DISCLAIMER: It's Paramount's galaxy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: C/7. Set in AU#2 established in fanfiction story "Alternatives." Follows Phstk's journey to evade the so-called 'Multiverse Stewards' and return to his own universe with the help of Chakotay and Seven.

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THE FOLLY OF THE STEWARDS

Stardate 57833.5 (AU#2)

# Chapter 1 – The Dissident

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Observer's summary: At this point, timeline proceeds at 0.15 in a general deviation of -0.106 from median, even though confluence not originally determined for this timeline. Target subject 7234 for follow-up observation at E577:367:00.0.

End – E577:345:09.3

5582

Key indicator (7234/5): -0.02 (13% improve)

General: nominal

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Phstk retracted his left posterior tentacle and considered the report he just completed. His coloring changed from brown to a deep crimson as he relaxed. It was the last of the reports required for this most recent spatiotemporal confluence on subject 7235 and he could now turn his attention to planning the recruitment incursion on subject A823 in universe 98743. Why the Hierarchy was interested in that creature, he couldn't fathom.

He paused and tapped the silicon surface of the desk in front of him. The particular universe of this final report hadn't been the reason for the confluence, and in fact, showed the least deviation of the various timelines involved. Because it was the easiest to summarize, however, he had saved it until last. It was ready to go, but he had a strange feeling he was forgetting something. After submission, the report would be filed within the manifold and be accessible from this point forward by all the Stewards.

Using this bank of knowledge Phstk could look across the dimension of time at any of the accessible universes if he wished. He could peer into the distant past, back to the creation of the Stewards, or gaze at the multiple future probability reports and visibility trends across universes. And then, of course, all the time-loops, dead-end tracks, parallel transmuted streams, and other variants possible in a universe's timeline. The volume of information was daunting, but fortunately Phstk was only responsible for a tiny fraction. He couldn't imagine anyone really being interested in the detailed results concerning the decillions of individual sentient consciousnesses of the particular universes he governed. Perhaps the information was used by someone in the Hierarchy for other purposes. No doubt to justify their existence or the prominence of the Stewards themselves or to bolster the position of one of the various factions in the Hierarchy.

His coloring switched back to brown suddenly. He needed to be more careful. He stopped tapping with his tentacle and quickly sent the final report into the manifold. He clicked to himself nervously.

Might something in the Hierarchy be eavesdropping on his thoughts right now as easily as he was able for the creatures in the various universes of the multiverse?

Unconsciously, Phstk reached with one of his anterior tentacles and picked up the crystalline dodecahedron on the shelf by his desk as the confirmation receipt from the Steward Hierarchy arrived. Being a mental construct of his own design, there was not much else contained within the confines of his office and living area. Some Stewards made elaborate dwellings for themselves, but Phstk preferred a very simple existence. He let the small solid roll about on his tip as it spun in the micro-gravity environment he preferred. A similar sensation, if he recalled correctly, to the upper atmosphere of his homeworld. Something about this last universe still concerned him. It elicited a memory, and he hesitated before continuing with his work.

Fully, this was universe A7/9-11793-RR-5582. 5582 was its abbreviated designation. But what was it that seemed so familiar? He glanced over at the dodecahedron and sighed, his expression sounding like a whistle of wind through trees, which of course was approximately what it was for the auditory sounds made through the air was how his species communicated. His species.

Phstk waved his left posterior tentacle over the desk again and some figures and reports appeared before his multifaceted eyes. His eyes were at the end of stalks that protruded from the top of his main body. He studied the timeline carefully, and then clucked excitedly, with sounds similar to the last part of his name. That was, of course, where his name was derived, given to him by his birth mother after his hydronization ceremony all those years ago. Of course. This was his universe. Generations ago, but this was the very universe where he was created and from which he was extracted and recruited by the Stewards.

A sign perhaps?

