Doctor Lomal ran the cortical scanner from one of Felrak’s wide temples to the other. The tricorder display cast a glossy sheen upon the Bajoran Doctor’s dark skin, highlighting nose ridges that wrinkled further under a deep frown.  

“I don’t even know where to begin sometimes with Argosian brain physiology,” came a deep grumble. 

Felrak laughed, rocking back a little on the end of the biobed, “I apologise, Doctor. I believe I’m carrying a few more lobes up there than the average humanoid.” 

“The lobes aren’t the problem here,” Lomal flipped the tricorder closed, stowing the scanner, “it’s the constant mycelial interactions the innermost membrane. The nourishment layer, where most species would have a meningeal envelope, yours-” 

“Saturated with spores,” Felrak’s large, glassy eyes looked up at Lomal, “Forgive me. It’s not the first time a Doctor has voiced… Vexations about my brain.”  

Lomal’s frown softened, “It certainly is vexing, Captain. I’ve read every damn paper on the topic. There’s just too much electical activity in the fungal mycelium layer to get a read on the neural signals.” 

Felrak sighed, “I was just looking for something to make this headache go away.” 

Lomal deposited the tricorder in the deep pocket of his blueish lab coat, “Then this calls for a more traditional diagnostic approach. When did the symptoms first start?” 

Scratching at the nape of his neck, Felrak thought back, “You know, I believe the first time I got one like this was in the Delta Quadrant.” 

“The exoplanet? With the Blood Dilithium?” The concern returned to Lomal’s face. 

“Around then, yes.” 

“Before or after you awoke from the coma?” 

Felrak’s eyes drifted past Lomal, remembering, “You know, Doctor, I’d say it was during. At first I thought it was the Brenari. It seemed they were showing me their pain.”  

“Which I have no doubt was a hallucination caused by the Blood Dilithium’s effect on the same mycelial layer of your brain,” Lomal recalled the report he’d prepared shortly following the incident. 

“Yes, of course,” Felrak’s eyes met the Doctor’s once more. A faint smile crossed his dark green lips.  

“I’m not happy about it,” Lomal crossed his arms, his full height becoming apparent, “What I’d really like is to keep you here under observation. Until I can get a clearer picture of what’s going on. Those lichen patches, where you fuse to the tree, they’ve gotten thinner.” 

Felrak rubbed his shoulder where it grew, “The orbosh… Lately it has not provided me with the energy it once did…”  

“And don’t you think that might have been worth mentioning earlier, Captain?” 

Felrak shifted uncomfortably for a silent moment. Then the red alert signal blared. 

“Tursk to Vordenna,” the Tellarite voice barked through from the Bridge. 

“Go ahead, Commander.” 

“The Jem’Hadar ship has dropped out of warp. We’re about one lightyear into the Black Cluster, sir. It seems they’re making directly for a nearby pulsar.” 

“Match speed and heading, Mr. Tursk. I’m on my way.” The com channel closed. Felrak stood, wincing as another jolt of pain shot behind his eyes. Steadying himself on the edge of the bed, he regained focus, “Care to observe me on the bridge, Doctor?”   

Lomal, with clear disapproval, reluctantly turned to the medical replicator. Inputting a quick series of commands, a thumb-sized canister materialised. Whipping a hypospray from another coat pocket, the Doctor loaded it for delivery, “This’ll give you some temporary pain relief,” he brought the hypospray to Felrak’s neck, “against my better judgement, I should add.” 

“Thank you, Doctor Lomal,” Felrak turned, stepping towards the sickbay doors. 

“When we’re done with this wild goose chase, or whatever the humans call it, we need to put back to starbase so you can see a specialist.”  

“I have full faith in you, Doctor. All your patching up has done wonders so far,” the two of them entered the turbolift, “Bridge.” 

“It’s more like papering over the cracks,” Lomal huffed. The turbolift whirred to life. 

The bridge was bathed in pale blue light radiating from an immense, seething orb displayed on the viewer, “Report. What are we looking at?” Felrak strode ahead of Dr. Lomal down the small slope to the centre chair.  

