//------------------------------// // Human Spirit // Story: Worlds Apart: The Chosen of the Prognosticus // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// The Enterprise sat in darkness. Above, endless black. Below, endless ocean. They had tried diving and flying away, but they got nowhere. Unlike the edge of the world, where they gained physical distance from Narnia, moving away from the ocean’s surface only went so far. The surface of the water was never more than a quarter kilometer above or below them. Moving parallel to the waves gave no indication of actual movement: the water was featureless and did not contain any lifeforms or vary in salinity content. Probes vanished never to be found again when pushed beyond the range of their sensors. And, perhaps worst of all, when they put out a cable filled with probes, the electrical signals within the wire could not reach the Enterprise. When they reeled the line back in, the probes reported nothing unusual aside from the fact that they couldn’t communicate with each other or the Enterprise. They had eventually scrounged up enough material to make a multi-kilometer-long cable and flew in a circle. When they should have flown back over the spot they started, the cable was no longer there. But they could reel it back just fine, and according to the location data the probes should have been there. It was clear space was non-euclidean in the darkness, but that didn’t help them. And it was at that point the screams started. “Report,” Picard said, forcefully grabbing the arm resting on his chair in the ready room. “The fog has absolutely no effect on internal systems,” LaForge said, nervously picking at his visor. “Everything is running at perfect efficiency. Even at full power consumption, it’s possible we can keep running indefinitely with the Master Emerald, since it never seems to deplete.” “The crew?” Picard asked. Doctor Crusher stopped nervously tugging at her hair. “I’m… sure you’ve noticed at this point, but everyone is… afraid.” “And more so than usual,” Riker said, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’s not natural,” Crusher agreed. “All of us are afraid, deeply afraid, of… of nothing. It’s not the fact that we’re trapped, at least not… all of it.” She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself—it did not appear as though she succeeded, but she forged on anyway. “It is as if this darkness is fear. It’s permeating all of us. Even those who are sleeping… they’re afraid. Some have started hearing noises, and voices of people they were sure were dead.” “But the sensors have picked up nothing actually manifesting?” Picard asked. Riker nodded, absent-mindedly tugging at his collar. “There is… nothing shown on scans. The only oddity is our minds and that darkness out there.” “And Counselor Troi?” “Still in a coma,” Crusher said. “If I had to guess… it’s that she can’t handle feeling the fear from everything around her. So her mind just shut down.” “Can she recover?” “I believe so. We just have to… get out of here before I can do anything for her.” LaForge sighed. “Which we can’t do.” “We are not stuck yet,” Picard said, leaning forward. “We just need to think of alternatives.” Riker nodded. “That map of Caspian’s does have an island of dark nightmares recorded on it.” “I am aware, but it also says it was destroyed.” “By Aslan.” “Yes… but that does not rule out the possibility there was more than one type of darkness.” Picard scratched his arm. “This could be some malevolent entity who wishes to see us crumble. It is also possible this is some kind of test, to either prove our mettle or force us to admit our faults.” “If that’s the case, what do we do?” Worf asked. Picard sat back. “We live our lives as best we can, each performing our duties. As we always do in these sorts of situations.” “That’ll take too long.” “I doubt impatience will speed up the process.” Worf took in a sharp, aggressive breath, but said nothing. “In that case, everyone, return to your posts. Look for alternative solutions, but perform your duties as normal.” He took a moment to adjust his uniform. “Including recreation time. Dismissed.” ~~~ Tails was working on improving the warp core power relay when he first heard it. The snap of a major wire short-circuiting. The panic that went through his system was so much he forgot he was sticking his head in a narrow access port and bumped his head on the ceiling, giving him a major headache. “C-computer!” Tails sputtered, holding his head. “L-locate