Banfield offered her guests an additional glass of Antarian cider, filling the beverage almost to the top of their empty glasses.

“Captain Banfield, I must extend my warmest thanks again for such a lovely meal and evening,” spoke their guest sitting on the opposite side of the table. 

Smiling politely at him, Banfield placed the bottle of cider down. “I’m glad we could do it, Captain Denaren.”

Captain Denaren was a Serosian trader they met while searching for sources of deuterium, dilithium, and other valuable resources on which the Odyssey Squadron could depend on to restock. Denaren had agreed to act as a mediator between Banfield and a local Serosian mining consortium for a modest fee. After a successful exchange in gaining enough dilithium crystals to keep the squadron moving for another five years, she invited Denaren and a few of his crew to join her, Jen and Westerham for an evening meal. 

The Serosians were humanoids who operated near to where the Triton was surveying. Before engaging with them further, Banfield had accessed the Voyager database to determine who they were. From what she had read, they were a relatively peaceful race. The only time Voyager had encountered them was after rescuing one of their ships after a malfunctioning hologram murdered its crew. Denaren had assured Banfield that their isomorphs were fixed since that incident. As such, since then, their rapport had developed into a strong working one over the last few days.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve shared the peaceful interaction and exchange we’ve had with my government, and I recommended that they engage in further dealings with your people,” Denaren said as he raised his glass in a somewhat toasting style. 

“Well, we appreciate that,” Banfield said as she copied his action before sipping her cider. 

“Dessert, anyone?” Westerham offered as he walked from the kitchenette area towards the table. 

The entire meal had been set up in the captain’s private dining room with Banfield’s husband, Westerham, who insisted on cooking for them. He had organised an elaborate three-course meal ending with his signature dessert: “Thalian chocolate mousse.” He came round and gave everyone a small glass dish with the creamy dessert. 

“Carter, are you sure you don’t want to leave engineering and become our cook?” Jen asked with a smirk. “Thalian chocolate is one of my favourites.”

Banfield thanked her husband as he passed her dish to her. “If you think this is good, ask him to make you a Ktarian chocolate puff,” She remarked to her first officer.

“This is exquisite, commander,” Denaren said after finishing his first spoonful of the dessert. “You must share your recipe.”

Westerhum chuckled as he sat down next to Banfield to eat his mousse. “I’m sure we can arrange another exchange.”

Liking the engineer’s approach, Denaren took another load in before asking Westerham what his price would be. “Let me guess; you want a brand new plasma injector?” he guessed.

Westerham shook his head. “Far from it; we’ve got plenty of those in storage,” he considered the Serosian momentarily. How about a bit more of that local knowledge?”

“What do you have in mind?” Denaren asked, sounding intrigued by Westerham’s request.

“Gallicite,” Westerham replied. “We’d like to get our hands on at least twenty kilotons.”

“Twenty?” 

“Twenty,” Westerham confirmed. 

Denaren placed his spoon into his glass dish as he considered the request. “That’s quite a bit.”

“We’ve got a good number of ships to maintain, captain,” Banfield said. 

“I won’t be able to give it to you, as I don’t have access to that amount, but I can send it to you in the direction of where I know there’s an untouched source,” Denaren said.

“Sir, you can’t!” One Denaren’s officer said to him. She was his first officer and pilot. 

He raised his hand at her to stop. Denaren picked up his glass of cider. “It’s on an asteroid close to an unusual phenomenon.”

“How unusual?” Banfield probed.

“Sensors or communication can’t penetrate it, but an energy barrier keeps whatever is on the opposite side in and everything else out,” Denaren explained. “My people call it The Veil. From what we know, no one who has gone in has come out. It’s a mystery that has intrigued our scientists for generations.”

“And this asteroid, it’s nearby?” Jen checked.

“It’s almost sitting on its lap, but nothing in our fleet has powerful engines to keep itself from being pulled into The Veil,” Denaren added. The Triton or one of your other ships may be able to get close enough.”

“And this source of gallicite would have enough for us?” Westerham checked.

Denaren nodded. “Oh yes, and more so.”

“It is a dangerous area of space,” Denaren’s first officer stated. “You must be careful.”

“She’s right, and I would hate to see anything happen to any of you; it just depends on how desperate you are for this gallacite?”

Banfield looked at Jen first and then at her husband. “It’s your recipe, Carter,” she said.

Liking the idea, Carter nodded towards Denaren. “However, you’d need to provide us with all your information on the asteroid and The Veil.” 

“Of course,” Denaren agreed as he extended his hand to shake Westerham’s. “It’s a deal!”

Pleased they had reached another accord with Denaren, Banfield asked her guests if they wanted anything else. Denaren turned the offer down. “No, captain, your hospitality has been superb. We should return to our ship and make preparations to get underway.”

“Then let us show you to the transporter room,” Banfield said, standing up from her chair and placing her servette on the table before her.

Minutes later, Banfield and the others had escorted Denaren and his crew to the transporter room. 

“Well, once again, Captain Denaren, thank you,” Banfield said.

“It’s been a pleasure, Captain Banfield.” Denaren grinned. He turned to Westerham, “Do not worry, commander. We will send everything over before we leave.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Westerham stated. 

Once they were all on the transporter platform, Banfield ordered the transporter chief to energise. Her guests soon disappeared and left the Triton. Turning to the other two, she sighed. “That went really well,” Banfield meant it. “I’ll speak with the commodore in the morning about this asteroid.” She gestured for them to leave the transporter room.

“You seriously want to take a look?” Jen probed, placing his hands behind his back as he walked beside Banfield.

“I do, Lukiz,” Banfield confirmed. “Plus, this Veil sounds like an interesting phenomenon to study.”

“It sounds dangerous, ma’am,” Jen pointed out. “His first officer seemed quite concerned about sharing its existence with us.”

“I’m not saying we enter it, but there’s nothing wrong in us taking a look,” Banfield stated. “Surely?”

The inner scientist in her was fascinated by it. Since entering the Delta Quadrant on the Triton, Banfield was itching to explore something new that Voyager hadn’t touched. This Veil sounded like the right place to start. Jen or Westerham didn’t answer Banfield. Their silence said it all. She knew that both of them shared a similar concern; despite this, she was prepared to take the risk. Instead of saying anything more, Jen and Westerham followed her to the nearest turbolift. 

“In the meantime, we call it a night so we can prepare ourselves for our departure in the morning,” Banfied told them as they entered the lift.

“That sounds good to me,” Westerham said. “Especially since someone has some pots and pans to clean up!” He looked at his wife with a smirk.

“Nah, I’m too tired for it; I’ll get someone else to clean it up,” Banfield replied.

Westerham shook his head. “I’m sure you’ve got lazy since becoming a captain!”

“No, Carter, she’s just using the captain’s prerogative!” Jen chuckled as the turbolift doors closed on them.

“Damn right, I am!” Banfield stated before calling for the computer to take them back to their quarters. 

“The Triton?” Westerham was surprised to hear this news from his wife. 

After the briefing with Fleet Admiral Duncan and McCallister’s stunt in reassigning her to the Triton in the middle of a corridor without much choice, Banfield caught up with her husband in a Klingon restaurant called “The House of Korath’s Kitchen.” D-S-19 had a diverse range of restaurants, cafes, bars, and nightclubs. They had decided to meet here for lunch, and while Korath had given them the freshest raktajino Banfield had in ages, they were now waiting for their Rokeg blood pie. 

“What? I couldn’t really say no,” Banfield explained.

“Did you try?” Westerham quizzed. “I thought you said commanding a starship was never in your plans.”

Sighing as she placed her coffee mug down, Banfield nodded. “I did,” she paused. “However, Carter, since Frontier Day and what we’ve experienced in the Delta Quadrant, it’s made me re-think everything. Are you annoyed with me?”

Smiling at her, Westerham shook his head and took her left hand into his. “Not at all, my par’Mach’kai.”

Leaning back into her chair, Banfield picked her coffee back up. “Good, because when I was walking to meet with you, I was cursing myself for making a mistake. I know everything that you’ve gone through and what it means for the kids.”

Westerham burst out into laughter. “Besides Logan, our other two are no longer kids. They’re young adults who are thriving as cadets. Athena and Brook will probably love that we’ve moved to the Triton.”

Banfield sat up straight as she heard what her husband had just said. “We?”

He nodded. “I’m assuming you’ll need a chief engineer?” 

With her free hand, Banfield picked up a PADD on the table she had brought and showed him how empty the ship’s roster was. “Yes, I do.”

“Then sign me up,” Westerham said. “Plus, the Triton is a Luna-class ship. I’m sure its layout hasn’t significantly changed over the years. I’m at home if she’s anything like the Oberon.”

Appreciating his support, Banfield picked up Westerham’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, Carter. This means a lot to me. Talking of the Oberon, guess who was at the briefing?”

Westerham shrugged his shoulders. “Who?”

“Captain Zack Marshall-Bennet,” she replied. “The Destiny is being assigned to the squadron, too.”

Surprised to hear that, Westerham was taken aback by that news. “I thought after they found him at Avalon, he was offered the chance to return to his Changeling doppelganger’s rank and position?”

 She nodded. “They did, but Bennet declined it. Deciding to remain a captain and take back the Destiny after its captain was killed during Frontier Day. He saw me briefly after the meeting and told me that taking back control of the Destiny’s bridge did him good.”

For a moment, Westerham considered her words. “I think taking back control of an engineering room will do me good,” Westerham claimed. “I love working with Tierra on the Odyssey, but I think I’m ready to get back to being the Chief Engineer again.”

Pleased to hear that, Banfield smiled. “I think the same, my love,” She said, supporting him with his choice. “And I also want you to be second officer. I’d have you as my first officer, but you know how Starfleet feels about that.”

He nodded in response. “So, who will be your first officer?” Westerham asked. 

“I’m going to ask Lukiz Jen,” Banfield answered.

“Really?” He said, sounding surprised like he did at the start of their conversation.

Nodding, Banfield explained her reasons. “He’s ready for the next chapter, and I feel for him. Don’t get me wrong, Tomaz and Flemen are amazing command officers, and there are others, but if Max is taking command of the Odyssey, I don’t want to leave the Odyssey with a shortage in its chain of command. Plus, I think the new commodore will depend on them more in his new role.”

“Lukiz is a good guy,” Westerham agreed. He is level-headed, calm, respectful, and loyal—all good qualities to have in a first officer.”

“Plus, he will tell me how it is,” Banfield added.

“He will?” 

“He will,” she nodded. “The first time we met, I was a bit too blunt with him, and he countered back with a fair, measurable and honest response.”

“Well, have you asked him yet?” Westerham probed.

Banfield took a breath and shook her head. “Not yet, but I did reserve him from anyone else trying to steal him.”

Westerham chuckled. “Go ask him now.”

“No, we’re having lunch.” She insisted.

“No, go get your new first officer,” Westerham insisted.

Banfield sat there for a few seconds, considered her husband’s words, and then accepted he was right. “Okay, but this won’t take long. Tell Korath to hold fire with the blood pie.”

She placed her napkin on the table and got up to find Jen. “Computer locate Commander Lukiz Jen.”

“Commander Jen is in The Estate.” 

