“Warp six.”

“We register influx of antimatter.”

“Twenty seconds.”

As Sulu announced Universenow in range of the third probe, she gave thought to how these next few moments would be recorded in history. It energized her to be a participant in such a momentous event.

“Warp eight.”

“Hyperwarp generators are online.”

“Fifteen seconds.”

At the sciences station, an energy waveform suddenly surged across one of the displays. Sulu did not recognize its shape or structure, and she quickly worked her controls to isolate its source and identify it.

“Warp nine.”

“Beginning hyperwarp reaction.”

“Ten seconds.”

As Sulu scanned space for the origin of the energy wave, she also queried the library computer about it. An answer appeared at once on a readout, and Sulu felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. The only source known to generate such a waveform was a Romulan cloaking device.

“Warp nine-point-three,” Universe’s helm officer, Seaver, said.

“Confirming hyperwarp initiation,”the engineer, Chernin, said.

“Five seconds.”Captain Kuwano.

Sulu opened her mouth to shout a warning to Universe’s crew, to alert them to the presence of a Romulan vessel in nearby space, maybe even to end the test run right now. If the Romulans had sabotaged the field trials—

But in that instant, sensors ascertained the location of the waveform’s source: Universeitself. Somewhere aboard the experimental Starfleet vessel functioned Romulan cloaking technology, or the Federation equivalent. This clearly had been the reason for Starfleet’s security measures with respect to these trials.

“Warp nine-point-five.”

“We’re on track.”

“Three seconds…two…one.”

On the readouts of the probe data, the numbers began to change not just quantitatively, but qualitatively. The readings no longer described a starship traveling at warp velocities. Sulu held her breath.

“We are at hyperwarp, factor one,”Seaver said, and Sulu could tell that the woman had spoken with a wide smile on her face. Sulu exhaled in relief, and then couldn’t resist squeezing her hand into a fist and jabbing the air in celebration. Applause went up on the bridge of Enterprise,and she was sure, on the bridges of the other ships as well.

“Congratulations,Universe,” Admiral Harriman said.

Across the bridge from Sulu, at a starboard engineering console, Rafe Buonarroti said, “Those engines must be le bellezze.”He saw her looking over at him, and he smiled. She smiled back.

“Our joys as wingèd dreams do fly,”Sulu thought, unsure of the source of the quote, but feeling that it applied here. Her father had passed his sense of romance down to her.

“Maintaining hyperwarp one,”Seaver said.

A moment later, Sulu thought she heard someone gasp. Then: “Look at the stars.”It was Captain Kuwano, speaking almost in a whisper.

“Capt—” somebody began to shout, and then a thunderous sound swept across the bridge of Enterprise.In an instant, the sound was gone, and behind it followed only silence.

Sulu looked at the readouts. All of the numbers had dropped to zero. She felt the blood drain from her face and her skin grow cold.

“Universe, this is Harriman,”the admiral roared. “Come in,Universe.”

And still, there was only silence.

“We have no comlink with the Universe,”Kanchumurthi said.

“I’m reading a malfunction,”another disembodied voice said.

“Captain,” Tenger said, “there’s been an explosion.”

Sulu felt as though her heart had stopped in her chest.

“What have we got?” Captain Harriman wanted to know, standing from his chair. “Tenger? Demora?”

Sulu checked the readouts from the probes twice, and then Enterprise’s own sensor readings twice, before answering. Finally, she had no choice but to say the unthinkable. “Captain…the Universeis gone.”

Harriman stood staring at the empty starscape on the viewscreen. For the first time on the bridge of Enterprise,he did not know how to act, what to say. What his crew must be feeling right now…

“Captain,” Tenger said, his tone urgent. “The explosion sent out a shock wave, concentrated in one direction. Ad Astrawas in its path.”

“Shields up,” Harriman said, no longer at a loss for words, even as he remembered that there had been another time when he had not known how to act or what to say on Enterprise’s bridge: during the ship’s maiden voyage. “Ad Astra,this is Enterprise.Come in.”

No response.

“The comlink has been knocked out,” Lieutenant Kanchumurthi explained. “Now we’ve lost contact with all the ships.”

“Tenger,” Harriman asked, “can we make it through the shock wave?”

“We’re not in the path of the main wave,” Tenger said.

“With shields up, we should have no problem.”

“Xintal, best speed to Ad Astra,”Harriman said. “Tolek, coordinates from Lieutenant Tenger.”

Linojj and Tolek both responded verbally even as they began working their consoles.

“Ramesh,” Harriman said to Kanchumurthi, “try to raise Canaveral.See if they can assist.”

“Yes, sir,” Kanchumurthi said.

And as Enterpriseleaped to warp, Harriman thought the same two things that he had during his vessel’s disastrous first flight eighteen years ago: that he hoped he could rescue the crew of a ship in trouble, and that this hadn’t been supposed to happen.

Blackjack Harriman stood on the bridge of the support vessel Ad Astraand waited to hear the words.

“We are at hyperwarp, factor one.”

Around Blackjack, the other four people on Ad Astra’s bridge—the ship’s captain, the helm and navigation officers, and a sensor technician—all clapped. Over the comlink, Blackjack heard applause from the crews of the other ships as well. He tried to imagine his son’s reaction, then quickly put the thought out of his mind.

“Congratulations, Universe,”Blackjack said, playing his role as the ranking officer in the operation. He looked around the bridge—with barely enough room for its five occupants, the small area would more aptly be called a control room—and saw the Ad Astraofficers all exchanging celebratory glances.

Somebody said something unintelligible over the comlink, and then Blackjack heard, “Maintaining hyperwarp one.”

And then somebody gasped, and on the heels of that: “Look at the stars.”

“Capt—”came a shout, clipped off by a deafening noise, followed by a horrible quiet. Blackjack moved past Captain Saren-Sah in the command chair and leaned over the sensor technician. On the scan readouts, he saw that all of the entries had changed to zeroes.

“Universe,this is Harriman,” he bellowed. “Come in, Universe.”

No response.

“ We have no comlink with theUniverse,” somebody said.

“I’m reading a malfunction,” said Ad Astra’s sensor technician.

“Captain, there’s been—” The comlink ended as abruptly as though it had been sliced in two by an axe.

Suddenly, the deck canted sharply to one side, and Blackjack was thrown from his feet. He brought his hands up, but too late; his chest collided with the arm of Saren-Sah’s command chair. He felt his breath leave him as he tumbled onto the deck. His shoulder struck hard, and even with the din now filling the bridge, he heard the sickening snap of his bones.

He heard yelling, but could not make out any words. Butthen the noise diminished enough that he could hear Saren-Sah issuing orders to the crew: to raise shields, to bring the ship about, to map the shock wave and chart a course into and through it. Blackjack reached up and grabbed for the arm of Saren-Sah’s chair, pulling himself to his feet. His injured arm hung limply at his side. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, and tried to steady his gaze in the badly shaking ship. In the dim red flash of alert lighting, he saw Saren-Sah leaning in over the helm as the other officers all struggled back toward their stations, obviously having been tossed from their chairs.