The terminal before Krev sputtered violently, scattering bits of charged glass and metal fragments into the air. Krev groaned, a dull pain throbbing in his skull as he struggled to stand up. His eyes fell upon Jalani’s motionless form on the floor nearby, and panic gripped him. “sh’za,” he called, his voice trembling. She didn’t move.

He carefully dragged himself across the floor of the Danube-class runabout, his finger trembling as he pressed it against her neck. A wave of relief washed over him, “a pulse,” he muttered under his breath. It was faint but there. Resting his head on her shoulder . “sh’za,” he urged, shaking her gently, “Jal, wake up.”

Krev forced himself to look around the broken craft. His memory was a haze; the last thing he could piece together was the cock pit being filled with a blaring alert. The sensors had detected something peculiar. He rubbed his throbbing temples; he couldn’t piece together the events. As Jalani stirred and began to moan, she reached out. “Krev,” she looked out into the smoke-filled cabin.

“There was something,” Krev murmured, clutching his head, determined to stand. He needed to see what was happening. He needed to ensure their safety.

“ch’te, you’re bleeding,” Jalani whispered, her voice barely audible. She glanced around the shattered cockpit, “Where are Talresh and Thalen?” She was clearly worried.

Krev looked at the terminal; it was dead.  He slammed his fist into what remained of the device. As his eyes began to focus, he looked out the nearby window, the fear filling his entire expression.  “Where are we?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Krev’s heart hammered in his chest as he scanned the wreckage around them. The Danube-class runabout was crippled and vulnerable. Jalani’s pale face, illuminated by emergency lights, mirrored his own fear. 

“We’re adrift,” Krev muttered, his voice hoarse. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he considered their dilemma. With no engines, no sensors, and minimal power, they were utterly at the mercy of whatever had caused this disaster. Outside the viewport, dark shadows hinted at unknown dangers in the void. Every creak of the damaged hull, every flicker of failing systems, strengthened the sense of impending doom. They were stranded, wounded, and lost.

[3 hours earlier] 

Tal strolled into the main area of the craft and plopped down on the sofa next to Jal. “Did I miss Krev’s meltdown? What is this, number four?” she teased.

Jal chuckled. “zh’yi, be nice. It’s not his fault; he’s a security officer, after all.”

A stern voice called from the cockpit. “I am not having a meltdown. I just don’t like that there will be no one to take care of you and Thal.” Krev set the autopilot and joined his bondmates for the midday meal.

The table in the center of the room held several replicated dishes: shaysha beetles, alardi partinna, and shevt’ak for dessert. Krev glanced at the others. “We’ve never been apart. This is hard for all of us.”

Thalen stood and placed a comforting hand on Krev’s back. “What our ch’te means is that he will miss you and me terribly,” Thal said, looking at Jal.

“Not enough to stay on Eos,” Jal retorted. “That was the plan, right?”

“Not this again,” Tal murmured. “Let’s move on, please.” Her tone expressed a plea as the group took their positions around the table. “We won’t have too many more meals like this. Can we please …”

“We’re fine zh’yi,” Thalen reassured her, embracing Tal. Their antennae entwined momentarily, and the room collectively sighed. The plan had been for the group to go to the station, but a call from Commander Tindal had changed everything.

“The Edison will still dock with the station periodically. We will never be that far apart,” Thalen smiled.

Just as one of the Andorians picked up a glass of mulled wine, the craft was filled with a red light, and klaxons blared a warning. They exchanged glances and sprang into action. Krev and Jal reached the cockpit first, but it was too late.

The computer had detected a massive energy surge nearby, leaving the Tyson little time to react. The craft jerked violently as Krev took his seat, sending Jal tumbling to the floor. The energy readings were alarming, and the gravimetric distortions were off the charts. Before Krev could respond, a portal appeared beneath the runabout.

