"The Enemy Within"

[STSF Shadow 0]

"The Enemy Within"

 

On the morning of September 5, in the year 2397, in an uncharted region of the Perseus arm, Tactical Officer Beauregard's practiced eye shifted momentarily from its routine surveillance of several monitors to catch the briefest blip, an anomaly off Agincourt's port bow. Within half a second he had processed the information, reported it, and noted it in his log. It was small. Inconsequential. Further analysis showed no effect on any of Agincourt's systems, so Lt Sanchez, Officer of the Watch, dismissed it with a wave and entered a minute energy discharge of unknown origin into her log as well. Shortly thereafter an exhausted energy being seeped wearily through the hull and draped what was left of his field over a power junction just outside main engineering.

 

Shadow lay there, desolate, bereft of all being, lost, bewildered, swirling in a dizzy spiral while conflicting elements of this universe stabbed at him, wielding a vicious blade that threatened to sever the very essence of his being and throw him into oblivion.

 

Is this what they call death? Is this the end of my existence? And in it I feel the end without having known the beginning? How ironic that in my ending I should finally understand what has eluded me thus far, the essence of the finite existence of these biologicals, the end of being. Then, without so much as a thought, Shadow melted into the power conduit, remaining there inert, losing all sense of being, all sense of self.

 

It had begun with a statement uttered by an unsuspecting Dr. Tordai. "The energy is none of your concern. It comes from those aboard the vessel. Their problems are their own." It was beyond his comprehension. These beings actually produced negative energy? If so, did they do so willingly?

 

At that point, a primal force as ancient as the universe had triggered a change. Humanoids would call it instinct; he called it survival.

 

Shadow had begun a slow, deliberate transformation as the full realization of Lexia's statement overtook him. In his universe there were positive and negative; there was no middle ground. Shadow's survival and the survival of his bond depended on defense against the negative, and as he spoke his final words the change came upon him in full force. He struggled to suppress it, to prevent himself from transforming from benign to destructive, but he was powerless.

 

"The biologicals on this vessel create negative energy? How is that possible? We must do combat."

 

"No, we must not do battle," Lexia had said.

 

A surging ball of energy grew inside him, slowly overcoming his Vulcan science officer form. "Negative energy is dangerous. How can we not do battle?"

 

"Negative energy is dangerous, yes, but it is not always a threat."

 

Shadow backed away, his combat form growing exponentially. How could it not be a threat? How could these beings he called friends harbor the negative? How could they produce it, coexist with it? "It is always a threat. It can destroy everything."

 

"So can the antimatter on this ship," she had continued. "Sometimes a little risk . . . " But he did not hear the rest. She did not know the difference. She did not know the danger.

 

Then Shadow had found himself faced with a choice. He could combat the negative energy and in so doing destroy all he knew in this universe, destroy his friends, destroy his home. Or, he could deal with the negative as he never had before. He could retreat, exit the ship, discharge in space, and return to confront this negative energy in a different way.

 

If he survived.

 

He chose the latter, plunged alone into the emptiness of space beyond the hull, and discharged harmlessly. Harmless to those he called friends, but not harmless to himself. Without his bonded cohorts, without other energy beings for support in the fight, Shadow almost totally dissipated. Exhausted, with barely enough energy to slip back into the ship and find a power source, he felt himself at the end of his existence.

 

Have they not known? Have they not heard? Have they not been told it from the foundations of the universe? They concern themselves with a virus and worry how the virus changes physiology, how it destroys the original being and remakes it into another. But the Driscol says a virus can be contained, a virus can be destroyed. This energy they produce, they nourish it, they harbor it within themselves, fomenting disorder and chaos. That is more powerful and more destructive than any virus.

 

His revival came with a jolt, a sudden fluctuation in ship's power, that shocked him back to existence. Still, he lay there weak and trembling, wondering if it were better to be here, among those who embraced the negative, or to fade from existence. Once again he felt lost. Alone. How could he tell them? Would they understand? Would they try to understand?

 

The enemy is not external. The enemy is within.