the source of that sound.” “No unusual sound identified,” the computer said. “Please specify.” “The short circuit!” “No short circuits have been detected in the last minute.” “I…” Tails pupils dilated. “Right, right… nothing.” Snap. “Did you hear anything that time?” Tails asked. “Negative.” “Of course…” Tails rubbed his head. “Just the darkness… Just the darkness…” Snap. “Just the darkness…” Female screams. The smell of burning leaves. Snap. “Just the darkness.” He pulled out a glowing blue tool, rerouting the final exposed wire. You know exactly what you did. Closing the panel, he took a deep breath and walked toward the Master Emerald. LaForge was eating a wrap for lunch while Knuckles sat on top of the powerful relic. “I’m hearing things,” Tails said, sitting on the ground. “I got it rerouted, but I—” Snap. Your design had a fatal flaw, now everyone’s dead. He shuddered. “—I’m not sure I can do any more right now.” “That’s fine,” LaForge said. “We’re good down here. And, to be honest, I’ve been hearing things too. Might even have seen a few unusual things.” He tapped his visor. “Spooky scary skeletons.” “I’m hearing things go wrong. Things I designed. Things I needed to design better.” Tails realized his hands were shaking. “Heh…” “Hey,” LaForge said, leaning down and laying a hand on Tails’ shoulder. “It’ll be fine. It’s not real. Your work isn’t going to explode.” Snap. The panel Tails’ had just been working on exploded, sending fire and smoke into the room. “Aaaaaaaa!” Tails shouted. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” “Tails, what are yo—” Tails ran to the panel and pulled out one of his tools, but it was the wrong one. He pulled out the next, and the next, and the next… “Tails, there is nothing wrong with that panel!” Tails froze. The fire was still raging right in front of him, and he felt it… but Geordi clearly didn’t. Even though the flames had already moved through the floor and were burning him alive, he didn’t care. It’s not real. That did nothing to stop Tails from seeing the fire, but it did keep him from trying to find a tool that didn’t exist. “I…” As he walked over to the Master Emerald, the fires vanished into the background. “I don’t know…” “None of us do,” LaForge said. “Next time something tries to freak me out, I’m just going to turn off my visor. Won’t see anything, only hear.” He tapped his ears. “And I…” His mouth flattened. “W-well that’s certainly a sound.” “What? What is it?” “R-really don’t wanna… talk.” LaForge put his hands over his ears and slowly dropped to the floor. “Y-yeah…” “Geez, I wonder when I’m going to get a panic attack,” Knuckles said, arms folded. “But I’ve never gotten anyth—no! NO! NOOOOO!” “What?” Tails asked. “Can’t you see?! The Master Emerald is shattered!” “Knuckles, you’re sitting on it.” “I… I…” Knuckles grasped the Master Emerald, hugging it tight. “Do not leave me, Master Emerald. I will not leave you. Grant me your strength t—” The colors in the Master Emerald started to sputter and flash before returning to its normal healthy green. “...You saw that, right?” Knuckles asked. Tails nodded slowly. “Is…” “Yeah.” Knuckles gulped. “It’s experiencing the fear too.” Snap. “I… wonder what the Master Emerald is afraid of,” LaForge said, following it up with a bitter laugh. Tails, save me! Tails, you’re letting me burn! “We do not want to know,” Knuckles answered LaForge, staring ahead blankly. Tails! Cosmo was screaming. She was in the fire, reaching out to him. Tails, this is real! I need you, I need you now! You can’t… you can’t take that chance! Tails put his hands to his ears. “No no no no no no no…” Tails! TAILS! A monstrous dragon made of Cosmo heads, bristling with thorns and the blood of the fallen. TAILS YOU WILL OBEY. YOU WILL OBEY… THE METAREX. I was never yours. “NO!” Tails shouted, picking up the closest thing he could find and threw it. It bounced off the Master Emerald, hit LaForge in the head, and landed harmlessly on the floor. “I… s-sorry…” LaForge took off his visor, revealing his blank, white eyes. “I think I don’t need to…” He rubbed his head. “I… warp core breach…” He reached over to a console, ready to press a button. “No!” Tails leaped for him, but suddenly he was falling in a torrent of fire, the smell of burning leaves reaching him. He landed on the console painfully, right on top of LaForge’s hand. “I… what was I about to do?” LaForge took a few steps back. “I… I was about to eject the c—” “I will not let you do this, monster!” Knuckles