Enjoying a quiet picnic in the station’s massive arboretum, Jen sat on a blanket with Rosle opposite him. She was trying to throw grapes into his mouth, but he was missing them. 

“One more,” Jen insisted as he swallowed a grape he had just picked up from the blanket. 

 Rosle shook her head. “No, you’re hopeless at this,” She returned as she popped a grape into her mouth. 

They both laughed at each other before he rolled over and kissed her gently on the lips. 

“This is perfect,” Rosle insisted. The starfighter pilot smiled at her boyfriend. “I can’t believe we can’t stay here any longer.”

“I don’t know. We’ve got a day before we head back to the Delta Quadrant. We could always book a hotel room and spend the day doing nothing.”

Rosle kissed him back. “That sounds nice, but you and I both know that we can’t neglect our duties, especially with a new captain.”

He sighed heavily. “You’re right, and it wouldn’t be fair for us to abandon Max.”

Kissing him again, Rosle smiled at him. “You are too good,” She insisted. “I don’t think I could serve under my ex’s new husband.”

Looking at her, Jen smiled. “Well, I don’t need to worry about such things as I’ve got you now.”

“I know, but you can’t deny it’s a bit awkward. I mean, you and Tobias were together.”

“That was a lifetime ago,” Jen exaggerated. “And we ended that relationship after I was joined. I was a different person then. We’re just friends now.” He paused as he looked deeply into her eyes. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? Ha! Never Lukiz Jen!” Rosle playfully slapped him on his chest. “Now, don’t get me wrong, Commander Tobias Court is handsome, and he has those come-to-bed eyes and lush, kissable lips-”

“Wait a second. Should I be the one worried here?” Jen interrupted. “I mean, I thought you said you liked my eyes and lips.”

“Oh, they’re in a completely different league above Commander Court’s,” Jen complimented him as she kissed him again. This time, she placed her hand on his neck and pulled him closer to her. Forcing herself on top of him as he pulled her closer into their embrace. They were lost in their world as their lips continued to move against one another when they heard a strong cough nearby. Reacting quickly, Rosle rolled herself off Jen, and both saw Captain Corella Banfield standing above them. With the same speed as getting off from him, Rosle and Jen sorted themselves out to be more presentable to their superior officer. Both of them had unzipped their uniform jackets to enjoy their picnic lunch. 

“Captain, is everything okay?” Rosle asked as she stood up. Jen followed a second later.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch,” Banfield said, looking down at the picnic before looking back at them. “But I need to speak to Lukiz. In private.”

Jen shot a look at Rosle and then back to Banfield. “Of course, ma’am,” He stated, sounding more professional. 

Banfield indicated for them to take a walk through the vast park. 

“I am sorry for intruding back there, Lukiz,” Banfield said sincerely.

“It’s fine, ma’am, but I hope you don’t think Commander Rosle and I were being inappropriate.”

She chuckled at him. “Lukiz, be at ease. You can speak freely, and for the record, that doesn’t bother me. You’re not on duty, and if you two decide to pursue a relationship, it’s no one else’s business but yours.”

“Thank you, captain,” Jen said after a brief sigh.

Walking up to a park bench, Banfield insisted they sat down. “I don’t want to keep you for too long, but I must ask you a favour of you.”

Sitting comfortably, Jen nodded. “Of course, anything.”

“I’ve been made captain of the Triton,” Banfield said, smiling.

“That’s great news, ma’am; congratulations,” Jen said, genuinely excited for her.

“Thank you,” she replied before taking a deep breath. “I want you as my first officer, Lukiz.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jen said, stunned.

“You heard me.”

“Me? First Officer?” Jen said as he digested that. “Me, first officer of the Triton.”

“Surprised?” Banfield asked him.

He nodded. “That’s putting it mildly.” Jen looked down at the floor and then at the huge lake in the middle of The Estate. “Why me?” He asked, looking at her. 

“Why not?” Banfield countered. “Look, Lukiz, I think we would make an excellent team. I want you and no one else.”

“I’m honoured, ma’am, I really am,” Jen said, realising how this could all change his life. He then looked over to where they had come from. Rosle was out of earshot of their chat, and she was just sitting there waiting for him to return. She waved at him, and he smiled back at her. 

“I get it that things could change for you,” Banfield said, noticing him looking at Rosle. “So if you need time to think about it, to talk about it with others, then do. I need an answer soon, though, as I want someone to help me assemble a crew in less than two days.”

Jen took a breath and turned his attention back to Banfield. “I’ll do it.” He said easily. 

USS Triton (NCC-80106), Swallow Nebula Region, Delta Quadrant 

Stardate: 78773.41 – Present Day

Jen woke up early, feeling the pull of responsibility tugging at him even before his eyes fully opened. Since taking on the role of first officer, the weight of his new position was something he carried with him constantly. Determined to set a strong example and maintain his fitness, he had started a routine of early morning gym sessions. 

Now dripping with sweat from his workout, Jen entered his quarters, the brisk hum of the ship’s air conditioning cooling his skin. He peeled off his damp vest and shorts, letting them drop to the floor, and went to the sonic shower. The gentle hum of the shower enveloped him as he activated it, feeling the soothing, invisible waves of sound cleaning away the grime and fatigue.

As he stood under the calming streams, Jen’s mind drifted to the day ahead. The Triton was about to reach the edge of The Veil, a phenomenon that had intrigued and worried him in equal measure. His past hosts, former Starfleet officers whose experiences now lived within him, whispered in his mind, urging calm and focus. The Veil was an enigma, a potentially dangerous area of space that could challenge the ship and crew. It was his duty to ensure their safety.

The computer’s voice cut through his thoughts. “The time is oh-seven-fifteen hundred hours.”

Jen sighed; his moment of tranquillity shattered. He had set himself an alarm to make sure he was done before leaving his quarters. Jen stepped out of the shower, water droplets still clinging to his skin, and wrapped a towel around his waist. His desktop console chimed just as he was about to reach for his uniform.

Curious and slightly annoyed at the interruption, he accepted the call. The screen flickered to life, revealing Rosle, his girlfriend, calling from the Odyssey, his old ship.

“Good morning, Commander,” she greeted with a mischievous smile. “You look sexy all wet and just in a towel.”

Jen felt his cheeks flush, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He sat down at his desk with just his towel covering his body. “Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Rosle. Why are you calling so early?”

She laughed, the sound like a melody he missed hearing in person. “I heard the Triton was heading into an area that might interfere with communications. I wanted to check in before that happened.”

Jen nodded, appreciating her concern. “Yes, The Veil. We’re unsure what we’ll find, but we might lose contact for a while.”

Rosle’s expression softened. “Just wanted to hear your voice before you disappear.”

“I wish we could talk longer,” Jen said, the words filled with genuine regret. “But I’ve got a breakfast briefing with Captain Banfield.”

Rosle sighed, blowing him a kiss through the screen. “Stay safe out there, Lukiz. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he replied softly, feeling the pang of distance. “Take care.”

As the screen went dark, Jen stood for a moment, the emptiness of his quarters suddenly more profound. He took a deep breath, pushing aside the longing to be with Rosle, and turned to get dressed. 

“How was the workout?” Banfield asked her first officer as he entered the dining room, which was reserved for her use and her guests only. She stood by one of the counters and poured raktajino into three mugs—one for herself, one for Jen, and one for her husband, who sat at the long table in the middle of the room. 

Jen smirked at her as he walked over. “I swear CJ is built like a Probert-class station,” He chuckled, speaking about their chief flight control officer. “I’ve never known anyone who barely breaks a sweat when they are training. The guy could probably pick up a runabout with his little finger.”

Westerham focused on a PADD in his hands and looked up at Jen. “He is henched.”

“Henched isn’t what I’d call it,” Jen replied. “He’s beyond being jacked or buff. I swear he has a twelve-pack on his abs.”

“You should ask him to let you count them!” Banfield said, laughing a bit, as she passed the Klingon coffee to her right-hand man. 

Shaking his head before sipping his drink, Jen told her why he wouldn’t do that. “First off, I don’t want anyone else claiming any harassment for him, plus I fear he would let me. He is one of the nicest, sweetest guys I’ve ever known.” He sipped the coffee before walking to his usual chair and pulling it out. “And I don’t mean he’s green or naive in any way.”

“I know what you mean,” Banfield said after giving her husband his drink before she sat down at the head of the table. “He has a really soft soul, someone who is polite, kind, respectable and just generally-”

“A nice guy!” Jen and Banfield said in unison before laughing more. 

“I’ve always had good experiences with anyone who is a Merp,” Westerham said, placing his PADD down and picking up his drink. “Their manners are impeccable, and they are always joyful. Where does the nickname CJ come from, anyway?”

“From Thamas,” Jen replied, referring to their chief operations officer. “Besides being workout buddies, they were roommates back at Starfleet Academy, and they’ve been best friends since. Apparently, Thamas gave it to him when they were on their zero-g survival training, as Curly is actually named after his father, Curly Merp the First.”

“Making CJ, Curly Merp Junior, or Curly Junior, hence CJ,” Banfield stated.

“Thamas is almost as ripped as CJ,” Jen stated as he took a piece of toast that was in the middle of the table. “They literally egg each other on to do more when they’re lifting weights or doing laps of the swimming pool.”

“Well, I suppose Doctor Nicus would be happy that most of the senior staff are in good shape,” Westerham stated.

Jen looked at Westerham. “Nicus was asking when he would see those shield modulations ahead of us approaching The Veil. He wants to ensure the inoculations he is preparing for the cetacean members will prevent them from becoming ill from the possible radiation that Captain Denaren shared with us.”

“Don’t worry. Our Saurian chief medical officer will have it waiting for him when he reports for duty this morning,” Westerham assured him. “I finished off the upgrades late last night.”

As he sat between Banfield and Westerham, Jen looked at the captain. “I thought you guys were going to call it an early night yesterday?”

Banfield nodded. “We were, but someone,” she looked at her husband, “wanted to review the data package that Denaren sent us.”

“Hey, I wanted to get ahead of ourselves,” Westerham replied with a smirk, knowing that his wife was teasing him for working late yesterday. “Anyway, I didn’t hear anyone complaining that she could go and enjoy some Mok’bara in private.” 

Banfield shot him a warning look, forcing Jen to chuckle at their romantic tiff.

“Lukiz, if anything, you could always see if CJ and Thamas want to join the captain for a Mok’bara session,” Westerham said. “She’s tried to teach it to me for years, but I don’t have the patience for it.”

“Mok’bara requires focus,” Banfield insisted. “Anyway, if it doesn’t involve a boxing ring or a baseball bat, my husband isn’t interested.”

“Now, kids, don’t make me come between you two,” Jen joked, causing the other two to laugh too. “That said, I’m sure the crew would enjoy a session of Mok’bara led by their captain.”

Banfield looked at her husband with a slight sneer. “Now look at what you’ve done,” She said sarcastically. “Thanks!”

“I love you too, my par’mach’kai!” Westerham replied as the holographic stewards entered with their breakfasts. 

Once they were served their food, Banfield had taken a piece of her poached egg and was about to put it in her mouth as she spoke to Jen. “Is Jisaraa ready to launch those surveillance probes?”

Jen nodded as he finished what was in his mouth. “She is,” He replied. “They’ll be launched twenty minutes before we arrive.”

