by Judith
know how willful Klingons can be."
T'len's chin lifted, and she turned again to face Worf. She was backed against a
central engineering table that flickered with constantly updating engineering
drawings of the Phoenix. "Commander, I am not your enemy."
"If you do not tell me the fate of the Klingon Empire in this time period, then
I have no choice but to conclude you are somehow responsible for the
destruction of the Empire. That makes you my enemy, and deserving of death."
In what Jadzia could only consider a Vulcan's last-ditch retreat into pure
desperation, T'len thrust her hand forward in an attempt to give Worf a nerve
pinch.
As Jadzia knew he would, Worf caught the Vulcan's hand before it had traveled
more than half the distance to bis shoulder. Then he began to squeeze it. Hard.
"You have attacked me," Worf announced in stentorian tones. "I am now justified
hi defending myself." At the same time, he began to bend T'len's hand backward.
"I order you to release me!" T'len said.
Worf was implacable. He continued without pause. "I do not recognize your right
to order me. In my time, the Empire and the Federation were allies. Since you do
not support the Empire, to me that makes you an enemy of die Federation. Either
explain to me why and how conditions have changed, or prepare to take passage
on the Barge of the Dead."
Jadzia could see T'len beginning to tremble in her effort to resist Worf's grip
and to control the discomfort she must be feeling in her stressed wrist and
hand.
"Vulcans do not believe in Klingon superstition," the captain said, her voice
wavering despite her attempts to keep it steady.
"It will not remain a superstition for long," Worf said grimly. "In less than a
minute, I guarantee you will have firsthand knowledge."
T'len raised her other hand to try to slap her communicator. But Worf caught
that hand, too.
Jadzia judged the time was right. She stepped forward. "Captain, you know we
want to help the cause. Isn't it logical that you provide us with the same
information that inspires you to fight?"
"This is not your concern," Worf snapped at her, exactly as Jadzia had
suggested he do. "The Trill homeworld is still within the Federation. But for
all the information Starfleet is willing to give me"—he bent down until his
fangs and glaring eyes were only a centimeter from T'len's tense features—"the
Empire might as well have been destroyed."
"It was!" T'len suddenly exclaimed. "There! Does that satisfy you?!"
Jadzia could see the surprise in Worf's face. Almost as an afterthought he
released the Vulcan's hand, and she immediately hugged it to her chest, rubbing
at her wrist
"Why could you not tell me at the beginning?" Worf said accusingly. "Just as you
told the humans about the destruction of the Earth."
"Because the Earth was destroyed by the Grigari," T'len said sharply and, Vulcan
or not, the bitterness in her was clearly evident. "But the Empire destroyed
itself."
At once Jadzia moved to Worf's side then, to keep him grounded in this moment,
to prevent his descent into the full rage of battle at T'len's revelation. She
put her hands on his arm and his back.
"You—will—tell—me—how." Through the touch that connected them Jadzia felt the
visceral struggle each word cost her mate.
T'len's answer was slow in coming. "Project Looking Glass," she said with a
wary look at Worf and Jadzia. "The Klingons were so proud of it. While the
Federation fought a holding battle against the Ascendancy, the Empire was to
prepare a safe haven from the destruction of the universe."
Jadzia stroked her mate's back to calm him. "Isn't that a contradiction in
terms?" she asked.
"Not if the safe haven is another universe," T'len said.
As quickly as that, Jadzia understood. "Looking Glass," she said, stepping away
from Worf.
Because Worf understood, as well. "The Mirror Universe."
T'len nodded, and Jadzia relaxed, detecting the sub-tie change in the Vulcan
captain's stance in response to Worf's more measured tones.
"In that universe," T'len added with greater assurance, as she sensed that Worf
would not respond physically to her unwelcome information, "the
Klingon-Cardassian Alliance was in disarray and easy to overcome once the Prime
Directive was suspended. The total population was much lower. There were
sufficient worlds in which to create new colonies. And the best physicists
concluded that the destruction of our own universe would have no effect on the
Mirror Universe.
It appears that the Prophets—or the wormhole aliens of Jalbador—don't seem to
exist there."
Jadzia knew Worf would not accept T'len's characterization of Klingons, no
matter which universe they existed in. And he did not. "It is not like my people
to plan for defeat," Worf growled.
T'len promptly deflected his objection. "That was just a contingency plan,
Commander. The original intention was to send a Klingon fleet into the Mirror
Universe, fight its way to Bajor, then reappear in our universe behind the
Ascendancy's lines."
Worf grunted approvingly. "A worthy deception. It sounds like the work of
General Martok."
"Chancellor Martok," T'len corrected. "And it was his plan."
Jadzia could see from the way Worf's eyes flashed that he already knew how the
plan had ended.
"How did it fail?" he asked.