shouted. He punched forward, hitting the edge of the warp core. It dented. “Emergency Warp Core shut down!” LaForge shouted, running to his console—taking a moment to brush it as though there were spiders on it. “Authority Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge! And… and lockout control to this console for the next ten minutes.” Tails pulled his legs to his chest and started rocking back and forth, tears falling down his face. ~~~ Captain’s Log, Stardate 47932.7 After the recent debacle in engineering, all key systems have been forced into lockout. No one—not even myself—will be able to access them until the computer detects that the fog has cleared. While I was unsure of this move at first, I am now immensely thankful for it, because I have been informed that we have caused significant damage to our warp drive, impulse engines, and various other systems. Luckily, all are nonessential for continued survival, but it is still harrowing. All weapons have been deactivated. If an enemy were to attack us, the computer would raise shields and automatically retaliate. It is ineffective… but somehow I doubt we are going to be in combat here. Crew morale is at an all-time low. Both officers and civilians are screaming, crying, or staring at nothing. There are a few of us who can still move around and go about our days, but… it becomes more difficult with each passing hour. I find myself wishing Data were here. In situations like these, we could always rely on him to take command. We no longer have that luxury. ~~~ Picard did not know why he started, but every morning he woke up still in the dark cloud, he went for a walk around the ship. The nightmares would always follow him—the monsters, the reminders of his failures, the feeling of being enclosed, and the cries of those close to him—and sometimes he would break down. But always, always, he would get back up and complete his tour. First, Engineering. He would always say a few kind words to the Master Emerald. Sometimes it flashed back in response, sometimes it did nothing. LaForge was only there rarely, and even then not to do any work—only to look at the dented warp core with disdain. Picard wished he could order the engineer to fix his precious engine, but it was not to be. Not while the risk of destroying the entire ship was at hand. Picard would visit sickbay next. Half of the time Doctor Crusher would be asleep—from exhaustion or self-drugs, he didn’t know, and he didn’t ask. It was one of the few places that retained partial operation, dispensing sleeping medication and assistance to those who had hurt themselves. Picard had seen a few broken bones, but nothing too serious. Yet. He would leave the sickbay quickly, feeling a little smaller. Then he would go to the holodecks. Still active, still running programs. Several people were trying to use their holographic entertainment to overload their fear, but it was never a permanent solution. A few young and idealistic Lieutenants had commandeered holodeck two and were using it to run simulations on Narnian “magic”. They never got far before one of them screamed or burst into tears. Picard himself had joined them a few times, until he’d seen that he was dissecting his own nephew on a table made of judging eyes. After this, he would wander the halls. Visit Cetacean Ops for a moment, talk to the dolphins, and leave realizing the aquatic crewmembers were no better off than the rest of them. He stopped by a few crew quarters, remind them that he was still around, haunted though he looked. And lastly, he would head to the bridge. But today, he took a detour. He wasn’t sure why, but he rarely knew why he did anything these days, beyond stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his fears. Walking into Ten Forward, he was struck by how empty it was. No people chatting, no people ordering drinks, nothing. The walls were a different color since Eggman rebuilt it, but otherwise… it was exactly the same as before. Blood everywhere, plastered over every single surface. The laugh of a woman Picard didn’t recognize. Picard frowned. “Wait… that’s not…” “Not your nightmare?” Picard whirled around to face Guinan. She sat behind the counter, folding her hands neatly and smiling at Picard. There was no trace of fear on her face. “Guinan…” Picard shook his head. “How…?” Sparks of electricity flew out of fingers larger than planets, skewering millions. “I’m not immune,” Guinan said. “It is just… that I can section my fears away. Where others see