“Good,” Banfield said as she cut up her bacon. “I don’t want someone appearing from nowhere when we can’t use our sensors near this phenomenon.”

“T’Liana and Thamas said they’ll work out a filtering solution for the sensors once we’re closer. CJ suggested having a runabout crew remain out of the interference as a communication relay,” Jen shared.

“Wow, was this all discussed in the gym this morning?” Banfield remarked.

Jen nodded. “T’Liana and Counsellor Solis were having an early morning fencing session.”

“Fencing?” Banfield repeated. “Roberto and T’Liana were fencing?”

Banfield nodded. “After they finished, Bobby and I were chatting about crew morale while on the treadmill.”

“Sounds like most of my senior staff meetings need to be happening at four am and in the gym,” Banfield said as she picked up her mug of coffee. “Anyway, tell CJ to hold off on the runabout idea. Once we’ve approached the asteroid, we don’t know how many of them we will need to help mine the gallacite.”

“Understood,” Jen said before cutting up his food. “Oh, and if you want to join us for an early morning jog, most of us will try to do one tomorrow.”

“I swear if these early morning sessions lead to a mutiny, I will have you all walk the plank!” Banfield insisted with a smirk. 

Jen knew she was joking; over the last week, he had learnt her humour more than in the past year. He knew she was happy her new senior staff were getting along well. Jen only hoped that their upcoming mission didn’t spoil the buzz that now existed across the Triton. 

Everything had to go well. 

“Sensor filtering update system is operational,” announced Lieutenant Thamars. His tall and athletic build was accentuated by the fitted uniform he wore. Golden blond hair framed his face, styled in a way that seemed meticulously arranged and naturally tousled, giving him a youthful yet sophisticated look. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, carried a glimmer of mischief. Beneath his chiselled cheekbones, his smile was bright and infectious, revealing perfectly aligned teeth. He turned to the side, hoping to get some sort of reaction from the Vulcan beside him. “Am I good, or am I good?” He confidently asked her, eagerly awaiting her response.

T’Liana looked from her science station on the bridge and up at the tall, broad-shouldered Betan. “The updates are sufficient, lieutenant.” 

“Thanks, T’Liana,” He winked at her and closed the panel that he had just finished working on. “Go ahead, give it a go.”

“‘Give it a go’?” T’Liana questioned. 

“Your scan of the Veil,” Thamars said as he rolled his eyes and crossed the bridge towards the ops station.

“Ah, yes,” T’Liana understood as she started the first scan. 

“Bridge to Captain Banfield,” spoke Lieutenant Merf at the helm. “We’re approaching the edge of the Veil now.”

“On our way,” Banfield answered. 

As Thamars took his seat, he looked at his friend at the helm. “CJ, are you and me still on for saving the old N-X-Oh-One later?”

Merf chuckled and nodded. “Hell, yeah, let’s take on the Xindi and help Captain Archer save Earth!”

Lieutenant Jisaraa was sat in the captain’s chair and chuckled at hearing the conversation between the chief operations officer and chief helm officer. “Are you two ever going to leave your twenty-second-century fantasy? You do know the holonovel is exactly that. It’s not completely based on true events.”

Thamars spun on his chair and looked at the Orion woman. “There’s always room for a third if you wanna join us, lieutenant.”

Jisaraa shook her head. “No thanks, I wouldn’t wanna get in between your fixation with a certain Vulcan science officer.”

“I beg your pardon?” T’Liana interjected. Her left eyebrow was raised.

“T’Pol,” Tharmas clarified. “You know Commander T’Pol, the first Vulcan to join the Earth Starfleet.”

“Indeed, she was quite remarkable, especially after her tenure on the Enterprise. Especially during her first mission as capt—”

“T’LIANA!” Thamars and Merf both shouted in unison.

“Don’t spoil it,” Thamars stated. “CJ hasn’t played the holonovel out completely!”

“Surely he is aware of her achievements from early Starfleet history?” T’Liana questioned. “Her achievements are well documented on Vulcan.”

“No, I chose the Pike era for my early Starfleet history studies,” Merf replied. He turned to Thamars. “He had great hair; we should do that next. You’d make an excellent young Kirk.”

Nodding and agreeing, Thamars chuckled. “I’ve always fancied myself as a Kirk-style of guy! Don’t get me wrong, I love Pike, but I think I’m more of a Kirk fanboy.”

The doors to the aft turbolift then opened, allowing Captain Banfield, Commanders Jen and Westerham to follow her out onto the bridge. Banfield’s eagerness to get on with the next stage of their mission was apparent in her strides. 

“Report,” Banfield said sternly as she walked down the curved ramp towards the centre of the room.

“We’re holding at a safe range away from the edge of The Veil,” Merf stated from the helm. 

Jisaraa stood as she relinquished the centre chair to her incoming superiors. “The asteroid with the gallicite is straight ahead of us, ma’am. There are no other ships in the area. We are completely alone.”

Settling into her chair, Captain Banfield looked at what the viewscreen showed them. It consisted of a giant asteroid in the middle ahead of massive swirls of purple and pink gases. “T’Liana, what are our sensors telling us what The Veil is?”

“It resembles thermobaric barriers; however, I am also detecting strong gamma and thermal emissions,” T’Liana reported. 

“Jisaraa, should we be worried about our shields?” Jen asked over his left shoulder.

“No, it’s nothing our shields can’t handle,” She replied. “However, I am detecting false vacuum fluctuations that I suggest we avoid.”

“Agreed,” T’Liana stated. “Our probes are detecting several other elements that are creating the energy barrier. Permission to undertake an in-depth analysis, ma’am?” 

Banfield, the ever scientist, agreed wholeheartedly. “Absolutely; conduct whatever scans you need. I’d be interested to see what you discover.”

“Where do we stand with retrieving the gallicite extraction?” Jen asked aloud.

Westerham was taking the lead on that project. He had sat himself at the engineering station. “If these readings are correct, we’re looking at a yield of nearly ten kilotons. That’s plenty to put into reserve storage for the entire squadron.”

“Captain Denaren said he wasn’t aware of anyone else claiming the asteroid, but can we just check?” Banfield asked. 

“I’m not seeing any buoys or artificial structures to suggest otherwise,” Jisaraa declared after looking at her sensor readings one more time. The holographic display in front of her blinked several times, stating nothing was out of the ordinary. “I’m not detecting any engine emissions either.”

“All right, let’s plant the flag,” Banfield said, content they were not trespassing. 

Jen looked over at Westerham. “Commander, how much drilling will we need to do to get to the gallacite?”

“I’d like to run more scans first, find the richest concentration and then put a plan together,” Westerham replied. 

Banfield looked at her husband. “Carter, the project is all yours. Use whatever resources or personnel you need.”

“Aye, captain,” Westerham said confidently. “I’d appreciate it if we could get a bit closer to the asteroid. Say, one hundred thousand kilometres.”

“You heard him, CJ, ahead full thrusters only,” Jen said supportively for Westerham towards Merf. 

“Yes, sir,” Merf replied, pushing the Triton closer to their target.

“One of the probes is reporting in, captain,” T’Liana stated. Her intrigue into The Veil had grabbed her focus entirely now, and this was met when Banfield got out of her chair and joined her at the science station. 

Standing just behind her, Banfield read over her shoulder. “Fascinating,” She stated. “The Veil’s exotic particles are the source of what is disrupting both sensor and communication, and the high-dense plasma clouds within the thermobaric barriers are emitting strong electromagnetic radiation.”

“It would appear everything we detected earlier, along with these new readings, would indicate that somehow the mixture of so many particles is creating the energy barrier to exist,” T’Liana added. “I would hypothesise that the subspace anomalies keep it stable.”

“I think you’re right; look at these readings,” Banfield pointed to another set of graphs being produced. “This here may tell us there’s a quantum flux at play here; the fabric of space-time itself is in constant fluctuation.”

“As you said, captain,” T’Liana looked over her right shoulder, “fascinating.”

Banfield smirked and nodded in agreement. “Even something like the Briar Patch or the Bajoran Badlands does not compare to this.”

“If you do not mind, ma’am, I may take this to astrometrics and use its systems to understand The Veil’s properties further. I would very much like to see if there is any way we can scan beyond it,” T’Liana requested. 

“Of course, go ahead,” Banfield said excitedly for her chief science officer. 

As T’Liana got out of her chair, the ship suddenly jerked to port, then starboard before rolling forward. The stress these high-energy moves put on the Triton pushed everyone to fall out of their chairs as internal dampeners were overloaded. 

The red alert klaxon bleared through the ship as Banfield struggled to return to her chair. “Report!” She bellowed.

“A sudden surge of gravimetric energy has been unleashed from The Veil directly in our path towards the asteroid,” Jisaraa reported as she tried to hold onto her console. “We are being pulled in towards the anomaly.”

“Inertial dampers are offline. I’m losing control. Hold on!” Merf shouted from the helm.

“Full reverse thrusters,” Jen ordered as he pulled himself to his seat.

Merf shook his head. “It’s no use, sir; the surge is too powerful.”

“Can we go to warp?” Banfield asked as she slumped herself in her seat.

“We can’t create a stable warp bubble,” Westerham answered. “Impulse engines won’t engage either.”

“Inertial dampers are still offline,” Thamars replied. “I am unable to transfer any backup power.”

“Reset IDF baseline and reinitialise,” Jen commanded.

“Field processors coming back online with minimum power. Inertial dampeners are restored partially,” Thamars stated; his frustration at the ship’s systems was now evident in his tone.

“Captain, I can’t stop us; we’re going in!” Merf announced with worry and caution.

“Transfer all available power to shields,” Banfield ordered before tapping the ship-wide intercom. Her voice soon echoed across every section and every deck. “All hands, brace for impact!”

The Triton continued to viciously spin out of control as it flew past the asteroid and towards the edge of The Veil. Systems were failing, and the ship was shuddering as it approached its unintended destination. A massive white explosion erupted as it hit the energy barrier at full speed.  

 The Triton was gone. 

“Report!” Banfield said after she pushed herself up from the floor of the bridge. Looking around, she saw that the ship’s emergency systems were engaged as everyone started to steady themselves back on their feet and retake their stations. Pushing a stray lock of hair back into position, Banfield made herself presentable again.  

“We have passed through whatever that energy barrier was,” replied CJ, who just got himself back at the helm. The soft-spoken Merp pushed his curly blue locks back into his normal style as he checked over his stations. “We are reading an all-stop. Internal dampeners are fully operational again.”

“Main power is being restored now,” announced Westerham as he checked the engineering readings. “No hull damage sustained. I can’t see any damage.”

“Shields are at full power. The entire tactical array is operational, too,” Jisaraa stated from her station.

“Sensors are coming back online as well,” T’Liana reported. “I’m preparing a full sensor sweep.”

“Ship-wide diagnostics indicate we are fully operational, captain,” Thamars added, his fingers flying over the console. “All systems are green; no anomalies detected.”

“Whatever pulled us in, we’re lucky with results,” Jen remarked as Banfield sat back in her chair. The crew’s shared relief was palpable.

“Bridge to sickbay. Doctor Nicus, are there any injuries?” Banfield inquired, her voice reflecting her deep concern for the crew’s well-being.

