Chapter 3 added on 11 July 2000
Disclaimers are in part 1.
Rating: R
"We've arrived," informed Paris, as the helm registered the coordinates.
"Slow to impulse, Mr. Paris," ordered Janeway.
Voyager dropped out of warp so the Engineering team could complete a long-overdue maintenance check. In the meantime, they could also survey the sector for any organic food to stock Neelix's supplies, and add to the Hydroponics Bay.
"Should I start scanning for class M planets in this sector?" asked Ensign Kim.
"Might as well," replied Janeway good-naturedly.
"I'll help," offered the Commander. Then he muttered, "Anything to relieve monotony."
Janeway glared at him in mock disapproval, but she had to admit, the past few weeks had been quite peaceful, moving from survey to the next. Most of the species they had come across were quite xenophobic, except for the occasional trader transport or two they ran into. They were informed, however, that on the edge of the next sector, there would be colonies and species open to trade, but they were also warned of the crime and hostility that often went with such commerce. Which is why the Captain chose to perform the overhaul now, rather than later.
Even now, reports from most of the divisions claimed that the majority of the maintenance repairs had been completed. But regardless, the senior staff elected to spend a day's worth effort into checking all systems.
Tuvok was performing his own scans of the region at his tactical console, when he noticed a few aberrant readings. Calmly, the manner which he always approached a problem, he analyzed the collecting data as it was displayed continuously.
"Captain, I am reading a small spatial distortion 25,000 km off our port bow," Tuvok notified.
Chakotay moved to confirm those readings from Harry's console as the ensign looked on. "He's right. I'm detecting a disturbance in the space-time continuum."
"I suggest we send a class 6 probe with Borg-adapted multi-phasic shielding," advised Tuvok.
"Do it. And Tom, hold our position," ordered Janeway, nodding in harmony with her words. If this was a singularity, it might prove to be an interesting astrological study. She wouldn't mind heading up such a project herself, being a competent scientist to boot.
Tom tapped in the orders, bringing Voyager to a dead stop. He focused the screen on the disturbance, subtly detecting, by his own eyes, the distorted light coming from various stars.
"The probe is ready," Tuvok declared.
"Launch the probe," commanded Chakotay.
"Aye, Commander."
But before the probe could reach the edges of the distortion and send back sensor readings, the distortion abruptly disappeared, and the science panels went silent without input to analyze. Everyone stared at the nondescript view on the screen, displaying no evidence that the singularity had existed.
"What happened?" demanded Janeway, walking back to her chair from where she stood at the conn overlooking Paris' shoulder, and took her seat.
"I'm not sure, Captain," replied Kim. "It looks like it was unstable, and must have collapsed."
"I want a full analysis, Chakotay-," Janeway began to command.
But she was interrupted when some sudden, unseen force struck the ship, knocking occupants almost out of their chairs, and tossing standing crewmembers against each other. The ship made terrible noises as if metal was being sheered, as it pitched again and again.
"Shields up! All decks, Red Alert!" bellowed Janeway over the clamor.
"Structural integrity down by 35% and dropping!" yelled out Kim.
"Shields are holding, but down by 25%," informed Tuvok.
"I want all power from non-essential systems re-routed to structural integrity and shields. Chakotay, report!" ordered Janeway.
"Captain!" Paris interjected back, "We're moving...."
Another lurch, projected him out of his seat, but he struggled back into his chair hand over hand, trying to regain control of the helm. He engaged impulse engines against the direction of the pull, but it made the deafening noise of crushing metal louder.
"I'm attempting to move away from whatever it is that's pulling us!"
"Could it be the distortion?!" asked Janeway.
"Captain, another singularity just appeared 24,000 km off our starboard bow!" yelled Chakotay.
"On screen!"
A whirling, gaping mouth of a wormhole appeared on the screen to the awe of those on the bridge, at least those that were conscious enough to admire it. There it sat, chewing up bits and pieces of the universe like a predator circling and drawing in its prey, silently and unaware of its own menace and brutality that such a phenomenon would possess.
Paris hollered over the noise, "It's pulling us in! We'll be caught in the event horizon!"
"Harry, where does it lead? Is it stable enough for us to cross?!" asked Chakotay.
