threat against their own survival, was no more.

[Timoreev_]

LONELINESS OF THE DREAMWALKERS
PART 10

"So, is this the final report?"
"Yes, sir."
Timoreev took the padd, giving it a quick glance: "I guess it'll take a bit to read it all."
"Indeed."
For a brief moment, silence fell on the room. Timoreev looked at his first officer, sighing: "You did the right thing, Sarah."
Morisette didn't look too convinced: "Did I?" she was avoiding the captain's eyes: "I was ready to destroy the ship..."
"For a greater good. The Ankarans were on the edge of annhilation."
Morisette didn't answer.
Timoreev reached the desk, leaving there the padd. Then he moved toward the door.
"Are you going to sickbay?"
He didn't answer by word. He simply nodded.
Morisette didn't ask more. She understood perfectly.

Walking through the corridors of a ship large as the Endeavour wasn't easy. Still, Timoreev, who already had been a guest on board before, didn't have many problems. He quickly reached the sickbay doors. But he didn't enter immediately. For a moment, he stared at the closed doors, lost in his thoughts. He sighed. Finally, after few seconds, he walked in.
The sickbay was large, but almost empty. Although the Ananke had had many wounded, most of them had recovered pretty quickly. The most serious ones were in the Ananke's sickbay, under the carefult eyes of doctor Escott. But not all of them.
One of the nurses saw the captain entering the room.
"Captain Timoreev, what can I do for you?"
"I'm here to...see the lieutenant."
The nurse didn't say anything. She nodded, indicating with her hand one of the biobeds at the bottom of the room.
"Thank you."
The captain approached the bed. Lying on it, he could see Sumida. She was motionless, apparently sleeping.
When he was just at her side, she slowly opened her eyes. She spoke very faintly: "Cap...captain..."
Timoreev nodded: "I was just passing by. How do you feel?"
"I...I don't know.....where am I?" she asked, moving her eyes around: "I didn't see doctor Escott..."
"You're on board the Endeavour."
"The...the End...Endeavour?" she was clearly worried: "Why? Th...the ship....the Ananke was..."
Timoreev shook his head: "The Ananke is fine. Well, she took quiet a punch, but she hasn't blown up. However, some of the equipment in sickbay was heavily damaged. Luckily, the Endeavour had everything we needed."
Sumida slowly moved her head, like a sort of nod.
"What....what happened?"
Timoreev sighed. He moved a bit closer.
"That's the hell of a question. We are still looking into it, although it's unlikely we'll have a complete answer. For what we know, you were somehow disconnected from the system, and the asteroid reactor suffered from an overload. It was destroyed, but Halora managed to use the shuttle transporter to beam us out. Luckily, there was no damage for the Ankaran homeworld."
"The asteroid....it exploded?"
"Yes."
Sumida closed her eyes. Thoughts were pressing in her mind. She was remembering 120/9, his words, what she saw inside the system. Perhaps....
"What happened when you were trapped in the system? What did you see? Do you know something which could help us understand what happened?" Timoreev was asking all these questions too quickly. There was something, in his voice, which made Sumida realize that he wasn't too much worried about the asteroid and its fate; he was worried about what happened to her.
She opened her eyes again, and a small smile appeared on her face. Although faint, she moved her right hand to look for that of Timoreev. The captain was surprised by that gesture, and a vague trace of embarassment appeared for a moment; still, he took her hand.
Sumida nodded: "There're a lot....a lot of things I've to tell you."
She looked right into the green eyes of the captain. And, for a brief moment, he understood.
"The doctors say you didn't receive any permanent damage. You'll recover in few days..."
"That's good to hear."
"Bridge to captain Timoreev."
Timoreev sighed, before touching his combadge: "Timoreev here."
"Captain Bishop would be glad if you join him in his ready room."
Timoreev smiled: "Acknowledged. Tell the captain I'm on my way."
He turned back on Sumida: "Duty's calling. I suspect Sam wants to tempt me again with that whisky of him..."
Sumida smiled to him. Timoreev was almost going, when he turned back for a moment: "Ah, I was just forgetting: you earned a licence. If you wish, all your holodeck programs are safe."
Sumida shook her head: "Thank you, captain...but I don't think I need all of them anymore..."
Timoreev raised an eyebrow, then scrolled his shoulders, and moved out of the sickbay. Sumida closed her eyes again, ready to rest a little bit. No, she didn't need them anymore. She now understood many more things. She now knew what she wanted, and she felt herself ready to embark in that new journey. Where it would take her, she didn't know yet.
While walking through the corridors, reaching the nearest turbolift, Timoreev suddenly remembered that ancient poetry he was trying to decipher, before all the events in the Ankaran system. While the turbolift doors were closing in front of him, he automatically looked at his personal padd. He could still read his last attempt:
"Beauty is an illusion, it is the dream of time."
He stared at those words for a moment. As the last time, his thoughts went to Kanae. He shook his head, then he pressed a button, and they disappeared. Quickly, he wrote another line: "Beauty is not an illusion, it is the time we dream."
Far from perfect, but far better, he thought. He smiled, while the turbolift doors opened, showing him the Endeavour bridge.
In that precise moment, he sincerely hoped that Sam was going to offer him another sip from that bottle: it was definitely time to get some whisky.