“We’ve lost engines,” Krev shouted, unsure who he was talking to but desperate for someone to hear. “Rerouting all available power to shields,” he said as he sent out an automated distress call.  Suddenly, without warning, the terminal in front of him exploded.

Krev was knocked to the floor. He blinked a few times, but darkness began to overtake him. “Jal,” he managed to whisper before everything went black.

Moments later, from the back of the craft, Thal and Tal had managed to stay relatively safe, sustaining only a few bruises and bumps, but nothing serious. Making their way to the front of the runabout, Thal immediately got to work. Retrieving the medkit from the locker, he hurried over to Krev.

“No,” Krev pushed him aside, “tend to Jal first. I’m fine.”

“You’re stubborn. Now sit down, Doctor’s orders,” Thal insisted firmly. Then, turning to Tal, he said, “See to Jal, keep her steady and awake.”

Tal glanced outside the craft. “I can’t see a thing; it’s dark.”

Krev nodded, nearly forcing his way to his zh’yi. “I saw something out there. It was huge, massive. It was old, very old. We need a better idea of where we are, and we need Jal for that.”

Thal had moved on to Jal by this point, having given up on Krev. “She’s got a broken leg. We have no sensors and are running on auxiliary power. She needs more treatment than I can provide here. We need to move and find help.”

Tal sat up. “I realize I’m not the Engineer here, but with no shields, no sensors, and little power… If Krev is right and we hit some debris out there,” the zhen paused, “we won’t need to worry about separate assignments.”

Thalen snapped, “What do you expect us to do? Sit here and watch her die?”

Jal’s eyes widened. “What?”

Tal gently caressed Jal’s cheek. “Be still, sh’za,” she murmured. Reaching out with her other hand, she slapped Thalen’s leg. “Bedside manner, Doctor. Didn’t they teach you anything in the academy, th’se? Remember the…”

Thalen leaned forward, touching his forehead to Tal’s. “With the bond, we are Whole. Without the Whole, there is nothing.” He brushed a finger across Jal’s cheek. “You will be fine; your Doctor will see to that.”

“Now we wait and hope that whoever finds us is friendly,” Krev sighed.

Tal knelt beside Jal, gently adjusting the homemade splint they had fashioned for her broken leg. The small medical kit from the runabout’s emergency supplies had been grossly inadequate for their needs. However, they did what they could. Jal winced as Tal’s fingers brushed against her leg, but she didn’t complain.

“Easy, sh’za,” Tal whispered, her soothing voice trying to ease the pain. “I’m almost done. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Jal managed a weak smile. “You always were the best at tending to our wounds,” she forced a grin. “Just don’t tell Doctor Thalen that,” she said.

Tal’s antennae twitched in acknowledgment. She knew Jal was trying to keep the mood light, but the severity of her injuries made it almost impossible to focus her humor. The runabout had been reduced to a broken shell. With each groan of the hull or flicker of the emergency lights, they were reminded of the severity of their situation.

“Try not to move too much,” Tal advised calmly.  “We’ll get you out of here soon. Thalen and Krev are working on it.”

Jal nodded. She closed her eyes as she breathed through the pain. It was agonizing, even with the medication. However, she refused to give in. “I don’t want to slow us down,” she muttered. “If you all need to move, you need to leave me behind.”

“Don’t say that,” Tal replied harshly; her voice left no room for argument. “We’re not leaving anyone behind. We’re family, and family doesn’t do that.”

Jal focused her eyes directly on Tal, “You know how stubborn you sound, right? You’re going to start quoting Ambassador Spock, aren’t you?”

Tal tried to smile. “I learned from the best,” she said as she brushed a strand of hair from Jal’s face. “Now rest!”

They shared a brief moment of understanding; their bond had always been a source of strength.  Tal leaned closer, their antenna touching, “Rest,” she whispered. “I’ll keep watch, make sure those two don’t blow something up, or us,” she smirked, “we don’t want that.”