The hesitant manner in which T'len answered suggested to Jadzia that the plan's
outcome still baffled the Vulcan captain. "I assure you, Commander Worf, the
first exploratory and reconnaissance missions were flawless. Every replicator in
the Empire and most of those throughout the Federation were requisitioned to
create transporter pads, to transfer goods and warriors to the other side. That
effort alone took two years. We still haven't replaced all the replicators we
expended. But in time our forces were ready."
T'len's eyes lost their focus and became opaque, as she relived the moment "The
fleet—the Armada— moved out from the Empire in the Mirror Universe, heading for
Bajor, while at the same time in our universe, to counter any suspicions, Earth
entered into
trade and treaty negotiations with the Grigari. But the Grigari fleet attacked
Earth without warning, and with so many ships committed to Looking Glass—which
we were certain had not been detected by the Ascendancy—there were no
reinforcements to save that world."
T'len's eyes cleared, and she looked squarely at Worf. "When word reached the
Mirror Universe that the Grigari had attacked here before the Klingons could
attack there, the Feet turned around to come to Earth's defense. And when it was
in that state of confusion as its mission changed, a second Grigari fleet
attacked there as well."
Jadzia took an involuntary step forward, then stopped herself as Worf's head
bowed in sorrow.
"But how... how could the defeat of the Armada lose the Empire?" he asked T'len.
"All those transporters," T'len said quietly. "They had been used to send un
told
trillions of tonnes of supplies and equipment between the universes. Enormous
complexes of mem were on all the major worlds of the Empire."
"And the Grigari—" T'len paused for a moment before continuing. At that moment,
Jadzia realized that in her way the Vulcan captain was trying to be kind to
Worf, as she succinctly completed her account with little elaboration of the
devastating consequences of the plan's failure.
"The Grigari used those same transporters to move weapons from the Mirror
Universe into ours, weapons which detonated in place and tore apart worlds,
rendered atmospheres unbreathable and collapsed entire ecosystems.
"The end result... was that we learned that the Gri-
gari had known exactly what we had planned and had prepared a perfect series of
countermoves against us. According to our best estimates," T'len concluded,
"there are slightly more than one million Klingons left alive in this quadrant."
Worf's broad chest heaved, and if not for the presence of the Vulcan Jadzia
would have reached out and drawn him close to her, to share his terrible grief.
When he finally spoke, Worf's voice was low but steady. "Why would you not tell
me this before?"
"Because Starfleet needs every warrior who can serve. And that includes you,
Commander. Also"— Jadzia felt T'len's gaze upon her—"we were concerned that
if... when you found out about the fate of your Empire, you would do what so
many other Klingons have done—go off on a suicidal mission to assuage survivor
guilt and die in battle. Or that you would attempt to accomplish some great
victory, in order to ensure that a relative lost in the destruction of the
Armada might find a place in Sto-Vo-Kor."
The sounds of Worf's deep breathing intensified, but he did not respond further.
"What will you do, Commander?" T'len asked. "Abandon Starfleet? Abandon the
Phoenix? Go off and die in glorious battle?"
Jadzia held her breath. This time, not even she knew what Worf's answer would
be.
It seemed forever to her before her mate again spoke. "How did Chancellor Martok
die?"
"He was with the fleet," T'len said simply, "on the flagship The Heart of
Kahless. But they were wiped out to the last warrior. I do not know precisely
how he died."
"He died with honor," Worf growled fiercely in what
Jadzia knew was a challenge. "Of that you can be certain."
Jadzia tensed. The Vulcan captain stared up at Worf for a moment before making
her decision. "I am," the Vulcan said.
Worf nodded once, then said, "I am a Starfleet officer. I see no conflict in
fulfilling that duty and behaving honorably as a Klingon warrior. But you must
no longer keep secrets from me, or from any of us. Either we are your fellow
warriors and your equals, or we will leave you to fight on our own. Is that
understood?"
"Yes," T'len said.
Jadzia had a question of her own for T'len. "Why are there so few humans left?"
Once again, T'len's voice betrayed an un-Vulcan-like emotional turmoil, but now
Jadzia was realizing that more than just institutions had changed in this time.
So had the people. She would have to remember that, and not depend on perhaps
irrelevant assumptions derived from centuries of experience in other times. The
knowledge gave her an odd feeling of freedom from the past lives she
remembered. Whatever she and the others faced in this time would require her to
make observations uniquely her own.
"The Klingon colony worlds," T'len explained, "were used to create the Armada in
the Mirror Universe. In contrast, human colony worlds were used to establish
emergency communities, survival camps really ... in case Starfleet and the
Empire were not successful in stopping the Ascendancy. And the same type of
transporter facilities were installed everywhere from Alpha Centauri to Deneva.