them instead.” Bubbling magma reached out and grabbed Picard’s ankle before transforming into unfamiliar faces that rolled into the ground. “I… see,” Picard said. “Why not…?” “Keep my dreams to myself? Jean-Luc, you don’t want to know what someone like myself can do when she’s afraid.” “Fair enough.” Picard sat down at the counter, folding his hands together. “You want to stay?” A billion screams from the world beyond the mirror with a laughing Q ringing through— “For a time.” Picard sighed. “They are just nightmares.” “They are. But no man can handle visions that strong, even if he knows they are fake.” “Not even me…” Picard nodded slowly, expression souring. “If this was a test, you think that would do it. Not one person on this ship has the delusion that they can withstand this, anymore.” “There it is.” The galaxy cracked in half, releasing dragons, all with Guinan’s face, onto the universe. “There what is?” “The problem.” Guinan turned her back to Picard. “Your pride.” Picard let out a bitter laugh. “I think now is hardly the time for jokes.” “I’ll forgive you for being narrow-minded since you’re not yourself.” “And I’ll forgive you for being aggressive.” Picard drummed his fingers on the countertop. “What pride, Guinan?” Her eyes were the flaming suns of creation. “You are right, your pride in yourself is at an all-time low. And you weren’t that proud to begin with, not of yourself. But there is something you take immense pride in.” She leaned in, lower lip trembling slightly. “Humanity.” “Humanity…?” “Yes! Humanity!” A green scourge peeled a man of men in half. “Let me tell you something, Jean-Luc Picard. Humanity, in our universe, is a very proud race. Face of the Federation, bringers of progress. With time, they will unite the galaxy in peace and solve all social ills. And so far, that’s proven to be right, more or less.” “That’s because it is right!” Picard shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “We push forward, challenge ourselves, and rise above our petty beginnings! We may not bring the entire universe to what we desire, but we are always going to move forward and onward! We stand for peace, exploration, and progress! That is what the Federation is!” A Federation symbol exploded, spreading disease into the hearts of all. “In our universe, that was allowed to happen.” “...Allowed?” “Yes. Allowed. We—I’m just as guilty of you as being proud of the Federation—were permitted to grow in this way for the sake of the universe.” She laughed bitterly. “The proud human spirit burst at the seams with its distinct power, transforming the world around it.” Leaning in until her face was almost touching Picard, she started trembling. “Here, it is different. Here, human mettle will not be the savior. It… it can’t be.” “Then what are we to do!?” A single tear rolled down Guinan’s cheek. “Turn our backs on our pride.” “No!” Picard stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. He looked down at the chair in shock. No nightmares came to torment him; the chair remained as the only thing for him to focus on. “See how your spirit rises up in anger at the suggestion?” Guinan said, smiling sadly. Picard did. He didn’t say so, but he did. Slowly, shakily, he stood up and walked out of Ten Forward. ~~~ Riker sat across from Picard in the Captain’s ready room. Picard had still managed to keep his uniform clean and avoid looking like too much of a mess. Riker had not succeeded in this regard, with a disheveled uniform that was missing a few pips and a beard that was half cut on the left side. “The answer is to give up our faith in humanity,” Picard said, trying his absolute hardest not to pick at the spiders that were slowly devouring his skin with mechanical scalpels. “I refuse to believe that,” Riker spat. “It is… apparently what Guinan thinks.” “Then she’s wrong. No one, not even her, is right all the time.” “I don’t know, Number One.” The snake bit into his leg. He was used to that by now. He was not used to the ringing in the back of his ears that reminded him of death. “I… If this Aslan opposed the proud, if he truly, truly did, would he not seek to eliminate and test all forms of pride?” “If we didn’t have our pride, where would we be!?” Riker demanded. “Would the Federation even exist?” “No…” Picard realized. “That was the allowance…” “Sir?” “The allowance. The… Guinan said that we… we…” He shook his head, trying not to focus on the image of his long-lost mother standing behind Riker. “We were allowed to keep our pride. Because