“Nothing significant to report, captain, just a few bumps and bruises.” 

“I need everyone back at their stations to help us understand what’s happened,” Banfield said, her eyes scanning the crew as they hurried back to their posts. Her determination to unravel the mystery was palpable. 

“I won’t keep anyone here a minute longer than I must.”

“Thank you,” Banfield closed the channel. Impressed that for such a dramatic event to take place against them, Banfield expected the ship to be far worse than it was. As her first officer said, they were lucky. Something about what had happened did not sit right with her. Banfield had been in similar situations before and she knew that was something amidst. Feeling anxious about not wanting to wait any longer for answers, Banfield got herself out of her chair and walked over to T’Liana at the science station. She was eager to know something. Some clue, some evidence to explain what The Veil was and how it had pulled them in without causing them any damage. “Anything, lieutenant?”

“I have had to recalibrate the sensors, but we are in a region that appears to be not fully normal,” T’Liana answered, emphasing on the last word of her response. 

“Clarify,” Banfield said.

T’Liana gestured toward the main screen as she altered it from being switched off to showing the captain what was outside the ship. Before their eyes, mesmerising swirls of vibrant energy and turbulent matter materialised, creating an awe-inspiring spectacle. The dense matter moved with a graceful slowness, adding an air of mystery and wonder to the scene. “This region of space is filled with a significant amount of interstellar matter.”

“So it’s a big nebula?” Jen asked.

“Yes and no,” T’Liana replied, her tone indicating she was finding their current location an enigma to unravel. “From what I can gather, the Veil contains all of the matter, and there is a significant amount of different types of matter that normally we wouldn’t see all together but are sustained.”

“Anything dangerous against the ship that we should be aware of, T’Liana?” Westerham asked from across the bridge.

She shook her head. “I cannot determine anything; however, I would advise increasing power for the deflector and shields. ”

Banfield looked at her husband and nodded. “Do it.”

“Captain, with this amount of matter around us, I would suggest we keep to one-third impulse as our maximum speed to avoid overheating the manifolds,” CJ advised from the helm.

“Can we work up a workaround solution?” Banfield asked. 

“Until we know more about this region, we can’t be sure of the environmental difficulties it can have on the ship’s engines. However, preparing similar enhancements that Starfleet make any ship entering the Briar Patch is a starting point,” Westerham recommended. 

“Get started, commander,” Banfield said formally.

Westerham stood up and started to make his way towards the turbolift. “I’ll be in Main Engineering.”

“So, how do we get out of here?” Jen asked aloud after Westerham was gone. 

“Good question,” Banfield said. Though she wanted to explore this region further, she was keen to know if they could leave. “CJ, any chance we can leave the same way we entered?”

The young, broad-shouldered Merp looked up at his commanding officer. “I don’t think so, ma’am,” He answered simply. “Navigational logs show that before we passed through the Veil, a massive subspace energy wave was created to open a section to allow us to enter. It’s now closed, and I’m not sure how that subspace energy wave was created.”

Banfield crossed her arms against her chest. She wasn’t sure where to start and sighed to herself as she considered their options. They were alive and in one piece. That was the most important thing for her to consider. 

“Captain, I am detecting an asteroid not that far from us that is quite significant in size,” T’Liana reported. “Perhaps studying it further may help us understand the further elements of this region.”

Banfield knew what her chief science officer was suggesting. It was the only thing they could scan, and if they could determine how the asteroid was formed, it may reveal other clues to this area. “It sounds like our only logical course of action.” She turned to her pilot. “CJ, ahead one-third impulse to this asteroid.”

“Yes, ma’am,” CJ replied. “We should arrive at the asteroid in two and a half hours.”

Realising she wanted to take a moment, Banfield looked at Jen and told him to take the bridge while she was in her ready room. She tried to undertake her own analysis of the barrier they went through and to see if she could get her head around the Veil. 

After almost an hour of trying to make sense of the sensor logs, Banfield sighed heavily as she pushed the current PADD in her hands across her desk and ordered the replicator to make her another mug of raktajino. Getting out of her chair to collect her drink, Banfield made her way over when the door chime went off.

“Come in,” She responded as she picked up her mug. 

The door opened, revealing the arrival of Counsellor Roberto Solis. “Captain, I hope I’m not disturbing you?” He asked.

Shaking her head, Banfield gestured for him to come in. “Bobby, you okay?”

“Perfectly fine, thank you, ma’am; I hoped we could talk. If you don’t mind?” Solis requested. His voice, deep and steady, carried a reassuring tone.

Indicating that he should take a seat on the nearby sofa, Banfield offered him a drink, which Solis accepted. She then ordered him a mug of tea. 

Solis was a tall man with dark hair, neatly trimmed on the sides and brushed back effortlessly, revealing a sharp widow’s peak that added to his distinguished appearance. His deep-set eyes, a shade of warm brown, held a calm intensity, reflecting his natural empathy. 

Bringing the tea to him, Banfield sat down next to him after she handed it to him. “So, what’s on your mind, counsellor?” 

“This Veil that we’ve entered,” Solis started after sipping the tea, “I’m concerned that the crew may become quite anxious about being stuck here. We’ve been together for a few weeks, and the crew is relatively young.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” Banfield admitted. “That said, we will find a way out. We just need to know more about this region first before we can attempt an escape.”

“I know that, ma’am, my worry is-”

“Bridge to Captain Banfield,” interrupted Jen over the intercom.

Giving Solis an apologetic look, Banfield tapped her combadge. “Go ahead, Lukiz.”

“Ma’am, you want to join us out here. We’ve just found a Klingon Bird of Prey.” 

Intrigued to hear that, Banfield immediately got up and placed her mug on her desk before leaving with Solis behind to re-enter the bridge. 

Jen stood in the centre of the bridge, studying what was on the main viewscreen. Turning to look at it, Banfield was surprised to see the Bird of Prey with a broken wing drifting in space. What surprised her the most wasn’t the state of the Klingon ship but what was attached to the broken wing. 

“Is that a cosmozoan?” Banfield asked.

“It is, and it appears to be nibbling on the Klingons, ma’am,” Jen answered before they both looked at the creature and the state of the Klingon ship before them. 

The cosmozoan resembled a manta ray as it leisurely chewed on the ship’s delicate wing. Its translucent body emitted a mesmerising array of colours, casting a mystical glow in the vastness of space.

“Does anybody want to take a guess as to how the Klingons got here and what that space-dwelling lifeform is doing to their ship?” Banfield asked anyone.

“Welcome aboard the Triton,” Banfield said with her hands on her hips, her gaze fixed on the Klingon guests. This sight sent a wave of tension and intrigue through the air, heightening the suspense.

In the heart of sickbay, Jen, Jisarra, and Solis stood with Banfield, their faces etched with tension as Nicus urgently treated the unexpected visitors. The discovery of only six surviving Klingon warriors from the broken Bird-of-Prey had intensified the already palpable tension in the air. After Westerham managed to lock onto them, he beamed them directly to sickbay.

“I am Lieutenant Dreth, son of Kartoth of the House of Lorkoth,” said the tallest Klingon. Dreth stepped forward, attempting to appear imposing. He was two meters from Banfield before continuing his speech with his deep, booming voice. I was the second officer of the I-K-S Romart. You are the captain of this vessel?”

Banfield remained resolute, her defiance clear in her eyes as she faced Dreth. “I am Captain Corella Banfield, daughter of Lynkarisa of the House of Lorkoth.”

“General Lynkarisa?” Dreth asked. 

Banfield bobbed her head in affirmation. Yes, but her title is also Ambassador.”

Dreth considered Banfield for a moment. e sneered slightly. Your mother is well respected within the House of Lorkoth. Why have I not heard of you?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and disdain, a fact that did not escape the crew’s notice.

Banfield chuckled and looked at Jen before she instantly used her right palm to knock Dreth in the chin. She then smacked him into his chest and watched as he fell to the ground. The others around them all stepped back, their faces a mix of shock and surprise. The other Klingons stood there in astonishment at how strong Banfield was. The others with Banfield stood there still, too. 

Slowly, Dreth got up, his eyes never leaving Banfield, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You’re Klingon half is strong,” he grunted, a mixture of respect and challenge in his voice.

“And my other half is stronger,” Banfield sneered at Dreth. “Now, you may not know this, but I am an officer of the Klingon Defence Force.”

“You are?” Jen asked.

“I am,” Banfield replied, keeping her focus on Dreth. “And my rank of HoD is still applicable.”

“You were a child’s uniform,” Dreth grumbled back.

Once again, Banfield took no prisoners as she clinched both her fists together and clobbered Dreth around the face. e stumbled backwards, this time to be caught by his fellow warriors. Now, last time I checked, we’re still allies.”

“Not for much longer if Toral and his supporters have anything to say about it,” Dreth spat back.

“Fine, but by Klingon custom and tradition, as a member of the House of Lorkoth and a captain of the Klingon Defence Force, I assume leadership over you,” Banfield snarled. 

“You can’t do that,” Dreth protested. 

“You want another round against me?” Banfield threatened. 

Dreth stood there and checked Banfield up and down a few times before he wielded to her. My crew and I submit ourselves to you, Captain Banfield.”

“Good,” Banfield replied. Now that’s out of the way, how did you end up here in the Delta Quadrant?”

Dreth looked at his comrades before he answered. “We were sent to scout an underspace corridor whose aperture was discovered near the Gorath system.”

“And got pulled into this region?” Banfield guessed. “No, the aperture opened here. We’ve spent the last few days trying to find a way out before we were attacked by that Ha’DIbaH and disabled.”

“That Ha’DIbaH is still nibbling on your ship,” Jen said as he stood closer to Banfield. “Did you attack it?”

“You question my honour?” Dreth said, offended by Jen’s accusation.

“I question your motives,” Jen remarked in a firmer tone. Banf eld had to suppress her smirk. She knew that one of Jen’s previous hosts had plenty of experience dealing with the Klingons. 

“Question this region instead, commander,” Dreth countered. “It does not make any sense.”

“We shall, and you shall help us,” Banfield told Dreth. 

“We wish to return to our vessel,” Dreth said, calmer looking back at Banfield.

“That’s going to be a bit hard with it split in half and barely operational,” Solis said. “I’m sure that must be frustrating to hear, but you must trust us.”

“It can be fixed,” Dreth remar ed.

“It can’t,” Banfield said. “And there’s only a handful of you. Your ship is long on its way on the Barge of the Dead, and if you want to follow it to Gre’thor, go ahead, be my guest.”

“You wouldn’t save your fellow warriors?” Dreth challenged.

“I am, but you will do so as members of my crew.” Banfield retorted.

“Your crew?” Dreth echoed. 

“Yes,” Banfield said with conviction. “You will honour the pledge you have made to the House of Lorkoth, who I know is a strong supporter of the Khitomer Accords.”

Dreth looked at the others b fore glaring back at Banfield. “Fine.”

“Doctor Nicus will ensure you all receive the medical treatment you require, and then Lieutenant Jisaraa will assign you to guest quarters,” Banfield instructed Dreth. “Then we will discuss how yo  will contribute to this crew. Do I make myself clear, lieutenant?”

“You do, captain,” Dreth s id through more gritted teeth. “On behalf of my comrades, I pledge our lives to you and ask that you lead us.”