He sighed again at the revelation and turned to regard the dodecahedron once more. For the countless time he regarded the solid's physical form and wondered if it truly existed as matter or was it simply a manifestation of his consciousness. The Hierarchy professed they existed in a sub-space manifold within the higher dimensional space of the multiverse, outside but just touching at all space-time each of the individual universes themselves. They insisted the "space" within this manifold did not contain baryonic matter, but rather only the individual consciousnesses of the Stewards, and of course the volume of information created and stored by them. His office and living area, these reports detailing his work, his own body and that of the solid he was currently holding were simply constructs of his consciousness and those of the other Stewards. According to the Hierarchy, the facsimile of their world here was an illusion. Within the manifold of higher dimensional space, each Steward had complete control over form and structure of the constructs they created in their mind. Or rather, the consciousness that once was contained within the mind. Everything he saw in the manifold, all the interactions with other Stewards, where only those constructs of the group consciousness. As he thought this, Phstk created the other four perfect solids to float beside the dodecahedron, all made with different precious metals. A tetrahedron of silver, a cube of gold, an octahedron of platinum, and an icosahedron of dilithium.

There were only five perfect solids in a three-dimensional spatial domain. Each face the same shape, and the same number of faces meeting at each vertex. A mathematical property that transcended all universes and the multiverse itself, within and without the manifold. In a strange way, it was comforting to Phstk to know of their existence. Regardless of the wishes of the Hierarchy, this mathematical reality could not be manipulated or changed. It just was. It existed always and transcended the Stewards and the Hierarchy. It belonged to a higher purpose.

The five solids danced about his tentacles as he juggled them in the microgravity of his environment. These were materials he knew about before becoming a Steward, but never actually saw until he entered the manifold. But was he really even seeing them now? Was this simply all really just a construct?

He swept the solids aside and returned to looking at the display in front of him. How long had he been here, a Steward within the Hierarchy? He could easily pull up the report detailing his recruitment. Did that matter? He was ageless now, a facsimile of his form which he was when extracted from his universe. His last memory of his home was gliding in the thick upper atmosphere of his planet. Feeding by the hydrogen geysers, the colors of the methane clouds at sunset, hunting the leviathans of the deep atmosphere. Did his body remain there with only his consciousness brought into the manifold? An empty shell. It would be gone by now. Perhaps eaten by one of the beasts, or crushed in the lower atmosphere. He shuddered at the thought and pulsed green.

Or was his body somewhere else, perhaps even somewhere within the manifold? The Hierarchy didn't say, and other Stewards he trusted to whom he whispered the question didn't know. If not the same subspace manifold, perhaps the even greater dimensional manifold the dissidents speculate about? The Hierarchy denied its existence, but mathematically, there was no reason to exclude the possibility.

Phstk turned an even darker shade of brown. He was letting his thoughts wander, and that was dangerous.

But universe 5582. He was briefly in contact with that universe through subject 7235. Might it be possible to return?

Phstk's eyes widened and the stalks moved closer to the display. His home planet was close to subject 7235's current position in that universe and timeline. A slight deviation to their current course would bring them there. It showed only a 0.73% probability of this happening, but he worked with lower probabilities before and achieved success. Of course, those were sanctioned incursions or confluences by the Hierarchy.

But 7235 was so close, and with subject 7234 on the same vessel.

It was a sign. A sign from the greater dimensional manifold.

He paused for a moment. It had been a long time. His planet and species were still there, but different. Would he be welcome? Was it even possible for him to return? The Hierarchy would turn against him if they discovered his plan. It would be dangerous, for himself as well as subjects 7234 and 7235. Stewards didn't return, that was doctrine. Even if he could, would the subjects in universe 5582 help him?

Phstk emitted a long hiss and whistle and pulled up the required information to his display console.

He was determined to find out.

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Author's Note: This might make more sense to you if you've read the second part of "Alternatives" (which is Phstk's full report for universe 5582) and perhaps the story "The River of Time." I posted the second chapter to this story simultaneously so you can see how C/7 indeed will figure prominently, although as you'll also see, there are a few twists ahead...

I've been wanting to include a non-humanoid as a central character in one of my stories, inspired by The Cheshire Cheese's inclusion of one in her story "The Bond". I started to in "Out of New Earth" with Ak, but then he didn't get any "lines." Oh well. Reviews are always welcome.