it was the way of our universe or… she worded it differently.” “Think of the good it caused.” “And what of the arrogance? The lives? And the…” Picard shook his head. “No, no, it doesn’t matter what it did in our universe. What matters is that it isn’t the same here.” “The truth does not change just because we went to a new world!” “All that changes is what’s permitted…” Picard looked out the window at the darkness. “Nothing more, nothing less…” “What do you suggest, then?” Riker stood up. “That we bow down to this Lion, that we turn our backs on the entire history of the Federation!?” “Number One…” “No, we didn’t bow to Q when he subjected us to the Continuum’s tests, I will not bow down now! This ship will crash and burn before—” “Listen to yourself, Will,” Picard said, softly, with a trembling voice. “Damn this lion, or whoever’s behind this,” Riker seethed, running out of the ready room, leaving Picard alone. Picard sighed, unable to keep the tears from coming. “What are we to do?” He was on the Borg Cube. All his friends and family were in front of him, many parts of their bodies replaced with implants. Their skin was gray, their faces emotionless. The Queen stood behind them, stroking the backs of their heads as if they were her pets. “It’s all… so tiring…” Picard wheezed. “Then give in,” the Queen said. “Become one with the Collective. Turn your back on the Federation. Betray humanity.” Picard didn’t dignify the illusion with a response. He pressed his hands together and furrowed his brow. The Cube fell apart, leaving only an endless expanse of white. Pure loneliness. Not even the Enterprise was there to keep him company. All was nothing. “Nothing… nothing…” He weakly gripped the edges of his desk. “Why do you do this to us? Why? Surely our hubris did not merit this… torment! This… trial! What is the benefit!?” He began to grow old, body turning to sand. Shifting into the white emptiness below. “We aren’t learning anything…” Picard said, shaking his head. “We’re just growing deeper in spite and fear. We…” He stopped short, staring at the wall in front of him, right through the nightmare. “We… can’t learn. It isn’t in our power… If we lose our pride in our humanity, what do we have left?” He stood up, walking to the window. For once, he could look out into the darkness and not see some kind of horrific image. “We can’t…” He was laughing and crying at the same time. “Do you hear me? We can’t! We can’t…” He placed a hand to the window, trembling. “I can’t. Even now… I still think we’re going to escape, going to get ourselves out. It’s how it’s always been… Even suspecting that is exactly what is keeping us here, I can’t get rid of it.” He pressed his head to the window, shaking. “We are incapable of destroying our own pride.” “The first step is often the hardest.” Then there was light. Opening his eyes, Picard saw the sun in a blue sky over a calm ocean. The darkness was gone—but, somehow, Picard didn’t care about that right now. Slowly, he turned around. There, sitting in his chair, was a lion with fur like gold and a glorious mane. The lion’s face was predatory and animalistic, but still somehow stared right into Picard’s soul. A million questions rose and died within Picard’s mind, so he said nothing. His instincts as a Starfleet officer fought to rise to the surface, demanding he introduce himself as a Federation Captain, but they could not beat out Picard’s wonder. In the end, all Picard could do was stare at the lion like a dumb idiot. “Do not worry, my child.” “You already know it all.” It wasn’t a question. Picard took a step forward. “You know about the trial at the forest, our darkness, our mission to find you… We never needed to find you.” The initial wonder of seeing Aslan was quickly being replaced with indignation. “What was the point?” “You needed to seek me.” “For… this?” Picard held out his hands, gesturing at his ship, sure the lion knew full well the horrors that had been happening within. “All this horror, pain, fear? This fear that…” He paused. “We could have destroyed ourselves! If it wasn’t for the computer lockouts, if someone had broken through…” “That would not have been allowed.” “Then you claim this was for our benefit. You let it continue as long as it did because you thought it would be good for us.” Picard leaned in, glaring at the lion. “Surely there were better ways.” “Who are you to say what was the best way to teach you?” Aslan tilted his head to the side to emphasize the question. “Ah…” Picard nodded