Jal’s eyes shut as she smiled. “Definitely not.” Her breathing slowed as exhaustion took over. Tal kept a watchful eye on her, monitoring her condition while the sounds of Krev and Thalen working in the cockpit provided some relief to the quiet. She wasn’tcertainn they knew what they were doing, but one didn’t dare interrupt them.

Minutes turned into hours as Tal maintained her quiet watch. She could feel the weight of their situation pressing down on her. They had been sucked into a portal and deposited who knows where. Their shuttle was damaged, and the worst part was Jal. Her zh’yi needed her.

Tal admired everyone’s ability to pull together. They were all equally lost, but they all rallied together. This wasn’t just Starfleet training; this was something more. As the hours crawled on, Jal stirred, her eyelids weakly opening again. “Tal,” she her voice seemed confused, “How long has it been?”

Tal didn’t have a chronometer to look at, so any answer was only a guess. But Jal didn’t need to know that. “A few hours,” she replied softly. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s like I got hit by a shuttlecraft,” Jal replied, a faint smile crossing her lips, “Any progress?”

Tal sighed, her antennae drooping slightly. “They’re working on it, you know how those two are? We’ll get out of here, I promise.”

Jal’s smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Tal, if something happens to me…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Tal interrupted firmly. “You’re going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine.”

Jal reached out, her hand shaking as it found Tal’s. “I just want you to know that I love you all. No matter what happens.”

Tal’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Jal’s hand gently. “And we love you, Jal. Don’t ever doubt that. We’re getting out of this together.”

A sudden clatter from the front of the runabout drew their attention. Thalen cursed under his breath as a panel sparked, sending a shower of blue light into the air. Krev quickly moved to assist him, their frustration evident.

“Thalen, what’s going on?” Tal called out, her voice tinged with worry.

Thalen wiped his brow, his expression grim. “The terminal’s a mess. We’re doing what we can, but it’s slow going. The damage is extensive. We fix one system and another one over loads. ”

Krev glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Tal’s. “Just keep Jal stable. We got this… I hope.”

Tal nodded, her confidence starting to fade a bit.

The hours continued to go by, each one feeling like an eternity. Tal maintained her watch over Jal, refusing to let fatigue take control. Suddenly, Tal noticed a change in Jal’s condition. Her breathing had become more strained as beads of sweat coated her pale skin. “Jal, stay with me,” Tal demanded, her voice dripping with concern. “You have to stay with me.”

Jal’s eyes opened, unfocused and glassy. “Tal… I’m… tired…”

“Don’t you dare give up,” Tal stated fiercely, her grip on Jal’s hand tightening. “You’re stronger than this. You have to hold on.”

Jal’s gaze moved, her eyes looking directly at Tal. Jal’s face was so calming that it sent a shiver down Tal’s spine. “Promise me… you’ll keep them safe,” she whispered.

Tears formed in Tal’s eyes as she nodded. “I promise, Jal. But you fight. We need you. I need you.”

Jal’s lips curved into a faint smile before her eyes closed again. Tal felt a surge of panic, and she couldn’t afford to lose control. Not now. “Thalen!” Tal screamed. “I need you in here now!”

Thalen rushed over, his face unable to hide the concern. Thalen knelt beside Jal, his medical training taking over as he assessed her condition.

“She’s deteriorating,” Thalen muttered, his voice strained. “We need to stabilize her, or she won’t make it.”

Krev entered the room and placed a reassuring hand on Tal’s shoulder. “We’re going to fix this,” he said firmly. This time, he didn’t sound so sure; it was more like he was trying to convince himself.

Tal nodded, “What do you need me to do?”

Thalen glanced at her, “Keep talking to her. Keep her awake. I need to get a more powerful sedative to ease her pain, but we have to keep her conscious.”

Tal leaned closer to Jal, her voice gentle but firm. “Jal, listen to me. You have to stay awake. Focus on my voice. Remember that time when we got caught in the storm?”

