Chapter Sixteen: Changing Currents

 As the runabout hurtled through space toward the wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant, Alinn Song couldn't help but brush the surface thoughts in her Captain's mind. He didn't so much have a "plan" in the traditional sense of the word, but he did have the formation of an idea, though it was an idea that made little to no sense to the young Betazoid.

She was, of course, familiar with the records of the wormhole aliens. The Bajorans called them "Prophets" and worshipped them as gods. Song didn't. of course, but she wouldn't discount the existence of gods, in general. One thing she did come to believe in, quite recently, in fact, was the devil.

She couldn't understand why she was able to hear Moriarty's thoughts. He was an artificial life form, and that's only if one wanted to be generous in one's description. There was no organic component to his mind, yet, the moment before the Pendragon opened fire on her own wing of Kestrels, the sheer, overwhelming wave of rage and hatred slammed into every neuron in Song's brain. So much anger... it caused physical pain... enough that she nearly fainted. 

After the attack, the thoughts became clear. This Moriarty was angry, yes, but more than that, he was the personification of amorality. After he murdered those pilots, he had no more remorse than if he'd knocked over a glass of water. Worse, it was almost as though he enjoyed it. 

The Captain's mind, though, was very different. He was angry, too, of course. He'd lost good people to the whims of this devil. This anger, though, drove him toward finding justice for those victims, however he could.

"We're about ten minutes from the event horizon, Captain," Song reported.

"Good, When the wormhole opens, fire the probe through. We will follow it. The message should reach DS9 within an hour. Once we're in the passage, Lieutenant, come to a full stop."

"I don't know what you're hoping to accomplish, Captain," Omehrtiis said, her voice equal parts curious and concerned.

"When we came through the first time, I had that vision. Someone was trying to contact me... to tell me... something. I think the wormhole aliens were trying to warn me about Moriarty. Apparently they are telepathic and don't have a linear temporal existence. I'm hoping your experience, Counsellor, and your telepathic abilities, Lieutenant, might help make our situation make sense to them and possibly get some help from them... information... something."

Omehrtiis nodded slightly, knowing the Captain meant more than simply her "experience".

In front of the Maelstrom, out of the blackness, bright blue-white began to swirl and bloom like some kind of cosmic flower as the maw of the wormhole opened. Song tapped the firing control and the message probe streaked out into the shining abyss.

"Message probe away, Captain. Two minutes to event horizon."

"Good. Here's hoping they know it's not an attack, "D'arko said. Song wasn't sure if he meant the crew of Deep Space Nine or the worm hole aliens. It didn't matter, she supposed. 

Two minutes later, the Maelstrom crossed the border into the other-dimensional space of the wormhole. Pulsing blue orbs of light streaked by in a beautiful, if terrifying miasma of illuminated symphonic chaos.

"All stop!" Captain D'arko commanded.

The runabout slowed and stopped amid the dancing river of light and sound.

Alinn Song was in some kind of laboratory or hospital room. A young woman was on an examination table, strapped down and struggling. A door on the other side of the room slid open. From the dark of the exterior, someone stepped in. 

It was the Captain.

But...

Not the Captain.

The face was the same. Dark blue skin, silver-white goatee, long, neatly tied white hair... His eyes, though, were different. They flashed with an intense cruelty. They held Song's attention for a moment, distracting her from his forehead.

Where Captain D'arko had his Andorian antennae, this man had two, closely-cropped stumps, as though he was meant to have antennae like the Captain, but kept them cut off. He wore a uniform like the Captain's, but the tunic was more of a vest and, where the combadge should be, he wore an insignia that looked like a planet with a sword driven through it.

The doppleganger of the Captain approached the young woman on the table, a ghoulish smile growing on his lips as he produced a small device from a pocket in his vest and pressed it against her neck. A sharp crackling sound came from the device and the woman released a soul-piercing shriek of pain.

Song tried to cry out and get this faux Captain to stop this torture, but she couldn't. No sound would come. Silently, tears of terror began to stream from her dark eyes.

In a flash, everything changed and Song found herself in a dimly lit room full of small dining tables. Soft Earth jazz filled the air. At one table. the Captain sat.This time, it was clearly Captain D'arko. He seemed as confused as she was. She walked toward him.

And was shocked when someone walked right through her from behind.

She recognized the person from the earlier briefing. It was Captain Benjamin Sisko. 

He turned and waved her to come with him and they both joined Captain D'arko.

"Which one are you?" Sisko asked D'arko.

"I don't understand."

"You aren't both here this time, are you?"

"Yes," Song said, "We're both..."

"Not you! Him. Duth."

D'arko stood, angrily.

"I said not you!"

Blinding white light filled their eyes.

When it cleared, they were again in the cockpit of the Maelstrom, careening away from the closing wormhole.

At the science station, Omehrtiis sat, quietly weeping.