slowly, frowning. “We can’t do it ourselves… A simple admission of our own inability to see our own pride… How simple and how impossible. Of course, I’m beginning to suspect that’s what you are as well.” The Captain felt his words coming back to him, a life returning to his body that had been absent for several days. “You truly mean us no harm.” There was no need for Aslan to answer. “I wish to make it clear that I, and the Federation as a whole, do not approve of your methods.” “I do not seek the approval of man.” “No… you do not. But you care about us, or you wouldn’t have done things the way you did. You don’t seek our approval, but you do listen to what we feel. And running us through a gauntlet of fear just to get us to see a little flaw… We were tormented! This was agony!” Aslan lifted his head slightly. “The evil in creation is not me, Jean-Luc. It acts of its own accord. It devours, destroys, and kills. But it can never have complete victory, for even the darkest trials will be turned to good in the fullness of time.” “How can you say you know what that time is?” Picard felt as though his strength was fully back to him, and while he was mildly nervous, he wasn’t going to back down. “Why was helping us now different from helping us an hour ago, or an hour from now?” Aslan spoke no words, simply fixing him with a calm, serene expression. “No being has that kind of authority,” Picard said. “What you think of me is your choice. I would have it no other way.” Picard frowned. He really couldn’t make a judgment of the creature before him, could he? He saw so little. And what he did see was kind and understanding. But that could easily have been a lie. All of it could have been a lie, and Picard would have no way of knowing. “What are we supposed to do here?” Picard asked. “What am I to do? Should I thank you for helping us? Thank you for coming in at the ‘perfect’ time? Or should I shout in rage at you daring to meddle in our affairs? Or for waiting to render assistance?” “The oldest of my servants know to be thankful even for the darkness, for they know the reward of coming out of the tunnel. They also know to lament, for the worlds should not be this way.” “So the answer is all of the above?” Aslan let out a beautiful, melodic, and yet powerful laugh. He rested a paw on Picard’s shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. There was understanding in those eyes—but no answer for Picard’s question. And like that, the lion was gone. Slowly, Picard walked out of his ready room to a bridge with a crew that was staring slack-jawed at the blue ocean on the viewscreen. “I don’t know what we did, sir,” Riker said. “But it’s gone.” “I know exactly what we did, Number One.” He sat down in his captain’s chair, looking directly ahead. “There was an admission of inadequacy.” Picard leaned as far back into the chair’s padding as he could, letting out a deep, tense sigh. Riker looked at him. “You didn’t…” “Yes, Number One, I did. And I had a rather... ‘enlightening’ chat with Aslan immediately afterward.” “Computer!” Riker called. “Was there anything in the ready room just now?” “Affirmative. A lion-like being was detected.” Picard smirked. “Thought I was going senile?” “Captain, apologies, I did no—” “No harm done, Number One,” Picard said. “As it turns out, our mission was unnecessary and doomed to failure. He already knows of the plight and is helping in his own way. His… methods are distinctly different from our own, and against much of the Federation’s charter. However, I am… fairly certain that he means us no harm. ” “That doesn’t mean he won’t harm us.” “No… no it does not…” Picard frowned, pondering things for a moment. Even now, though, everyone was looking to him for what to do. He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you more at the briefing later. For now… status report!” Riker nodded. “The impulse engines and warp drive are busted, some systems aren’t coming back online correctly, the crew is slowly waking up and already feels like the entire thing was some weird dream, and we’re floating over top of an island with some really strange readings.” “A strange island?” Picard folded his hands. “Since our propulsion needs to be repaired, I think we should have a look. A good old-fashioned away mission.” “...Sir?” “We’re not in any hurry to get anywhere, Commander. Send a message to Flipside, prepare for a briefing in half an hour, and be ready to go down as soon as everyone’s checked for lingering effects.” “...Yes, sir.”