“I accept your lives into my hands,” Banfield acknowledged. “Qapla’!”

“Qapla’!” the Klingons all said in unison.

After a moment of silence, Doctor Nicus interrupted the standoff between the Starfleet officers and Klingons. “Now that’s over and done with. Can I please have my sickbay back to treat my patients?”

Banfield nodded. “It’s all yours, doct r.” She looked at the Klingon officers. “Once you’re  ettled in, join me tonight for a feast.   have a barrel of bloodwine in storage. The vintage is twenty-three-oh-nine.”

A different side of his surprise re ction now appeared across Dreth’s face. “You honour us with a fine vintage, captain.”

“Honour me by showing up,” She smirked.

Dreth nodded. “chah-koH.”

After exiting sickbay with Jen and Solis on either side of her, Banfield felt confident she had dealt well with Dreth and his comrades. 

“Lukiz, I want you and Thamars to take a team over to the remains of the Klingon ship and download their database,”  he ordered as they entered a turbolift. “I want you to see if we can see if their sensor logs can give us anything more than what we don’t already know.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jen nod ed. 

“Bobby,” Banfield looked at Solis. “Keep a close eye on our guests; make sure they feel like they’re part of the crew while we’re here.”

“You want us to give them jobs here on the Triton?” Solis  hecked.

“Yes,” She replied confidently. “If we want to get out of here, we need as much help as possible.”

“Understood, ma’am,” Solis said, sounding a bit nervous. 

“Problem, co nsellor?” Banfield asked.

Solis sighed. “Permission to speak freely, captain?”

“Sure,” Banfield said after she ordered the turbolift to take them to the bridge.

“I’m not sure I’m the one the Kli gons would respond to,” Solis remarked. He looked at her,  esturing towards her.

Banfield chuckle. “Bobby, if we’re going to assert our dominance over the Klingons, it’s gonna require more than just me giving them a bloody nose. Get to know the Klingon database and find a way to get them on side, counsellor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Solis replied, sounding nervously at his new task. 

Jen leant into Solis. “Bobby, please make sure you read the bit about how they initiate their mating rituals and how their superiors assert their authority. We don’t want any misconceptions.”

Solis sighed, causing Jen and Banfield to chuckle.

“Captain’s log, stardate seven-eight-seven-seven-four point six. Since our arrival in The Veil, the mysteries of this area continue to allude to us. T’Liana has launched a series of modified probes to determine if we can get a better understanding. This area is a goldmine for exploration and discovery. I don’t think we can do it justice while trying to find a way out. Our away team to the Romart successfully retrieved their computer logs and the personal items belonging to our newest crewmembers. I hope Lieutenant Dreth and his comrades integrate well into the crew while we are here. I am leaving that in the capable hands of Counsellor Solis. In the meantime, while we try to find a way out, we are now orbiting the asteroid we detected shortly after our arrival.”

“Fascinating,” T’Liana’s soft voice murmured as she dedicatedly analysed the data transmitted by the probes she had launched earlier. Lost in her work, T’Liana couldn’t help but wonder if the ongoing exploration of this uncharted area would keep surprising her. It was a puzzle that intrigued her on so many levels. A steady stream of data flooded into the astrometrics lab when the sliding doors swished open, revealing the arrival presence of Captain Banfield, with Commander Jen following closely behind. Both seem eager to learn about what she had discovered so far. 

“What do you have so far, lieutenant?” Banfield asked, the urgency of wanting to know something was at the tip of her tongue. T’Liana could hear that. Though they shared a passion for the sciences, T’Liana knew Captain Banfield wanted to find a way out before The Veil became their permanent home, and the ship was forever lost. 

“I have several matters to report,” T’Liana answered confidently. “How would you like to proceed?”

Banfield grinned at that news as she gave a side look towards Jen. He, too, was pleased to hear it. T’Liana hoped that neither of them would be disappointed with her answers. 

“However you want to,” Banfield told T’Lianna with a wave of her hand to proceed in her own manner.  

Appreciating the vote of confidence in her decision-making, T’Liana bowed her head. “Very well,” T’Liana said as she moved from the side station to the primary controls and activated the vast screen and the holographic projectors. “As I said earlier, this area is almost like a nebula; however, I am convinced by the readings we have taken from the Romart and compared them to ours and the probes we have now launched that it is more than that. It is a thriving spatial eco-system.”

“How can you be sure?” Jen questioned as he stepped forward to look at what T’Liana was presenting to them.

Pressing a few more buttons, T’Liana highlighted a few scans in the holographic projection. “The interstellar matter appears to be what some of the cosmozoans digest.”

“You’ve found more family members of Nibbler’s?” Jen asked, referring to the cosmozoan they encountered eating the Romart. Nibbler was the nickname that Jisaraa, CJ and Thamars named it. It had become a bit tiresome for them to keep calling it a ‘cosmozoan’ every time it shifted from one part of the Romart’s wing that it was enjoying to another. 

She nodded as she displayed what appeared to be a herd of Nibbler’s fellow creatures. “Indeed, these…what was it Commander Westerham called them?” She had forgotten the other phrase coined by the senior staff about the creature. 

“Space-rays,” Banfield answered. As a fellow scientist, Banfield displayed that she wasn’t impressed by the lack of scientific language when her husband had named Nibbler’s species, but there wasn’t much else they could call them for now without further study. 

“These space-rays appear to come in different dimensions and I would theorise, based on the behavioural patterns we’ve observed so far, that they travel together in large groups,” T’Liana shared. “Nibbler would appear to be a stray from the pack.”

“The Romart must be tasty enough to stray from the herd,” Jen remarked with a slight chuckle. “I don’t think we should tell Dreth that.”

“I believe it was the Romart’s use of full impulse that overloaded their engines that attracted Nibbler’s attention. Since we have been in close proximity to Nibbler, we have not appeared appetising, ” T’Liana stated, choosing her words carefully. “However, Nibbler’s kind are not the only space-dwelling creatures I have found.” 

Pressing several more buttons, the Vulcan woman indicated to other groups of creatures all living in and around The Veil. 

“I believe this is Starfleet’s first time detecting a high concentration of space-dwelling lifeforms in such a confined area of space,” T’Liana said. “Some cooperate, some ignore, while some are predator and prey. We have probes observing them, and I’ve got a science team already monitoring the results to gain more insight.”

“Excellent,” Banfield said. She was highly impressed with this find. “What else do you have?”

Pressing another button, T’Liana moved to show her superiors the next matter that intrigued her. “This asteroid we detected earlier is no ordinary asteroid.”

“Would it surprise you if I said I expected you to say something like that?” Jen quizzed; his sarcasm was laced in every word. 

T’Liana only raised her eyebrow at the first officer and restrained herself from answering him. Instead, she remained professional and composed as she continued her presentation. “A closer investigation has shown that the asteroid is also teeming with life.”

“Really?” Banfield asked her inner scientist was bursting to know more. “Sentient life?”

“We have not confirmed what they are yet, but they appear to be flora.” T’Liana adjusted the screen to show the asteroid lit up with sparkling pockets of growth over it. They all appeared to be shimmering as they pulsated different shades of blues, purples and pinks. “We have detected strange energy patterns in the flora on the asteroid. In fact, the flora has reacted to the ship’s presence.” T’Liana shared. 

“How?” Banfield questioned. That was certainly unusual and was something that T’Liana had been studying before the captain and commander had entered astrometrics.

Crossing her arms, T’Liana conveyed what she knew. “I believe it could be due to our slight disturbance in the surrounding interstellar matter. The flora appears to thrive on it. Similar to how some plants need sunlight to grow, these flora depend on the interstellar matter just like the cosmozoans do.” She pressed a few more buttons to alter the display and showed them what else she and her team had found. “There appears to be a chain of asteroids that are close to one another. Each with the same properties.”

“They look like a chain of islands,” Banfield remarked as she studied the sensor readings closely. “All sat within the confines of a great sea. How come our sensors only registered the asteroid we’re orbiting?”

“Its mass and size are one factor; however, interstellar matter can hide some of what we are now finding. Our probes appear to be the only instruments that can find them, though that is only because they get close enough to detect them,” T’Liana explained. 

“Is there anything else to help us find a way out?” Jen asked. 

T’Liana sighed for the first time since they arrived. “I am afraid not,” she answered, sounding deflated. “There are few indicators of what caused the gravitational shift that overwhelmed and pulled us. However, this area has so much interstellar material that it is hard to track such movement precisely. Four probes have already been sent to the barrier we passed through to scan it further. I hope to find a way to replicate the subspace shockwave we encountered that allowed us to travel through the barrier.”

It was clear from T’Liana’s observation of Captain Banfield’s reaction that she wasn’t about to be beaten by a scientific mystery. “It sounds like you’ve covered all the areas, lieutenant.” Banfield gave T’Liana a supportive smile before focusing back on the readings before them. 

“At least we can use the time while we’re here to make some interesting discoveries,” Jen said, trying to sound optimistic. 

“Indeed,” T’Liana agreed with Jen and appreciated his sentiment. “However, commander, I am not confident that the crew will like to spend a lifetime undertaking such research.”

Ignoring their conversation momentarily, Banfield focused on what one of the probes reported. Noticing her captain’s distraction, T’Liana looked over to what Banfield was concentrating on. “Have you found something of further interest, captain?”

Banfield nodded as she pointed at the holographic display of the asteroids they were near. “I could be wrong, but those sensors show a neurogenic field.”

“There are more lifeforms living in the asteroids, ones that could be intelligent,” Banfield remarked, her tone indicating the potential significance of this discovery. “The presence of a neurogenic field suggests a level of intelligence and organisation among these lifeforms, which could have profound implications for our understanding of this region of space.” 

“Or that it could be dangerous and cause telepathic illusions in the crew,” T’Liana warned. Commodore McCallister had briefed them recently about some of Voyager’s discoveries in this part of the Swallow Nebula region, including meeting a species that used a neurogenic field to create collective unconsciousness. He had told everyone in the Odyssey Squadron to avoid their space as he was not keen on knowing what was in everyone’s dreams or nightmares. T’Liana was not keen on dealing with them or others like them. 

“Not if we wore cortical inhibitors that were tuned to block out the neurogenic field,” Banfield said. It was more apparent she was getting excited about this prospect. “There’s no way the Triton could enter one of these asteroids. None of the entrances are wide or long enough for the ship to move in safely. We’d need to take a runabout or shuttle in.”

“Shouldn’t we send a probe in first, ma’am?” Jen suggested. His tone showed that he was worried about what the captain was planning. T’Liana agreed with his assessment, and launching a probe to make the discovery on their behalf seemed like the most logical choice to make here. However, she had recently noticed that Captain Banfield was not always logical in her choices. 

“And sit on our hands and read the data?” Banfield asked, sounding slightly jovial but annoyed at Jen’s idea. She shook her head and tutted. “No, no, no. I want to see this up close.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to lead the away mission?” Jen said, crossing his arms against his chest. It was now apparent he had almost given up trying to convince the captain to follow a different course of action first. 

“Captain’s prerogative,” Banfield smirked, looking back at her first officer. “I’ll take the Calliste out to get a better look.”

“Who will you take?” Jen asked.

T’Liana felt the captain’s eyes on her before she had even looked at her.