"It looks like...." Beads of sweat dripped down the side of his face, as Kim tried to make sense of the data that poured over his panel screens. He responded, "It looks ike the wormhole's non-traversable, if I'm interpreting the data correctly. According to the theory of Einstein-Rosen bridges, it could collapse at any moment!"
"Good, isn't that what we want?!" exclaimed Paris.
"Not if we get sucked into it!" barked Chakotay, his impatience reflected in the harsh lines of his face.
"The gravimetric sheer is putting undue stress on the hull! At this rate, the ship will be crushed by the time it enters the wormhole," added Tuvok.
"Hull fractures on Decks 5 and 6, force-fields are in placed!" informed Kim.
"Try to evacuate those Decks!" ordered Chakotay.
"Warp engines are offline!" yelled Tom.
The ship rocked repeatedly as it was gradually dragged towards the event horizon, spiraling to the edge of the funnel out of control, while the crew clung onto any stationary object within their reach. The gravitational force of the singularity was enormous even though they were still a significant distance away. Disheveled from being whipped around, Captain Janeway gathered her wits while her crew went about their tasks, keeping the ship together.
"Mr. Paris, match the horizontal trajectory of the gravitational pull so we move with it, and engage impulse engines and thrusters against the vertical forces. That should push us out, if not buy us some time!" instructed Janeway.
~~~~~~~~
-Smack!-
B'Elanna swore she heard her scapula crack on the last impact as she and Seven were throw around the Jefferies tube like a couple of ragdolls. She had an easier time bracing herself against the bulkheads than Seven because of her shorter height. In addition, Seven had grabbed hold of their equipment with her Borg-enhanced hand, and had clasped it to her chest to keep it from flying freely and injuring either of them. The act cost the Borg probably a mild concussion from the way her head was swimming. The ship continued to jerk and pitch, trapping them both. They tumbled forward and backwards in the tube, depending on which direction forces were pushing at the moment, banging roughly into the panels and trimmings.
B'Elanna cursed up a storm in between grunting with each impact. Seven was taking a considerable beating, from where the lieutenant could see from behind, and B'Elanna realized she had to help her. When the next lurch came, B'Elanna propelled herself forward to cover the ex-drone. She reached around Seven, and grabbed hold of the grating between her fingers and braced her legs against the ledges, willing her body rigid. The rocking seemed to go on forever, and it was quickly draining the Klingon's strength.
"Seven," whispered B'Elanna through gritted teeth, as if to apologize before her fingers would give out. Seven heard her and tried to grip the ledge harder, easing some of her weight off the lieutenant.
~~~~~~~~
"Steady the helm, Mr. Paris," ordered Janeway.
The maneuvers had help stabilize the ship, but they continued to descend towards the mouth of the wormhole. Reports of injuries were coming in from all decks, and Sickbay was suddenly flooded with the wounded while the lurching had ceased for the moment. Engineering was also thrown into chaos as many of the staff had been scattered all over the ship for the maintenance repairs. Structural integrity was a main concern as gravimetric forces continued to tear the ship apart.
"Ideas, gentlemen, on how to get out of this?" asked Janeway. "I don't intend to ride it out."
'Cowabunga!' never left Paris' lips.
~~~~~~~~
Seven became aware of the warm body that spooned her own from behind when the pitching stopped. She could hear heavy breathing in her right ear, and felt the heaving bosom against her back, along with the quick beating of her own heart. B'Elanna sat up, slowly releasing her cramped fingers from the grating. They were sore and cold from the blood that left her grip minutes ago. It had not been the kind of rocking she pictured she'd be doing against a body like Seven's.
"Are you okay, Seven?" asked B'Elanna, in between breaths, examining the woman head to toe, noting the bruises and contusions, the usually brilliant blue eyes closed.
"Yes," she replied softly, resting a bit against the floor of the Jefferies tube to catch her bearings.
"I'm going to transport you to Sickbay. The Doctor needs to take at look at you."
"That won't be necessary. I am fully functional."
"I can't take care of you. I have to get to Engineering," B'Elanna answered back coldly, but with conflicting emotions running across her face.
"Then I will accompany you," the Borg responded stubbornly.
The Klingon let out deep breath and helped Seven upright. There was no point in arguing. The girl was going to learn the lesson on her own, even if that meant Seven had to fall flat on her face. B'Elanna led the way as they both crawled back out of the Jefferies tube.
To be continued....