Jal’s eyes fluttered open, a faint spark of recognition flashing within them. “We… built a shelter… from the snow…”

“That’s right,” Tal said, “We huddled together for warmth and waited for the storm to pass. You kept us all laughing with your crazy stories.”

A weak chuckle escaped Jal’s lips. “I… remember…”

“Keep going,” Tal urged climbing onto the bed as she embraced Jal. “What happened next?”

Jal’s breathing steadied slightly. She continued to talk, her speech slow but steady.

Thalen returned with the sedative, administering it carefully. “This should help,” he said softly. “But we need to get her to a proper medical facility as soon as possible.”

Krev, who had been silent, spoke up. “I’ve managed to get partial power to the communication array. I hope! It’s enough to send a signal, but honestly…”

Tal shot him a look, silently urging him to stay positive.

Krev nodded. “Someone’s bound to pick it up; we just have to hold on.”

Tal nodded, her expression betraying her thoughts. They were far from safe, but they had to cling to hope. All they could do now was wait.

Krev and Thalen sat cross-legged on the cockpit floor, the emergency lights casting shadows across their faces. The container on the opposite side of the room was half-filled with broken pieces of metal, pieces of their failed repair attempts.

Krev picked up a small piece of metal and tossed it, hitting the container with a dull thud. “That’s another point for me,” he said, allowing a smile to form.

Thalen rolled his eyes and tossed his own piece, missing the container by mere inches. “You’re cheating,” he said, pouting. “I swear you’ve magnetized your side or something. Must you win at everything?”

“Just skill,” Krev replied. His usual bravado lacked punch. “You lost, so what are you going to mesmerize me with next?”

Thalen leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Alright, how about this,” he began to chuckle. As a hint of a grin appeared, he spoke, “Remember that time we were on Drava Prime?”

Krev started to laugh, and the memory formed; he leaned on Thalen’s shoulder.

“And Jal accidentally walked into the Ambassador’s quarters wearing nothing but a towel,” Thalen wrapped an arm around Krev. “Poor Jal,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Our poor sh’za didn’t live that down for weeks.”

Thalen laughed; however brief, the small bit of humor seemed to lift the tension. “She turned a shade of red. I didn’t think it was possible. I had to pull some serious strings to smooth that one over.”

Krev laughed harder, a genuine sound of amusement. “You were so smooth, real smooth.”

As their laughter faded, the silence returned, more apparent than before. The small moment of humor did little to hide the underlying despair. The runabout was still in shambles, and the chances of rescue seemed slim. Krev’s voice broke the silence. “We can’t keep doing this, th’se.” He rested his head on his bondmate’s shoulder. “We need a miracle.”

Thalen’s expression darkened; his earlier humor had faded. “We’ll get through this. We have to. For Jal.” He ran his free hand through Krev’s hair.

Krev nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, for Jal.” But the words lacked the confidence they previously had.

The two fell silent again, their eyes drifting to the empty space outside the cockpit window. Time seemed to stretch on forever, each second a reminder of their uncertain future. From the rear of the room, Tal walked in, wedging herself between the two. Her presence, usually so commanding, was subdued in the dim light. She sighed and glanced at the container filled with the reminders of their failed repairs. “You two still at it?”

Krev shrugged. “Keeps our minds busy.”

Tal nodded, appreciating their effort to maintain some form of normalcy. “Anything new on the scans?”

Thalen shook his head. “All we’ve managed to pick up is debris and more debris. Nothing. It’s like we’re the only ones out here.”

Silence settled over the group; it was heavy and almost suffocating. The hum of the runabout’s failing systems was the only sound. Tal leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment. She needed to think of a plan, something to fix this mess. But every plan she came up with seemed to lead to the same terrible conclusion.

Minutes passed. Krev and Thalen resumed their game of tossing metal pieces, the clanging sounds echoing through the cockpit. Tal watched them, the reality of their situation gnawing at her. She felt responsible for their predicament, for Jal’s fate. She had to find a way to make things right.