“My trusty chief science officer,” Banfield replied with a huge grin. “Along with CJ and Doctor Nicus.”

“Take Tharmas with you in case the Calliste encounters a technical issue,” Jen advised.

“She’s a brand new Delta-class; what can go wrong?” Banfield asked.

“Please, ma’am,” Jen emphasised on his pleading. 

Relenting, Banfield agreed to have the operations officer join them. “Very well,” she said and looked at T’Liana. “Lieutenant, use the probes and sensors to determine which asteroid has the lowest neurogenic field. That one will be the first one we explore.”

 Intrigued by the captain’s decision to find the lowest neurogenic field, T’Lianna asked her why she wanted to start there. “If we wish to meet possible new life, surely the one of the highest would be the most useful to us?”

“Yes, but if they’re not friendly, I don’t want them to use too much of their telepathic illusions to overwhelm us,” Banfield replied before she started to call those she would be taking with her on her away mission. 

“This should be fun!” She said as she left astrometrics with Jen in tow.

T’Liana only raised her eyebrow and questioned whether or not the adjective ‘fun’ would be correct.

Banfield was enjoying the flight from the Triton to inside the asteroid that T’Liana had chosen for them to explore first. Sat at the starboard aft science station, Banfield was taking in the readings the Delta-class runabout was feeding back to them. Besides her, in the port station, was T’Liana. Her Vulcan chief science officer focused entirely on her readings, too. Instead of missing the view, Banfield watched the scenery as they flew through it.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Nicus said from the station behind T’Liana.

“It is,” Banfield agreed with a nod. 

“We’re approaching the baby island,” CJ announced from the helm. 

Banfield gazed down at the forward section of the cockpit, where her senior most pilot sat at the controls. Next to him, sitting on the small stool to his left, was Tharmas. Tharmas was reviewing the runabout’s systems.

“The Calliste’s systems are all good to go in,” The operations officer announced.

Acknowledging their updates, Banfield ordered them to go ahead and move into the asteroid.

The Calliste glided smoothly through the asteroid’s narrow entryway, its hull reflecting the kaleidoscope of colours emanating from the surrounding energy fields. 

Banfield sat poised and alert, her sharp gaze taking in every detail as they ventured deeper into the unknown. 

As the Calliste ventured deeper into the asteroid’s interior, the crew was greeted by a dramatic expansion of space, revealing a breathtaking scenery that momentarily left them speechless. The cavern walls were adorned with intricate patterns of luminescent flora, casting a soft glow that danced across the rocky surfaces. Tendrils of energy gracefully arced between crystalline structures, creating a pulsating web of light that seemed to echo a heartbeat.

“Remarkable,” CJ breathed from the pilot’s seat, his wide eyes reflecting the vibrant hues surrounding them. The Merp’s usually composed demeanour while on duty was replaced by sheer wonder as he guided the vessel through the labyrinthine expanse.

Doctor Nicus leaned forward, his reptilian features illuminated by the ambient light. The Saurian’s nostrils flared slightly as he took in the scene, his scientific mind already analysing the myriad of data their sensors were collecting. “The energy signatures are highly organised,” he noted, his deep voice resonating through the cockpit. “They are far more structured than the initial readings aboard the Triton. This level of complexity suggests the presence of sentient life forms.”

In front of him, T’Liana’s Vulcan features remained impassive, though her eyes betrayed a keen interest as she scrutinised the data scrolling across her console. “The neurogenic field density has increased exponentially,” she confirmed. “It is consistent with known patterns of conscious thought processes. I would go as far as to say it is a collective consciousness, but not like Borg’s hive mind, which has almost one voice and one strain of thought. These readings indicate that they are almost independent from one another but work together. It is similar to telepathy, but on some levels, it is not. It is… fascinating.”

Banfield’s lips curved into a slight smile, a hint of her Klingon pride surfacing at the prospect of a new discovery. “This could be an interesting finding for us; we need to know more. How did it form? Is it just linked to the lifeforms here, or is it all connected with these asteroids or even The Veil itself? Are those Space Rays we encountered earlier connected in any way, too? There’s so many questions to answer!” she stated, her voice demonstrating her keenness. CJ, bring us closer to the field. Let’s see what else we can uncover.”

“Aye, Captain,” CJ replied, deftly adjusting their trajectory. The Calliste responded smoothly, manoeuvring through the supernatural landscape with practised ease.

As they delved deeper, the ambient light intensified, and the patterns of energy became increasingly intricate, weaving together in elaborate formations that seemed almost deliberate in design. If they had not entered an asteroid, it looked nearly like they were moving through a deep ocean teeming with life of all kinds. Everything had its place. Everything had its reason for living. Everything appeared to support each other. 

Suddenly, a series of alerts chimed across the control panels. Tharmas quickly scanned the incoming data. “Captain, sensors are detecting an energy barrier directly ahead. Composition is unusual.”

“All stop,” Banfield ordered immediately, her instincts urging caution. She didn’t want them to run into something and then needed to be rescued by the Triton. Banfield wanted to take this discovery one step at a time. They were dealing with discoveries that were most unusual, and each one of them could bring with them a sense of danger to their lives. She wasn’t going to risk it for her own curiosity. 

The runabout decelerated smoothly, coming to a halt a safe distance from the shimmering obstruction that now dominated their forward view. The barrier was a mesmerising sight—a translucent, undulating blanket of light that spanned the width of the cavern. Its surface rippled with waves of colour, shifting and blending in a hypnotic dance that hinted at immense power and sophistication.

T’Liana’s fingers flew over her console as she initiated a detailed scan. “Preliminary analysis indicates a stable atmosphere exists beyond the barrier,” she conveyed.  “Composition is breathable and within safe parameters for humanoid life.”

Tharmas continued his own assessment; his expression was thoughtful. “Structural integrity of the barrier is sufficient to allow passage without causing harm to the Calliste. It appears to function more like a controlled gateway than a defensive shield. However, I wouldn’t want to stand on the other side, not wearing an E-V-A suit, in case the barrier suddenly drops without warning. I can’t determine how it is being formed or maintained. It is natural, though.”

Banfield considered the information, her mind weighing the risks and benefits with calculated precision. Part of her relished the challenge and the opportunity for discovery. At the same time, her other side urged restraint and a methodical approach—a balance she had mastered over many years of being in Starfleet. “Proceeding without proper reconnaissance would be unwise,” she concluded. “T’Liana, deploy a micro-probe through the barrier. Let’s gather more data before moving forward.”

“Understood, Captain,” T’Liana responded, executing the command with practised efficiency. A moment later, a small, sleek probe launched from the Calliste, streaking toward the barrier. Upon contact, the probe passed through effortlessly, disappearing into the luminescent fog beyond.

The crew waited in tense silence as data streamed back from the probe. 

T’Liana’s eyes scanned the readings intently. “The probe has successfully traversed the barrier,” she confirmed. “All systems are functioning within normal parameters. No anomalies were detected. The probe is transmitting data from the other side. It is safe to proceed, ma’am.”

Satisfied with that news, Banfield gave a curt nod. “Very well. CJ, take us through—slow and steady. Thrusters only. Tharmas full power to shields and the deflector.”

“Shields and deflector are at maximum,” Tharmas confirmed. 

CJ’s hands moved confidently over the controls. “Taking us in, Captain, thrusters only.”

The Calliste advanced toward the barrier, its forward lights illuminating the path ahead. A gentle ripple cascaded across the barrier’s surface as they made contact, enveloping the Delta-class runabout in a downpour of light. For a brief moment, the cockpit was flooded with numerous spells of light, and then they were through. Their journey almost seemed long, but it wasn’t. 

On the other side, the sight that greeted them was nothing short of more amazement. They had entered a vast, domed chamber filled with lush, otherworldly vegetation. Towering plants with translucent leaves reached upward, their surfaces pulsating with vibrant energy. Delicate tendrils floated through the air, emitting soft chimes that mingled to create a hauntingly beautiful melody. The ground below was covered in a carpet of iridescent moss that seemed to glow from within, casting a serene ambience throughout the space.

“This is incredible,” CJ whispered, his voice filled with genuine wonder. Everything was impressing him today. “It’s like an entire ecosystem thriving inside an asteroid.”

Doctor Nicus’ eyes darted across his readings; his excitement was evident. “The biodiversity here is astounding. These organisms are not only surviving but flourishing in conditions that would be hostile to most known life forms. I cannot determine how yet.”

A sudden series of beeps drew Tharmas’ attention back to his console. He adjusted a few settings, his expression shifting from curiosity to intrigue. “Captain, I’m picking up an audio frequency through our communication array. It’s… unique.”

Banfield tilted her head slightly, listening as Tharmas patched the sound through the cockpit speakers. A soft, melodic series of tones filled the air, weaving together in a harmonious pattern.

“It’s like a song,” CJ observed, a smile spreading across his face as he attempted to hum along. 

His attempt was enthusiastic but decidedly off-key, eliciting a chuckle from Tharmas. “Stick to flying, CJ,” Tharmas teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Your musical talents leave much to be desired, my friend.”

CJ faked offence, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “You wound me, Tharmas. I thought we were friends, and for your information, I happen to have a degree in interstellar harmonics.”

“Must have been an honorary degree,” Tharmas shot back, grinning.

Banfield allowed herself a small smile at their banter, appreciating the lightness amidst the unknown. Yet, her focus remained sharp, attuned to the slightest change in their surroundings.

“The source of the song appears to be emanating from deeper within the chamber,” T’Liana interjected, her tone as measured as ever. “It corresponds with the strongest concentration of the neurogenic field.”

“Then that’s where we’re headed,” Banfield affirmed. “CJ, proceed cautiously. Maintain sensor sweeps and be prepared for any anomalies.”

“Aye, Captain,” CJ responded, guiding the Calliste further into the chamber. 

The vessel moved slowly, carefully navigating around the dense clusters of vegetation and energy formations that dotted their path. As they advanced, the melody grew richer, layers of sound intertwining in an intricate symphony that seemed almost alive.

After several minutes, a structure emerged ahead—a majestic formation that appeared both natural and constructed. It resembled a cathedral of light, with towering arches formed from intertwining vines and crystalline pillars that refracted the surrounding glow into a spectrum of colours—at the centre stood a raised dais, its surface shimmering with a concentrated pool of energy that pulsed in harmony with the song.

Before Banfield could issue her next command, a sudden surge of light erupted from the dais, enveloping the cockpit in a brilliant flash. The crew shielded their eyes instinctively, alarms chiming briefly before subsiding as the light dissipated.

When they looked up, a figure stood before them.

The being was tall and slender, exuding a ghostly presence that immediately captivated the crew’s attention. Its skin was a tapestry of luminescent hues, shifting and flowing like liquid light across a smooth, almost translucent surface. Delicate, elongated limbs moved with graceful fluidity, and its eyes—large and multifaceted—shimmered with depths of colour that seemed to hold the secrets of the cosmos. Intricate patterns adorned its form, glowing symbols that pulsed in rhythm with the surrounding energy fields. 

For a moment, the cockpit was silent, each member of the away team processing the sudden appearance of this extraordinary being. Banfield felt a surge of adrenaline, her Klingon instincts urging readiness, but her scientific curiosity and Starfleet training kept her composed.

