Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide

by Kirsten Beyer

  Seven studied the scans quietly. She turned to the Doctor and said, “Thank you. This is most helpful. May I take these readings to engineering?”

  The Doctor was taken aback. He’d already violated Captain Eden’s privacy by sharing the scans with Seven.

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “I will not disseminate them haphazardly, I assure you,” Seven replied, sensing his consternation.

  “Then this is really . . .”

  “Omega, yes.” Seven nodded.

  The Doctor bowed his head as Cambridge shot off the biobed as though he’d suffered an electric shock.

  “It’s what?” he demanded.

  “I was already aware of the connection between Omega and the anomaly, Counselor,” Seven said. “The fact that, in some physical way, the Fleet Commander shares its nature can only aid us in our efforts.”

  “Our efforts to do what?” Cambridge practically shouted. “Our four ships are gone. What exactly are we trying to save now?”

  “The rest of the multiverse,” Seven replied evenly.

  Cambridge’s shoulders fell as he searched for the strength to rally.

  “To hell with it,” Cambridge decided. Kneeling before her and taking one of her hands in his, he said, “Seven of Nine, I would be honored if you would consider spending the rest of whatever life is left us with me in a very small space.”

  “How small?” Seven asked as if she were seriously considering the proposal.

  “The size of an escape pod,” Cambridge replied earnestly.

  Seven grasped his hand firmly and lifted him to his feet.

  “No,” she said.

  “Seven, I . . .” he began.

  “You have nothing to fear, Counselor,” she assured him. “We are working on a solution to close the anomaly once and for all. The research the Doctor has just provided me will be an invaluable asset. This is not the moment to run.”

  “If it were, would you even realize it?”

  “I believe so,” Seven said. “You know that I was briefly joined to the Caeliar gestalt. Their work with Omega vastly transcends ours. Although I did not retain every detail of their expertise, I’m quite comfortable with what I do know of the general principles. I can extrapolate from there a number of useful techniques to make what might seem impossible to you, quite possible.”

  Cambridge stared at her mutely.

  “Deep breath,” she encouraged him.

  He did as she commanded.

  “Go to Captain Eden. I’m certain she will have need of your counsel very soon.”

  Without another word, Seven turned and left. The Doctor stared open-mouthed at Cambridge, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

  “You and Seven?” he asked incredulously.

  Cambridge nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  • • •

  Kathryn Janeway’s head was spinning. Once she had shared Q’s darkness, she’d harbored no illusions that the challenges she had to surmount upon her return would be easy. But blow after successive blow since her arrival had left her near critical mass.

  Eden’s icy affirmative to her question had assured Kathryn that Eden would do whatever was required to halt the progress of the Omega Continuum. Kathryn had no idea that the Q’s sacrifice was needed as well, or how heavily Eden might weigh that factor.

  Turning back to Q, Kathryn said, “If Omega is really the threat to your people that it now appears to be, why haven’t they taken an interest until now? This could explain what’s been happening to your son, but all you’ve done since he first approached me is offer vague and empty threats. Isn’t this your battle, Q?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “and no.”

  Kathryn seriously considered punching him.

  “The rest of the Continuum are, even now, unaware of this threat.”

  “How is that possible?” Chakotay asked.

  “We all have our blind spots, Chuckles,” Q answered with evident regret. “Omega is the end. Finis. Game over. Full stop. If you were designing a multiverse to include a species of unlimited power, any force containing the necessary energy to destroy them would have to remain hidden from them. Otherwise, as you rightly imagine, the Q would have intervened long before now. Call it a hazard of omnipotence and eternal life. After a while, you assume there isn’t anything out there you can’t see. So you don’t bother looking for it.”

  “But you did,” Kathryn said.

  “Of course I did. My son was suffering. I made it my business to understand why.”

  “But you didn’t help him?”

  “I am helping him,” Q thundered.