At sixty percent efficiency, with the facilities we established on fifty colony
worlds, we would have had the capacity to transfer up to thirty million people a
day into the Mirror Universe. In these past five years, we might have
saved—evacuated—almost sixty billion people."
The Trill understood at least one reason for the Vulcan captain's distress.
Sixty billion was a vast number, yet it would only have accounted for slightly
less than ten percent of the total population of the Federation. And factoring
in the populations of the nonaligned systems and all the other beings who must
exist elsewhere in the galaxy and throughout the universe, sixty billion was as
inconsequential as a raindrop in an ocean.
But there was another possible reason.
"The Grigari used those transporters too, didn't they?" Jadzia asked.
"Nanospores," T'len said with distaste. "Nanites, which exist only to
disassemble living cells to make other nanites, which then spread to other
life-forms and begin the process again. They can't be screened through
biofilters. There are no drugs to which they will respond. Neither are they
affected by extremes of temperature. Whole populations were... were dissolved.
Entire worlds stripped of their biospheres. And Starfleet had to maintain
quarantines around all of mem, to incinerate any ship that attempted to leave."
T'len's dark eyes bore into Jadzia's. "Do you really want to know more ? "
Jadzia touched Worf's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Felt no response in
return. "Not now," she said. "I mink we need to be alone for a while."
"We tour the Phoenix at 0800 hours tomorrow morning," T'len said, by way of
agreement
Jadzia nodded. T'len sighed as she gave a last rub to her strained wrist, then
left the planning room.
As soon as the Vulcan captain had moved through the doorway and out of earshot,
Worf turned to Jadzia, looked down at her. "This future cannot be permitted to
happen," he said.
"But it already has, Worf."
Worf shook his head angrily. "We are still connected to our past. To our
present. We must go back somehow and prevent this."
It was unfortunate, Jadzia thought, that the direct Klingon approach was not
always the best—not even in this time, she would wager. And it was always so
difficult to explain that to her mate. She put both hands on Worf's shoulders.
"Worf, the only way we can go back to our present is by retracing our slingshot
trajectory around the red wormhole, and that wormhole is in the middle of the
Bajoran system. There's nothing Starfleet can do to get anywhere near it. We
have to accept that there's nothing more we can do to change the past. But with
the Phoenix, we do have a chance to change the future."
"I refuse to accept that."
Jadzia made a playful fist and lightly tapped her knuckles against Worf's heavy
brow ridges. "Just as I thought," she said. "No evidence of brain matter. Solid
bone throughout."
Her mate glared at her. 'This is not the time for levity! The universe is
trapped in a nightmare and we are the only ones who can restore it!"
"I agree," Jadzia said, drawing her fingers along Worf's cheek. "But what do I
always tell you when you make such grand and glorious plans?"
>
Jadzia hid her smile as Worf's bluster became uncertain.
'1... do not remember," he said.
Jadzia didn't believe that for an instant. "We can do anything that we choose to
do... say it...."
Worf grimaced, as if he knew there was no escape mis time. And this time, Jadzia
thought, she would see that there wasn't.
"We can do anything that we choose to do," he repeated without conviction. m
"Very good," Jadzia said, as she lowered her hand to caress his broad chest.
"But sometimes, we do not have to choose to do it now."
She looked up at Worf, knowing what it was they both must do to prepare for the
battle ahead, just as the first Klingon male and female had done before they had
stormed heaven and destroyed the gods who had created them.
"The Empire must be avenged," Worf said.
"I know," Jadzia agreed. "But first we must prepare for battle."
Worf nodded his assent, placed both powerful hands on her arms.
"Computer," Jadzia said clearly, "seal the planning office door. Security
request gamma five." She smiled at Worf, glad she had reviewed the security
manuals for the shipyards.
Something clicked inside the door, and the security condition light changed from
amber to red.
Right at that instant, Worf leaned down and kissed her, his full embrace of her
powerful, charged with the emotion of the moment and not tempered by concerns
that had gone before or would be faced in the future.
But that was Worf's way, not hers. There was still something mat troubled
Jadzia. She pulled back from him, but did not look away.
"What?" Worf asked roughly, his voice thick with passion.
"Something Captain T'len said. About... getting into Sto-Vo-Kor."
Worf threw back his head proudly. "An easy matter. I have eaten the heart of an
enemy."
"There's more to it than that."
"Of course. A warrior must die hi glorious battle."
"But T'len said that some Klingons were trying to fight to get their relatives
into Sto-Vo-Kor."
Worf sobered, became thoughtful. "There are many qualities a warrior must
possess. Among them is the ability to inspire great actions in the hearts of
others. So, if a great warrior does not fall in battle, he is not necessarily
denied the reward of Sto-Vo-Kor. If those who know him dedicate their own great
battle to him, men there will be a place for the fallen among the honored dead."