The alien tilted its head slightly, observing them with what appeared to be gentle curiosity. Then, it spoke in a voice that resonated both audibly and within their minds.

“Greetings, travellers,” the being said, its tone melodic and soothing. “Welcome to our sanctuary.”

Banfield exchanged a brief glance with T’Liana, whose eyebrows had risen ever so slightly in typical Vulcan fashion. Doctor Nicus’s eyes were wide, clearly fascinated, while CJ and Tharmas looked both amazed and cautious.

Stepping forward, Banfield met the being’s gaze directly, her posture respectful yet authoritative. 

“I am Captain Corella Banfield of the Federation starship Triton,” she began, her voice clear and steady. “We come in peace and with a desire for understanding and mutual respect. May we know who you are?”

The being’s eyes seemed to brighten at her words, and the patterns across its skin shifted into new configurations, glowing softly. “We are the Ilumirians,” it replied. “Custodians and children of this place you and others call the Veil. Your presence here is unexpected but not unwelcome.”

A wave of relief and excitement washed over Banfield. First contact with a new species was a profound moment that held endless possibilities for knowledge. She could feel the same anticipation mirrored in her crew.

“It is an honour to meet you,” Banfield responded sincerely. “We have journeyed here seeking to learn and explore. Your home is truly extraordinary.”

The Ilumirian extended a slender hand, its fingers tapering into delicate points that glowed softly. “There is much to share and much to discover. Come, let us converse and exchange wisdom.”

As the Ilumirian spoke, the melodic song that had guided them intensified slightly, enveloping the Calliste in a harmonious embrace. Banfield felt a profound sense of connection and possibility; her human curiosity and Klingon spirit united in eager anticipation of what lay ahead. It was very hypnotic. 

Turning to her crew, Banfield saw the same spark of excitement and wonder in their eyes. Nodding firmly, she returned her gaze to their guest. “We look forward to it,” Banfield said, smiling. “Lead the way.”

First contact had just begun, and Banfield couldn’t believe what a first contact it would be. She just knew she had to remember to see if these beings knew a way out of The Veil. Otherwise, this first contact would be her last contact. 

“Captain’s log supplemental, our first contact with the Ilumirians, continues to go well. Several science teams are now visiting their islands of asteroids where they live. Though they have offered to show us how to leave the Veil, I feel that if we run away from this encounter immediately, we miss out on an excellent opportunity to explore something unusual and new. However, that decision has not gone down well with some of our newest members. Counsellor Solis has taken it upon himself to make them feel more at home.”

Solis stood in his quarters as he peeled off his uniform. His hands moved methodically, unzipping the sleek blue jacet and sliding it off his broad shoulders. The uniform fell into a neat pile at his feet, revealing his muscular physique. He stood there momentarily, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his handsome face framed by dark, neatly trimmed hair, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath.

Solis wasn’t vain, but he knew how to appreciate his appearance. He had worked on his defined chest and muscular physique since his academy days. He smirked to himself. 

It’s too bad that the Klingons don’t care about good looks. He thought to himself. They only care about strength and honour. Still, he wasn’t about to downplay his assets. 

On the bed lay the Klingon attire, a stark contrast to his usual clean-cut look. The tunic was a dark, leathery material, interwoven with metallic accents, and it had the unmistakable weight of something designed for battle. He held it up to his chest, eyeing it sceptically. The low neckline revealed just enough of his chest to hint at the power beneath, a look he decided he could work with. Klingons liked to show off their prowess, after all, and if he was going to immerse himself in their culture tonight, he might as well embrace the boldness of it.

Solis slipped into the Klingon attire, the heavy material fitting snugly around his broad shoulders and arms. The leather was rough but not uncomfortable. He tightened the belt around his waist, the metallic sash hanging loosely to one side, giving him a warrior-like appearance. He adjusted the long boots that reached halfway up his calves, feeling their weight and thinking how much more grounded he felt than his usual Starfleet footwear.

He turned back to the mirror, eyeing his reflection critically. The dark tones of the Klingon uniform contrasted strikingly against his bronze skin, making his muscles stand out even more. He tugged at the collar, slightly lowering it to give a glimpse of his chest. Turning to the side to examine the fit, Solis wondered if he looked Klingon enough. The outfit screamed “battle-ready,” but Solis had always prided himself on finding balance; however, he didn’t want to insult their latest recruits. He still found the whole concept of them honouring themselves to Captain Banfield; however, Solis appreciated the notion that these Klingons might actually do as the captain told them, but he did wonder if that would be the same for the rest of the Starfleet crew. 

Just as Solis finished adjusting the last piece of armour-like plating on his shoulder, the door chime interrupted his thoughts. Solis straightened up, giving himself one last approving glance in the mirror. “Come in,” he called, turning toward the door.

It slid open, revealing Jen. The Trill first officer stepped inside, his own Klingon uniform perfectly fitted, the deep armour contrasting with his usual composed presence. Jen’s spots traced the sides of his face and neck, disappearing into the collar of his tunic, adding an almost exotic quality to his Klingon garb.

“You ready?” Jen asked, his voice carrying a note of amusement. “Or still admiring yourself?”

Solis chuckled, gesturing toward his reflection. “Can you blame me? This Klingon getup does wonders for the physique.”

Jen smirked, crossing his arms as he surveyed Solis’ appearance. “I’d say you look the part. Though you might be showing a little too much chest for a traditional Klingon.”

Solis grinned, adjusting the tunic again. “Call it an artistic interpretation. Besides, they like confidence, right?”

“True,” Jen said, his smirk softening into a more thoughtful expression. “But tonight isn’t just about playing dress-up. The Klingons need to feel like they belong on the Triton, like they’re part of the crew, not just guests.”

Solis nodded as he grabbed a ceremonial Klingon dagger from his desk and fastened it to his belt. The weight of the blade felt natural at his side, though he wasn’t planning on using it. “I know. This is about more than just getting through the evening—it’s about making them feel like they matter here and part of something bigger. Part of the captain’s house and her honour.”

“Exactly,” Jen agreed, stepping further into the room. “They’re warriors, sure, but they’re also people who’ve been through a lot. They need to see that we’re not just Starfleet officers following protocol but allies willing to share their traditions, even if it means stepping out of our comfort zones.”

Solis adjusted the final piece of his uniform, smoothing down the sash that hung across his chest. “I’m ready for the food, the drinks, the songs,” He paused as he reconsidered his train of thought. “Though I’m still bracing myself for the gagh.”

Jen chuckled. “Don’t worry. Gagh isn’t as bad as it looks. Just remember to eat it while it’s still moving. One of my previous hosts insulted a Klingon chef by barfing it up in front of them.”

“Nice,” Solis said, his tone mock-serious. “Moving food. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Jen gave him an encouraging nod. “The point isn’t that you love it. It’s that you try. Klingons respect effort and authenticity. As long as you don’t flinch when they push you, you’ll earn their respect.”

Solis looked himself over one last time, feeling the weight of both the uniform and the evening ahead. “It’s good I’ve been practising my Klingon songs, then. Not sure my singing voice will impress them, but I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

“That’s all they’ll care about,” Jen said. “You don’t need to be perfect; you just need to show them that you’re willing to share in their culture and way of life, even for a night.”

Solis grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Well, let’s make them feel like they belong here on the Triton.”

Jen clapped him on the shoulder, his expression warm. “That’s the spirit, counsellor. Let’s show them what it means to be part of this crew.”

As Solis and Jen entered the mess hall, the heavy atmosphere of Klingon culture immediately engulfed them. The room was adorned with deep red and black banners bearing the iconic Klingon emblem. Along the walls, ornate holographic bat’leths and mek’leths were on display. Tables were covered with hearty platters of Klingon cuisine: steaming bowls of gagh, plates of rokeg blood pie, and large haunches of grilled meat. The smell was intense. It was earthy and robust, like everything about Klingon culture, with a hint of lavender. 

At the far end of the room, the six Klingon officers, led by Lieutenant Dreth, were already deep into the evening’s festivities. Dreth and his comrades sat around a table, their voices growing louder with each passing moment as they downed bloodwine and tore into the food. A few Starfleet officers lingered nearby, trying to join in on the festivity, but their discomfort was evident. They sipped cautiously from their goblets and exchanged uneasy glances as the Klingons began to sing a raucous drinking song in their guttural language.

“’ej HumtaH ‘ej DechtaH ‘Iw. ‘ej Doq SodTah ghoSpa’ Sqral bIQtiQ ‘e’ pa’ jaj law’ mo’ jaj puS jaj qeylIS molar MIgh HoHchu’.”

Standing near the door, Solis couldn’t help but smile at the scene. It was precisely what he had envisioned: the Klingons fully immersed in the Triton’s hospitality.

As the final note of the song died down, Dreth rose from his seat, his burly frame casting a large shadow across the room. In one hand, he held a large tankard of bloodwine, nearly overflowing with the dark red liquid. His face was flushed with drink, but his eyes were sharp as he approached Solis and Jen.

“Counselor Solis, Commander Jen!” Dreth boomed, his voice commanding the attention of the room. He approached them, his expression a mix of respect and good-natured humour. “You have done well to make us feel like brothers and sisters aboard your ship. Tonight, you showed us that we are more than guests. We are crew, we are family!”

Solis felt a sense of relief wash over him at how things had started. The evening had been a gamble, but Dreth’s words confirmed they had struck the right chord. He and his people were enjoying themselves. 

“That’s exactly what we hoped for, lieutenant,” Solis said with a smile. “We want you to feel like you’re welcome here.”

Dreth nodded approvingly before glancing at Solis and Jen’s Klingon attire, an amused smirk creeping across his face. “And these uniforms,” he said, motioning toward their leather-clad forms with his tankard. “I must admit, they suit you both better than those Starfleet… pyjamas.”

Jen chuckled softly, adjusting his belt. “Comfort has its place in Starfleet, but we figured a more appropriate look was in order for a night like this.”

Dreth took a deep drink from his tankard, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before giving an exaggerated nod of approval. “And the bloodwine! You honour us with such a fine choice. The vintage you’ve presented us with is twenty-three-oh-nine. A fine year indeed! It warms the blood like fire!”

Solis blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Twenty-three-oh-nine? I didn’t organise that.”

Before Dreth could respond, the mess hall doors swished open, revealing Banfield, resplendent in her own Klingon uniform. Her hair was loose in curls, and her tunic bore more intricate designs, reflecting her rank and heritage. At her side was Westerham, her husband, dressed in similar Klingon garb but with a more laid-back air, as though he were more amused than intimidated by the intensity of the evening.

“The twenty-three-oh-nine bloodwine,” Banfield declared with a grin, striding into the room confidently, “was my choice, Dreth. Consider it my gift to you all!”

The Klingon lieutenant’s eyes widened, and he let out a deep, booming laugh. “Captain!” he exclaimed. “You honour us more, and your taste is impeccable! Come, we must share a drink!” He gestured wildly toward the barrels of bloodwine at the far end of the room.

Banfield chuckled, her smile widening. “You honour me and my crew, Dreth! I wouldn’t dream of missing sharing a barrel with our newest members,” she said, clapping Dreth on the shoulder as they both headed toward the barrels, already deep in conversation about the quality of the wine and the proper toasts to follow.