  “All right,” Kathryn said more gently. “Calm down.” When he had obliged her with a nod, the admiral said, “Should I assume you have come here with a solution that does not include the destruction of the Q but will effectively end the threat to the larger multiverse?”

  “Of course.”

  Kathryn sighed in relief.

  “What is it?”

  “Obviously, she must die,” Q said, pointing a finger at Eden.

  Chakotay stepped automatically between Q and Eden.

  “Unacceptable,” Kathryn replied emphatically.

  “She shouldn’t be here, Kathy,” Q said, unable to comprehend her reaction. “She’s only lived this long because, like the Omega Continuum, she was effectively hidden from me, until I received confirmation of her existence from another source.”

  “But she is here,” Kathryn replied, unmoved. “And as best I understand it, her death outside the Omega Continuum won’t solve anything,”

  “Let’s find out,” Q tossed back lightly.

  Seething internally, Kathryn said evenly, “I need a moment with Captain Eden, alone.”

  “Oh, I’d be more than happy to jot down any last words,” Q offered.

  The admiral lifted her eyes to Q’s, and something in the force of her gaze caused him to flinch.

  “A moment, then,” Q agreed, and snapped his fingers.

  Nothing happened.

  “No games, Q, not now,” Kathryn said.

  He snapped his fingers again, and again, and again. Nothing happened.

  Finally, a look of fear, mingled with loathing, fell across Q’s face.

  “What have you done?” he demanded of Eden.

  In response, Afsarah Eden held up her right hand and brushed her thumb lightly against her fingers. A bright white light blossomed between them and remained fixed there as Eden said, “What was once yours is now mine. As it should be. Omega is rising, and it will take what it requires, what you know very well you should never have had in the first place. The balance must be restored.”

  Very softly, Kathryn asked, “Captain?”

  Eden dropped her hand, extinguishing the luminescent display.

  “How dare—” Q began.

  “Q!”

  “What?” Q asked, seemingly more insulted by the interruption than the theft of his powers.

  Motioning to the chair beside the room’s workstation, Kathryn said, “Take a seat and be quiet.”

  “I—”

  “Take a seat and be quiet,” she repeated.

  Q looked for a moment between Kathryn, Chakotay, and Eden, and finally, perhaps motivated by his quite vulnerable state, did as she had ordered.

  Turning back to Eden, Kathryn said, “Obviously, I would never have allowed him to harm you. But I’m also not going to stand here and watch you commit genocide.”

  “Admiral,” Chakotay began.

  “Is there another word for it?” Kathryn demanded. “Why must the Q be destroyed?”

  Though Eden’s face had betrayed pleasure in bringing down a Q, as she answered the admiral’s question her voice was filled with remorse. “The Q, as you have come to know them, should not exist, just as I should not exist. The breach created by the Anschlasom did more than damage the Omega Continuum. It simultaneously, from the dawn of time, breached Omega’s counterbalance. The Q Continuum was granted access to norm
al space-time. When given rein as your multiverse expanded, the Q Continuum became sentient, and developed into the species you now know as the Q. But this would never have happened had Omega not been damaged. Both forces should have remained potential powers throughout the life of this multiverse. They would have held each other in check, the creative slowly fading as the destructive began to expand. No sentient being existing between them should ever have been cognizant of nor directly affected by either until the end of time. I was brought into existence in this reality by Omega in order to correct the imbalance that exists because of the Q’s presence here. This is the multiverse’s way of correcting the error. It cannot be helped, nor can it be changed.”

  “But it must be,” Kathryn argued. “Yes, you are Omega, but you are also human. You’ve had over fifty years to live among us. You’ve dedicated your life to Starfleet’s ideals and upheld its principles. You must have come to cherish all life, even annoying omnipotent life. Can you truly accept the thought of becoming an agent—no, a weapon—of mass destruction?”

  Eden looked to Chakotay, silently pleading for compassion and understanding.

