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“The original divergence event was triggered in 2373 by the Borg, who attempted to use a chroniton attack upon the Enterprise-E while it was transiting the Borg’s temporal vortex.”
“Well,” La Forge continued, “that’s where the attack came from. Even though we were shielded from being erased from history because we were caught up in the wake of the Borg sphere’s temporal vortex, the Borg on Earth’s surface knew we were there. Until we weren’t.”
“We are the First Splinter timeline. Every moment we have lived since the Enterprise-E returned from its mission to 2063 Earth has transpired in this new temporal reality. And the longer it goes on, the more it diverges from the Prime timeline.”
And then Wesley put Picard’s growing dismay into words: “Does anyone know a non-terrifying way to ask Memory Omega to help us retroactively destroy the universe?”
Crusher fixed Barclay with an accusatory stare. He withered like a weed in the desert sun, and then he shrugged and mustered a crooked, embarrassed smile. “Is it a crime to do the reading before a test?” “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” Crusher turned her attention to Director Saavik.
His order was cut off by an emergency siren. Outside the windows of Akaar’s office, the radiant glow of sunset dimmed and went dark. Apocalyptic strokes of lightning bent across the sky as junior officers and members of the president’s protection detail rushed into the office yammering about “subspatial disruptions” and “temporal distortions.” In a matter of seconds they gathered up Akaar and President zh’Tarash and hurried them out of frame—just as a burst of static filled the viewscreen, which quickly reverted to the image of deep space.
With a tap, Keru relayed a signal to the main viewscreen— Just in time for everyone to watch a vortex of darkness tear Paris to shreds. The Eiffel Tower collapsed into twists of iron that blew away like leaves. The Palais de la Concorde, the seat of the Federation’s government, disintegrated like dust falling into a star. The Federation Council building was swept away seconds later. The sensors from Paris went black. The computer switched to the San Francisco feed. The city’s skyline flew apart. The Golden Gate Bridge broke into pieces and fell into the bay. Beyond the bridge, a surge of fire
...more
Wow!
Spock stood, transfixed by the titanic holograms. Never did I expect to witness the end of all existence within my own lifetime. Confronted with it now, I find it almost too horrific to believe—even though I know it to be true. He could not help but reflect upon events from more than a century earlier—the last time he had ever seen his foster sister. I wonder if this was how Michael felt while she was fighting to save all life in the galaxy from the first omnicidal artificial superintelligence known as Control.
ablative armor.”
All these years I thought it was "a blade-of-armor".
Fearing nothing and no one, Luc waded into the midst of the Romulan commandos. Now for my finale.
She found Worf… interesting. No, more than that—she found him attractive. Kahless, help me.
La Forge sighed. “Worf, I don’t care what anybody says. You were born for command.” The Klingon knitted his brows in confusion, and then he looked at K’Ehleyr. “I think I have just been insulted.”
Life was short. Death was coming. And true love was a gift given to very few. Grateful once more to feel the flames of desire, Worf surrendered himself to the first and also the last woman he would ever love.
By the time he had pulled himself to his feet, the side of the outrider had reconfigured itself to offer him an exit stairway—a trick the Enterprise crew had attributed to the outrider having been built with programmable matter.
Oh, I wonder where they got "programmable matter" from. :-)
There he spied the source of the tumult—and his brain went blank in terror.
When at last he’d recovered his equilibrium, he looked up and saw someone—a stranger who definitely was not a Devidian—in a tunnel across the arena. It looked like a man: human and ancient, with bone-white hair and a ragged white beard. His posture was crooked but his aspect was fierce. Wesley peered intently, studied the man— —and then he realized the ancient stranger was looking back at him. As they locked eyes, Wesley realized who the old man was. That’s me.
A sharp blow to the back of his head purpled his vision and put him on his knees. Then a jolt of blue lightning from a bone staff struck his chest, and everything went black.
“Deanna, you don’t understand. I can’t let them die, not again.” “Die again? Who are you talking about?” “Thad and Kestra!” Tears fell from Riker’s eyes. “Our children!” “Will? We have one child, a daughter. Natasha.”
Tears shone in her eyes. “I know.” She kissed him, quickly but with passion tempered by sorrow, and then pressed her forehead against his. “I know.” Picard kissed his wife once more, and then forced himself to step away from her. There was grief and dread in her eyes as she let him go.
To Bashir’s horror, Sisko spun about-face and tried to raise his rifle—but as he aimed, the drone fired. A reddish pulse shot from the Borg’s wrist-mounted energy weapon and blasted open a smoldering hole in Sisko’s gut.
Damn shitty way to go, Sisko.
“Julian… call me Ben.” Sisko’s eyes fluttered closed as he let go of his final breath. Bashir reverently folded the captain’s hands atop his chest. Benjamin Lafayette Sisko—decorated Starfleet officer, Bajor’s revered Emissary of the Prophets, and Julian Bashir’s beloved brother-in-arms—was dead.
“So… this is good-bye.” Saying the words felt like cutting out his heart. “It would seem so. Even under the best of circumstances, whether we succeed or fail, it is likely we will never see each other again.”
This is Data and La Forge having their last conversation.
Kira fantasized about throttling her.
LOL
Then a man-sized supernova scorched the Devidians with hellfire and white light, as Wesley Crusher’s mortal body exploded.
And Garak—anything-but-plain-and-simple Garak. I took his friendship for granted. He showed me the most selfless love I’ve ever known. I owed him so much more. So much better.
Julian Subatoi Bashir smiled as the explosives at his hip detonated—a flash of sound and fury that, for just one moment, signified everything.
Alexander dropped Worf and fell beside him. They lay side by side, bleeding and gasping for air.
“No! They’re mine! Mine!” This is what it means to be Klingon. To savor the cries of my enemies and feel their blood on my face. K’Ehleyr delighted in the poetry of motion, the dance of the blade. Fearless and defiant, she stood alone, a lioness defending her mate and cub with fang and claw. My Klingon ancestors would be proud. A paralyzing blast of pain erupted in her lower back. Her world flashed white and then washed to scarlet.
The Sisko Prophet leaned into view beside her, a visitor in her oasis. He set his hand atop hers on the Orb of Time. “We remember. Forever.”
Everything around Troi and Tasha became white light, and a heat so intense and all-consuming that it didn’t leave them even a millisecond in which to feel pain. And then all that Troi and Tasha were, and all they had ever been, became nothing at all.
Wow!
There was no time in the physical world for either of them to shed a tear, but they both expressed the figurative notion of doing so as they realized their remaining time would be measured in nanoseconds.
Crying, Crusher embraced Picard and their son. “Do it.” Death rained down upon Riker and sh’Aqabaa in a storm of lethal silver. A hundred ghostly hands reached out to steal Picard’s family from him. He kissed his wife for the last time. And he pressed the trigger.
The future disappeared into memory.
I carry all of my possibilities within me… always. I contain multitudes.
“Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives. But I’d rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey, and reminds us to cherish every moment. Because they’ll never come again.”
The old man squints into the sun and drinks in its perfect light. Just as Anij taught him, he finds forever in this moment. Then comes oblivion’s inevitable embrace. The rest is silence.
"The rest is silence" is a great way to end the book.
A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP —Leonard Nimoy’s last tweet @TheRealNimoy February 23, 2015
In latter days, sitting alone in his manor, pondering the events of years that preceded this self-imposed exile, trying to understand where and how it had all gone wrong, M. Jean-Luc Picard (formerly of Starfleet) would often come back to one moment. Benny smiles. This feels right. A new future begins here.
And now we're back to the Prime timeline.