“Tal,” Thalen said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Got any stories to share?”

Tal opened her eyes, “Alright, how about this one? Remember our first mission together on New Corvax? The one where Krev tried to impress that local trader by juggling thermal detonators?”

Krev groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

Thalen laughed, the sound a welcome change from the depressing atmosphere. “Oh, I remember. You nearly blew us all to pieces.”

Krev lifted his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “In my defense, I had it under control.”

“Sure you did,” Tal replied, her smile widening. “Right up until the detonators started beeping.”

They all laughed. For a few moments, they were taken back to a time when their biggest worry was an awkward juggling act, not survival in the cold void of space. It was a needed break from the increasing tension, but it wouldn’t last.

However, reality quickly asserted itself again. The laughter faded, leaving behind the same gnawing fear. Tal stood up, pacing the small space. “It’s getting cold,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “There’s got to be something we can do, right?” As if in response to her request, Krev’s console beeped. 

Krev found himself holding his breath as he scrambled to check the readout. “Thalen,” he said, his voice tight with barely contained hope. “I’m picking up a signal. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

Thalen was at his side instantly, his eyes scanning the console. “Is it a ship?” A surge of adrenaline shot through Thalen, “Open a channel. Now.”

Krev looked at Thalen, “Are you kidding? We have no communications.  We hardly have sensors.”

There was a crackle of static; the group had hoped for a signal, for something.  But, their hopes were dashed as the only thing that came through was silence. Tal ran to the viewport, waving her arms frantically, hoping somehow that someone could see her.

Relief washed over Thalen as the ship seemed to be heading directly towards them.  “We’re saved,” he whispered, the words almost too good to be true.

Krev slumped back against the wall, his eyes closing in sheer relief. “About time,” he muttered.

Tal sat down, the weight of their ordeal finally lifting. She had hope for the first time in what felt like a long time. Jal was going to be fine, and more importantly, their family would be fine. The ship was their lifeline, and they were not about to let go.

Minutes stretched into what seemed like hours as they waited, the anticipation almost unbearable. They watched the console, eyes glued to the blinking signal representing their salvation. Finally, the sleek form of the civilian freighter, the Aventuras, appeared in the viewport, its lights cutting through the void like a beacon. Thalen let out a long breath; he hadn’t realized he was holding. “There they are,” he said.

The Aventuras docked with the runabout; the sound of the airlock hissing was music to their ears. Krev smiled. “We made it,” he said, a tear running down his cheek. “We actually made it.” He embraced Thalen.

As the crew of the Aventuras stepped into the runabout, gratitude overflowed. Captain Santiago, a stoic figure, looked over the weary Andorians. “Glad to see you all in one piece,” he said. He motioned for his crew to check the rest of the runabout. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The Andorians were helped onto the Aventuras, and their relief was clearly visible to all. Krev and Thalen shared a brief smile as the Aventuras crew assisted them in leaving the confines of the runabout. They soon found themselves on a repurposed Cardassian freighter. As Diego led them to the bridge, they looked out the windows, finally able to see just how vast Underspace was. It seemed to stretch out before them. Things were much more severe than their makeshift sensors on the Tyson had led them to believe.

Krev and Thalen stood beside the captain, their eyes fixed on the console. “Thank you,” Krev said, looking to the Captain, “I wasn’t sure we’d make it.”

Diego nodded. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said, his tone serious. “But we have a lead. There’s a signal we believe could be an aperture that will take us home.”

“My crew had been following that signal when we picked up your runabout. It’s a good thing we were in the area. Probably better that no one else was here, for your sake,” Diego muttered. Tal stood by the viewport, watching the shifting patterns of the strange realm they were trapped in. It was hard not to feel a mix of hope and fear. She hoped that they would find their way home, but what laid head and for Jal. Had their rescue come in time?