  Chakotay moved slowly toward her. “You know more than our ideals and principles, Afsarah. You know love—what you feel for Tallar and Jobin, what you felt when Planck was lost, and her sister ships. Surely you know that this is not the way.”

  Finally her control broke as Eden struggled with the pure emotional response. “Of course, I do,” she cried. “It’s horrifying to think that I could, that I must do this. But I honestly don’t know how to stop it.”

  A door chime broke the tense silence following her words. Every fragment of her being urged her to yell, Go away, but Kathryn knew that no one would be intruding right now without good cause.

  “Come in,” she called, and the door slid open to allow Counselor Cambridge to enter.

  Clearly taking the room’s temperature, Cambridge paused, looked at Q, and asked, “So, is this a bad time?”

  “What is it, Counselor?” Chakotay demanded.

  “Commander Torres and Seven believe they have come up with a solution to our situation. They’ve asked that you convene for a briefing in Holodeck One. It will require that Lieutenants Conlon and Patel be made aware of the admiral’s presence, unless, of course, she’d like to remain here and keep our newest guest company?”

  Kathryn turned to Q. “I think you should come too.”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely,” Q replied as he rose from his chair.

  • • •

  Tom Paris watched as Conlon and Patel resumed their work. He was surprised at how easily they had accepted the news that Admiral Janeway had been returned from the dead by the Q Continuum and would be joining them for the briefing. Conlon had said matter-of-factly, “Well, of course, it’s Voyager,” and had returned to running ODN cables.

  Tom then moved to stand beside Kim and the Doctor outside the center of the holodeck. A simulation of the anomaly had been created to facilitate Seven and B’Elanna’s presentation. Thankfully, they were using only a portion of the holodeck to create their display, so the black walls were still crisscrossed at regular intervals by bright orange lines. As the presentation took place in the void surrounding the anomaly, and what they now understood to exist within it, someone had been thoughtful enough not to create the illusion that they were floating in space.

  Lieutenant Conlon, who had never met the admiral, seemed to be doing much better. Devi Patel, who had met Janeway during Voyager’s detour to rescue Tom’s daughter from the Klingon cult who had kidnapped her, was unsettled, but remained composed. Tom did note that as the admiral entered—accompanied by Captains Eden and Chakotay, and Counselor Cambridge—Patel’s face paled.

  Tom’s followed suit when Q entered the holodeck on Cambridge’s heels. Kim instinctively reached for his sidearm, and Tom waited for the requisite sneer and the snapped fingers in response. Instead, Q meekly followed Janeway’s orders, moving to stand well clear of the rest of the group. Tom placed a firm hand on Kim’s arm and, in a shared glance, ordered him to stand down.

  For a few moments, Seven and B’Elanna conferred quietly with Captain Eden. Although she answered them amiably, Tom didn’t believe he had ever seen the fleet commander looking so solemn or so deeply wounded.

  Finally, Eden stepped back to stand with Admiral Janeway.

  “As many of you know by now,” Seven began, “the continuum intersecting normal space at our present location contains a pure Omega molecule.”

  Tom’s stomach lurched violently at the revelation. Kim immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

  “A, as in singular?” Chakotay asked.

  “Yes.” Seven nodded. “All of the Omega molecules Starfleet has studied or come upon, and the Omega molecules stabilized by the Caeliar, were synthetic versions of Omega. They were extremely powerful, but they did not approach the destructive capability of pure Omega. They are, however, similar in structure. Each synthetic Omega molecule consists of infinite particles that, once stabilized, assume a flawless lattice structure.” The holodisplay behind Seven flickered to life, showing countless luminescent particles floating free in a void, then coalescing into a complex and quite beautiful spherical form. “Once stabilized, these molecules are capable of releasing near infinite power, but the energy required to maintain their stability is likewise massive, and ultimately prevents synthetic Omega from becoming a perpetual and self-sustaining power source. Should a stabilized Omega molecule lose its cohesion, it instantaneously releases all of its energy at once, destroying space and subspace.”

