“Probe is in the dock and set, sir,” said the Benzites nearly in unison as they stepped away from the closing aperture.

  “We know that they use both space folds and a version of warp technology,” said the captain in a tone somewhere between that of an Academy lecturer and someone passing along private information to a close friend. “We know that they use force and plasma fields in unusual ways.”

   “TOV is active,”said the computer. “ Cadet Zurin Dakal is operating.”

  “Our phasers, on maximum setting, could probably disrupt their ability to use a good deal of their energy manipulating technology, but the conditions here won’t let us initialize,” said Riker, now beside Dakal again. The pinpoint lights in the TOV’s translucent helmet created a bright halo around his head, giving Dakal an almost cherubic aspect. “What’s the solution?”

  “Quantum torpedo, sir?” said Roakn smartly.

  “Good thought, Lieutenant,” said the captain. “But, no. The alien ship is too close to Titan. A torpedo detonation would hurt us as well.”

  “What, then, sir?” Hsuuri asked.

  “The Orishans use energy fields the way we use metal and computer code,” said Riker. “When Dakal puts that probe in the center of the same space as the out-of-phase ship and tells it to project its quantum broadcast signal back to Titan, what do you think will happen to all their interlocking fields?”

  “Disruption,” said Peya Fell as the realization hit her.

  “Well done, Ensign Fell,” said Riker. “And correct.”

  “Sir,” said Dakal, then waited for Riker to turn his way. “You appear to know all these systems and you’re checked out on the TOV.”

  “The captain has to have a working knowledge of as much of the equipment on his ship as he can,” said Riker. “Are you trying to ask something, Cadet?”

  “Only that it seems as though it should be you in the TOV harness for this,” said Dakal. “Rather than me.”

  Riker was about to tell the young cadet that they all had their duties and that his rarely included joyrides when, before he could respond, Tuvok’s voice broke in over the comm system and made the point for him.

   “Captain Riker, report to the bridge immediately,”he said.

  “What is it, Tuvok?” said Riker already on the move. “Have our Orishan friends changed the game?”

   “It’sCharon, sir.”

  “You found her?” said Riker as the turbolift doors closed on his view of the sensor pod.

   “No, sir,”said Tuvok. “She found us.”

   “This is Bellatora Fortis, captain of theU.S.S. Charon,” said the woman on the screen. She was precisely as Riker remembered, with perhaps a little more meat on her and a little more edge to her demeanor. “We are in distress and requesting immediate aid from any vessel in the vicinity.”

  Behind her Riker could see a slice of a ship’s bridge, identical to his own. Charon’s tactical officer, an Orion by the green tint of his skin, was barking at two ensigns who then scurried off to follow his orders.

  Their computer had filtered the bulk of the alarm klaxons out of the message and drastically dampened the rest, but Riker knew a Yellow Alert when he saw one.

  “Answer her,” said Riker.

  “We have been trying, Captain,” said Tuvok. The distortion in this region…”

  “Is the Orishan vessel aware of them?”

  “No, sir,” said the Vulcan. “They seem entirely focused on destroying Titan.”

   “Catastrophic shield failure in one hour, fifty-five minutes,”said the computer. Though they weren’t ignoring it exactly, the computer voice counting off the time until their demise in five-minute intervals had quickly become little more than background noise.

  “What’s Charon’s location?” said Riker.

  “Local conditions prevent our getting an exact fix,” said Tuvok. “However, she appears to be in close proximity to the space once occupied by the planet Orisha.”

  Suddenly, as they watched, the image of Charon’s bridge flickered spasmodically, cycling through the color spectrum and spitting out a burst of static over the audio channel. When the image righted itself, things had changed on the other ship.

   Charonwas at Red Alert now, with emergency warnings screaming and flashing all around and her entire bridge suffused with the same scarlet glow.

  “Tuvok,” said Riker. “What the hell just happened?”

  “Unknown, sir,” said the Vulcan. “ Charonis close to the center of the flux effect. It is likely these conditions are more pronounced there.”

  Captain Fortis, unaware that she was still broadcasting, gave precise unemotional commands to her officers, commands Riker found distressingly familiar.

   “We’ll have to eject the core manually,”she said to someone unseen. “And send casualties to the auxiliary medical bay on deck five. Those systems are still up.”

   “Brace for another wave,”said the big Orion, and before anyone could react, it hit. As the bridge crew held on for dear life, several of the visible control stations exploded or went dark.

  Captain Fortis was knocked to the floor by the body of one of her officers who had been too slow to anchor herself. Casualty and damage reports flooded in, and Fortis fielded each one with an almost Vulcanesque resolve as she climbed to her feet.

  Riker felt his respect for her increase exponentially as he watched her calmly but firmly prod her people to keep focused, to do the necessary work to get the ship to safety.

   “I don’t care if you have to blow a hole in the bulkhead and shove it through, Matis,”she said to her very distressed chief engineer. “Get that warp core off my ship before-”

  She was cut off by another flickering of the screen, another cycling through the color spectrum. Riker wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear someone screaming under the static.

  It was horrible enough not being able to let Charonknow her sister vessel was close and could see her predicament if nothing else. Being forced to impotently sit and watch their distress was intolerable to Will Riker. His mind raced. There had to be something they could do to help.

  “Forget about talking to them,” he said, nearly coming out of his seat. “Narrow-cast Titan’s shield and code modifications directly to their main memory core.”

  “Attempting to comply, Captain,” said Tuvok. “Local flux conditions prevent-”

  “Deep water!” Lavena’s gasp cut off the rest of Tuvok’s complaint, and as the image on the screen resolved itself, the rest of the bridge crew knew why.

   Charon’s bridge was in a shambles, a destroyed mirror image of Titan’s own. The only illumination came from three monitor screens at the science and tactical stations behind the captain’s chair. The screens themselves displayed only fields of static. The dark silhouettes of the dead or comatose members of the bridge crew lay draped over consoles, slumped unnaturally in the turbolift entrance, or pinned beneath a piece of exploded equipment.

  For a moment nothing moved, and Riker began to suspect that the emergency broadcast had only been triggered by some barely active section of the ship’s dying computer system.

  Then, with an ugly, gurgling moan, Charon’s captain lurched into view, hauling herself back into her chair and fixing the viewer with her frosty blue gaze.

   “This is Captain Bellatora Fortis, of-”she stopped, the breath seemingly obstructed by something broken in her chest. “Of the Federation Starship Charon. We have encountered a-we don’t know what it is-a region of extreme temporal flux and randomized-”She coughed into her fist, and there was blood on her hand when she moved it away again. “My crew are mostly dead. Evacuation protocols were ineffective. Charon is being consumed, torn apart, by the conditions in this region. My science officer-”