“Gamma-ray Pulsar 3846 B, Sir,” came Tursk’s familiar growl, “One rotation per 4.84 seconds. Jem’Hadar are currently moving within half a lightyear of it. Heading 143-mark-012.” 

Felrak glanced down at his display, confirming what Tursk had said. Lomal seated himself in the mission advisor’s chair to the Captain’s left. Both could just make out the silhouette of the Jem’Hadar attack ship against the surging, ribbon-like crests and waves of the pulsar’s immense surface. 

“There’s no way they’d be able to see us on sensors that close in,” Felrak’s eyes narrowed as he peered out across the vast, radiation-saturated expanse.  

“There’s no way they’re seeing anything at all,” Lupulo spoke up from behind them, “Radiation at those concentrations… Their sensor palettes are fried, no question.” 

“What are they doing?” Felrak muttered, thinking out loud.  

“We’ve been asking the same thing since they started heading that way,” Tursk raised his eyebrows, equally perplexed. 

“Delfino, can we get in closer?” Felrak leaned forward, “I want a full scan.” 

“It’d have to be very close, Sir,” Althaia called back, “It’s pea soup out there.” 

“Captain,” Lupulo cut in, “We have to assume their weapons are still functioning. Even if their targeting ain’t so hot, if they do realise we’re here it won’t last long.” 

“Noted, Mr. Lupulo,” Felrak angled his head back, acknowledging the Tactical Officer’s concerns, “Take us in, Althaia.” 

Tursk’s black eyes looked back to Lupulo, his expression softened with a glimmer of understanding. Phasers of Chin’toka tore through his thoughts, and he gripped the arms of his chair. The Ahwahnee crept forward towards the old enemy.  

A warning chimed on conn, “Sir. I’m reading a large antimatter buildup at the attack ship’s position.” 

“Full power to forward shields,” Tursk responded instantly. 

“All stop,” followed Felrak, “I need details, Lieutenant.” 

“I… Can’t make it out… Sir, it looks like some kind of containment pod. It’s drifting further from their main hull,” Althaia’s nimble hands raced over the conn, frantically searching for any sensor enhancement or tweak by which they might see through the all-encompassing radioactive miasma.  

“Warp core ejection?” Tursk offered. 

“Negative,” Althaia continued to multitask, “There’s four warp cores’ worth of antimatter there, at least for a ship of that size.”  

“What the hell are they doing? If that ruptures…” Lupulo gripped the railing hard, scarcely believing what was now unfolding in front of them, a visual now having been established by Althaia, “That kind of shockwave, this close to a pulsar. I don’t want to be around if-” 

“Sir, the Jem’Hadar ship has accelerated to full impulse on a new heading,” another alarm, “They’ve armed a polaron torpedo.” 

“Back us off!” Tursk roared. 

“BELAY THAT,” Felrak rose from his chair, “Althaia, match their speed and heading.”  

“Aye, Sir.” 

The Ahwahnee pivoted, powering through the blue haze. The Jem’Hadar ship, only a little further along the pulsar’s orbit path, loosed the torpedo from its aft launcher.   

“Detonation,” Althaia announced. 

“4.84 seconds,” Felrak looked to his First Officer, “The rotation interval. They’ve timed it. We’re going to ride the shockwave.” 

Dr. Lomal, turned to them both, confusion mixed with fear in his eyes, “Where?” 

A deep trembling permeated the Ahwahnee’s hull, signalling the approaching wall of cosmic force. Tursk nodded towards the Jem’Hadar ship on screen, “Wherever they want.” 

The explosion billowed out in an all-consuming tidal wave on the galactic sea. Time stretched and compressed; caught between the quantum dictates that had shaped those universal contours not fourteen billion years prior. The USS Ahwahnee, on the verge of being unmade by those very same laws, was snatched up like a child’s toy on the foaming current. Catapulted forward, the fragile starship moved beyond concepts of time and distance held by those within. Her spaceframe; meagre shelter from the ravenous storm. Her path decided by mortal foe.