  “Among other things,” Q interjected.

  “Quite possibly,” Seven agreed. Janeway silenced Q with a glare.

  “Thanks to Commander Torres’s efforts just prior to Quirinal’s destruction, we have been given our first glimpse of the pure Omega particles within the Omega Continuum.”

  Tom met B’Elanna’s eyes briefly, and she smiled at him. The image on the holodisplay morphed into the anomaly, where a dazzling array of bright white filaments moved freely through the darkness and B’Elanna picked up where Seven had left off.

  “Our theory, which has been confirmed by Captain Eden, is that the infinite particles of pure Omega contained within the Omega Continuum work naturally, over an incredibly long period of time, to find perfect stability. The moment that order is achieved, Omega’s power will be released, destroying whatever is left of the multiverse.”

  “And likely giving rise to the birth of a new one,” Patel noted.

  “Correct,” B’Elanna agreed, “but given the complexity of pure Omega, the process of stabilizing even one molecule should take trillions of years.”

  “Then how come everything that enters the anomaly is destroyed?” Kim piped up.

  “It isn’t,” B’Elanna replied. “That’s one of the issues we’ve had to resolve.” She added, “I’m not saying we know exactly how things work in there, but the evidence suggests that crossing the barrier into the Omega Continuum does not immediately result in destruction. From our side, anything that enters the anomaly appears to have never existed, although, obviously, it does. As best we can tell, Jobin’s vessel is trapped in a portion of the anomaly that exists in the Beta Quadrant, and it remains intact after almost forty years. Further, the Anschlasom managed to travel all the way through it.”

  “Then why didn’t our ships?” Kim asked.

  “I can only assume it’s because their technology was a great deal more powerful than ours,” B’Elanna said with a shrug.

  “What is relevant here is that the destruction of our ships had to be a result of actions taken by our people,” Seven said. “Their decision was likely based on information at their disposal, which we can only guess at.”

  “If I may?” Q asked.

  Stunned, Seven nodded her assent.

  “Nothing can be destroyed upon entry into Omega that does not add to its power. But any matter or energy that crosses the barrier, and the Continuum
’s continued exposure to normal space-time through these ruptures, exponentially increases Omega’s rate of stabilization, thereby hastening the de stabilization of any adjacent realm; in this case, the fabric of space-time in this particular universe.”

  “What happens to the matter and energy that enters the Omega Continuum?” Patel hazarded.

  “Do you care about the ships?” Q asked. “Or is your concern primarily for the individuals?”

  “We know that every life-form who has successfully passed through Omega has returned with its own version of the experience,” Seven said. “It seems likely all individuals frame the experience in a manner they can understand.”

  “Much as they would a visit to the Q Continuum,” Q noted with a pointed glance at Janeway.

  “Unless they are driven insane by it,” Cambridge added.

  “The point here,” Janeway said, “seems to be that as long as this pure Omega molecule is not yet stabilized, technology and individuals can enter the Continuum and survive.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Seven replied. “And that will be key to our efforts.”

  “Our problem,” B’Elanna picked up the explanation, “is that every breach of the Omega Continuum, beginning thousands of years ago with the Anschlasom, has hastened Omega’s rate of stabilization. If left on its own now, we believe it is days away from reaching perfection, and thereby destroying everything. In order to prevent that, we must seal every single breach that exists simultaneously.”

  “How many are there?” Tom asked.

  “The scans we were able to complete before the Quirinal was destroyed showed six definite breaches, but there are likely more,” Seven replied. “We were only beginning the process, when we lost access to the scanners that were close enough to the barrier to complete the operation.”

  “There are thousands,” Eden said softly.

  “That’s what I expected,” Seven said.

  “Does it matter?” Conlon asked.

  “No,” Seven went on. “Our task is to interfere with Omega’s natural progression of stabilization, to force it back, as close as possible, to the state it would have been at had it never been breached.”