Jal, who had been unconscious for much of their ordeal, finally woke up. She looked around, confused but relieved to see her bondmates. “What happened?” she asked, her voice weak.

“We’re on the Aventuras,” Thalen said, sitting beside her and taking her hand. “Their doctor is on her way now.”

As the Aventuras navigated through Underspace, the tension on the bridge was thick. Krev and Thalen worked side by side with the crew. As hours passed, each problem only increased the tension. Suddenly, a warning beeped on the console. Tal’s eyes widened as she read the data. “Captain, I’m detecting an increase in tetryon particles,” she said. “It’s off the charts.”

Diego’s brow furrowed. “Where are they coming from?”

Tal shook her head. “I don’t know. But the tetryon particles are increasing rapidly, and it looks like they’re affecting the apertures. Several of them seem to be decreasing in size.”

Panic set in as the crew realized the implications. The apertures, their only way home, were closing, and they had no idea why. Diego took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “We need to find the closest aperture now,” he said. “We don’t have much time. Let’s pray it leads somewhere safe.”

Krev, Thalen, and Tal worked frantically alongside the civilian crew, their minds racing as they tried to piece together the puzzle. The tetryon particles were a mystery; every moment they delayed could be their last chance to escape Underspace.

Finally, Thalen’s console beeped. “I’ve got it,” he said excitedly. “There’s an aperture near us. It’s close.”

Diego nodded, looking to the Navigation Officer. “Set a course. Maximum speed.”

As the Aventuras surged forward, the tetryon particles continued to increase, but they were focused on the aperture, their only lifeline home. As they neared the aperture, the ship shook violently, the fabric of Underspace straining against their presence.

“Hold on!” Diego shouted as the Aventuras plunged into the aperture. The ship shuddered, the lights flickering as they traveled from Underspace back into normal space. Finally, the shaking stopped. The crew looked around, the familiar stars of their galaxy shining brightly outside the viewport. They had made it.

A collective sigh of relief filled the bridge. Krev and Thalen embraced, their ordeal finally over. Tal joined them. “We did it,” she whispered.

Captain Diego smiled. “Welcome home, Starfleet,” he said. “Now, let’s see if we can find a station.”

“Captain,” a voice could be heard from the crowd, “incoming transmission.”

“On screen,” Diego said, looking puzzled, hoping for the best.

As the viewscreen flickered to life, a voice came through, “Aventuras, this is the USS Edison. Do you require assistance?” AJ looked past the captain, noticing the three Andorians in Federation uniforms. “I see you found my missing crew,” he said, his look of relief very clear. “Captain, I suggest we all set a course for repairs at Eos Station. I know the captain there and can ensure you will be taken care of.”

“Captain, we have another Andorian currently in our medbay,” Diego replied, “our resources are limited.”

“Say no more,” AJ nodded to an officer off-screen. “We will beam my crew back over and follow you to Eos. Thank you, Captain.”

Diego nodded.

After the communications channel had ended, AJ looked to his Security Officer. ” Send word to Eos, let Captain Mitchell know we found the crew of the Tyson.” He paused. ” Make sure to let them know that we have a civilian ship in need of assistance.”

“Set course for the station, warp 5,” AJ commanded as he settled into the command chair. “Let’s see if we can assist with these Klingons.” He leaned back, attempting to make sense of the unfolding situation. Apertures, portals, underspace; the entire phenomenon was baffling. He couldn’t grasp why Starfleet was so intent on studying it. To him, the potential dangers outweighed any benefits. But then again, that’s probably why he wasn’t a science officer.

His thoughts drifted to the crew’s safety. Despite the confusion, he knew one thing for sure: his primary duty was to protect his people. As they headed off to Eos, he resolved to stay vigilant, ready to tackle whatever problems lay ahead. Starfleet’s fascination with the unknown might be beyond his understanding, but he trusted his gut. Strange phenomenon took second place.