As Banfield and Dreth walked off, Solis turned to Westerham, a curious smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Commander,” Solis began, “you seem pretty comfortable in Klingon gear. Do you enjoy all the Klingon traditions with the captain?”

Westerham smirked, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the wall. “You could say that. Our wedding was a traditional Klingon one, and Corella enjoys reminding us of the stories her mother used to share with her. It’s one-half of her heritage, and I enjoy seeing her involved in it, especially when she shares it with the kids. Brook and Athena have really embraced it now that they’re getting older.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t they participate in the Day of Honour customs earlier this year?” Jen asked, nodding thoughtfully. “I remember hearing it’s a big deal in your family.”

Westerham’s eyes softened, and he had a warm voice as he replied, “Yeah, it is. We make a point to celebrate it every year. The kids need to understand where they come from, and the Day of Honour is a way for them to connect with that part of themselves. It’s becoming a pretty significant tradition for us. Plus, it keeps my mother-in-law happy when she hears we keep it going. I don’t want ever to cross her bad side.” 

The three men shared a chuckle as a holographic waiter dressed in Klingon attire approached them and gave them all a Klingon tankard. After taking the drinks, Jen and Solis looked at their drinks. 

“Hold your breath before you drink it,” Westerham advised.

“Norvo, my seventh host, always enjoyed bloodwine, while my sixth host, Yanaz, was never a fan!” Jen said, looking down at his drink.

“Cheers!” Solis said as he raised his drink to Westerham and Jen.

“Cheers!” They both echoed. 

The mess hall doors opened again with a hiss, and Lieutenants CJ and Tharmas strode in, both clad in Klingon gear. CJ, ever the performer, had a swagger to his step, his sharp features softened by the playful grin on his face. Tharmas, the larger of the two, looked imposing in his Klingon armour, though the twinkle in his eyes suggested he was ready to let loose. 

“Well, well,” CJ said, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the scene. “Looks like we’re just in time.”

“Gentlemen, welcome to Sto’vo’kor,” Solis said with a smirk as he checked their outfits out. “Thanks for trying to blend in.”

Tharmas grunted, trying to emulate their Klingon guests, his deep voice carrying over the noise. “Better get in before they drink all the bloodwine.”

“Good luck!” Jen encouraged the two younger officers. 

“They’re so going to get themselves wrecked tonight,” Westerham whispered as they watched the two officers approach the Klingons. 

“I’m not cleaning that mess up!” Solis said as he took a sip from his drink.

CJ and Tharmas moved toward the heart of the festivities with the same ease they brought to any situation, their confident strides catching the attention of Starfleet officers and Klingons alike. They approached the large metal barrels of bloodwine, where a few Klingon officers were filling their tankards and wasted no time in grabbing their own mugs.

CJ grinned as he tilted his mug into the barrel, letting the thick red liquid splash inside. “Now this,” he said, trying to sound like a Klingon warrior with a mischievous smirk, “is a real drink. None of that replicated stuff they serve in the lounge.”

Tharmas, copying CJ’s attempts to be more Klingon, grunted in agreement as he filled his own mug. “I’ll take this over synthetic any day.”

With their mugs now full, they made their way over to the Klingon table, where Dreth and a few of his comrades were loudly retelling stories of glorious battles. CJ’s eyes gleamed as he raised his mug to Dreth. “Mind if we join? I’ve heard a few stories about Klingon battles that might add to the entertainment.”

Dreth, flushed with drink and excitement, looked at CJ with interest. “You, Starfleet, have stories worth telling?”

CJ smirked, taking a long drink of his bloodwine before wiping his mouth. “Maybe not firsthand, but I’ve heard enough tales over the years to know a good battle when I hear one.”

One of the other Klingons, a burly officer with a scar across his forehead, leaned forward, intrigued. “You think you can tell Klingon stories better than a Klingon, Merp?”

Tharmas, standing tall beside his friend, spoke up, his voice deep and steady. “It’s not about telling them better. It’s about respecting the spirit of the story. And trust me, we’ve got the spirit.”

CJ gave a dramatic sweep of his hand, the other holding his mug, as he launched into an exaggerated tale. “So, there was this warrior I served with once—tough as they come, naturally. We’re on a deep-space mission, and out of nowhere, we’re ambushed by the Borg. Outnumbered, outgunned, and, of course, our ship had suffered damage to the weapons array. But do you think that stopped us?”

Dreth, clearly entertained, slammed his mug on the table, splashing bloodwine across it. “Of course not! A true warrior fights with whatever is at hand!”

CJ’s eyes sparkled as he nodded in agreement. “Exactly! So what does he do? He orders his crew to ram the nearest enemy ship—no hesitation, no second thoughts. Straight into the heart of the battle.”

Tharmas, adding to the story, took a swig of his bloodwine and chimed in, his voice booming. “They say the impact alone took out half the Borg ship. The warrior barely survived, but he stood victorious over the wreckage.”

The Klingons leaned in, their eyes gleaming with appreciation. The scarred officer slapped the table, his laughter loud and approving. “Ha! That is a story worthy of Kahless himself! Even if it’s not your own, you understand the heart of it.”

CJ, pleased with the reaction, raised his mug again. “It’s not about owning the story—it’s about respecting the glory of it.”

Dreth, now fully caught up in the exchange, grinned broadly. “You speak well, Starfleet. You may not be Klingon, but you’ve got the fire of a warrior. More bloodwine!”

The other Klingons raised their mugs in agreement, shouting in unison. “More bloodwine!”

As they refilled their mugs, Tharmas, more reserved but no less committed, leaned toward CJ. “You know, we might just survive this night after all.”

CJ chuckled, clinking his mug against Tharmas’. “If we can keep up with their stories and the bloodwine, we’ll be fine.”

Tharmas, downing the last of his bloodwine, smiled wryly. “As long as I don’t have to eat more gagh.”

CJ and the Klingons roared with laughter, their camaraderie growing stronger with every passing moment. The energy in the mess hall surged, and it was clear that the line between Klingon and Starfleet was beginning to blur in the best way possible.

Dreth, now thoroughly enjoying himself, clapped CJ on the back with enough force to nearly knock him forward. “You’ve got the heart of a warrior, Lieutenant!”

CJ grinned, steadying himself. “I’ll take that as the highest compliment, Lieutenant.”

As the Klingons broke into another song, this one even louder and more boisterous than the last, the entire room began to sway with the rhythm. Starfleet officers who had been hesitant at first were now more engaged, laughing and attempting to sing along, though the Klingon words were mostly lost on them.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the ship shuddered violently, cutting through the party’s noise. The Klingons fell silent, looking around in confusion. The room plunged into an uneasy quiet, broken only by the hum of the ship’s stabilising systems.

Everyone’s eyes fell on the captain as she placed her bloodwine down. Banfield was quick to tap her combadge. “Captain to the bridge. What’s going on?”

Jisaraa’s calm voice came through, though there was a hint of urgency beneath it. The Orion security and tactical chief was the one who had escaped tonight’s festivities to take a duty watch spot on the bridge. “Captain, we’ve just been hit by a graviton surge. The source appears to be deeper within the Ilumirians’ asteroid field. We’re also detecting epsilon radiation, though the current levels are low.”

Banfield’s eyes narrowed in thought, and she glanced at Westerham and Jen from across the room. “Interesting. Have you managed to pinpoint the source of the surge?”

“We’re running scans now, but the radiation is making it difficult,” Jisaraa replied.

Banfield stood tall, her Klingon attire giving her an even more commanding presence. “We’ll be up there shortly. Banfield out.” She turned to Westerham and Jen, her eyes sharp. “I want both of you with me on the bridge. This could be something we need to investigate closely.”

Westerham nodded, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I’ll grab the data on the way.”

Jen was already in motion, moving toward the door. “Let’s find out what’s happening out there.”

As the trio made their way to the exit, Banfield caught Solis’ eye. “Counsellor, you, CJ, and Tharmas keep our Klingon guests entertained while we figure this out.”

Solis gave a mock salute, grinning. “Don’t worry, Captain. I think we’ve got this covered.”

Hearing the exchange, CJ looked up from his spot by the table and raised his tankard. “We’ll make sure the party keeps going.”

Banfield smirked before she, Westerham, and Jen stepped out of the mess hall and headed toward the bridge. Their Klingon uniforms now seemed oddly fitting for what felt like the beginning of something more ominous.

As the doors closed behind them, Solis turned back to the party. The Klingons, while momentarily distracted by the disturbance, seemed eager to return to their celebration.

Dreth, ever the instigator, raised his mug again, roaring, “This is no time to be worried! A ship that can shake is a ship that’s still in the fight! More bloodwine, more song, for tomorrow we go into battle!”

CJ and Tharmas exchanged a glance before CJ shrugged. “Well, looks like we’re back to business as usual.”

Solis chuckled, standing beside the two lieutenants. “Business as usual, Klingon style.”

Staring down at the sensor readings over T’Liana’s shoulder, Banfield found it frustrating to work out the source of the current pattern of graviton surges and increased levels of epsilon radiation. After changing out of her Klingon uniform an hour ago, she returned to the bridge to discover that the intermittent surges continued at irregular moments and that the slow radiation increase was somehow linked. Though T’Liana had worked out that it was coming deep inside one of the other larger Ilumirians asteroids, what was causing it was now the mystery they were finding a challenge to work out. It didn’t help that the Ilumirians were not responding to them. 

“Corella, look at this,” Westerham called from across the bridge at the engineering station.

Turning her focus away to make her way over to him, Banfield approached her husband and placed her hands on his shoulders. “What have you found?”

Pointing to the screen above him, Westerham showed her his discovery. “The graviton surges and increases in epsilon radiation have scared off Nibbler and his kind.”

“Scared off?” Banfield questioned as she examined the data herself. In a second, she could see how right her husband was. “If that’s the case, then that might mean this is not the norm.”

“So why are the Ilumirians not answering us?” Jen asked. The Trill first officer was working at the mission ops stations and had now turned around to join the conversation. “My gut is telling me they’re not sure themselves.”

“I think you may be right, Lukiz,” Banfield agreed. Crossing her arms, the captain started to consider their next move. “We need to know more.”

“The asteroid itself isn’t large enough for the Triton to enter and explore safely,” T’Liana shared. “I recommend we send an away team in on the Calliste again. We should be careful, though, as we observed before, this asteroid has a high neurogenic field. The Ilumirians will be aware of our presence; however, we cannot guarantee they know what is creating the graviton surges.”

Jen nodded in agreement with the lieutenant. “T’Liana has a point, they may be clueless.”

“So let’s get some answers,” Banfield was determined to know more here. If these surges and radiation caused a threat to The Veil, then they had a purpose in protecting it. “Number One, have CJ and Tharmas finish with our Klingon guests and get the Calliste ready for launch. I want Doctor Nicus to join us as well.” She started to walk across the bridge. “T’Liana and Jisaraa, you’re with me.”

Stumbling away from the Mission Ops station, Jen chased after Banfield. “Umm, captain, a private word, please?”

Banfield paused as she realised what was coming. She looked at her first officer. “Lukiz, I know what you’re going to say, and I promise to let you lead the away missions in the future, but I can’t stand away from this one.” She told him in a low hush tone.

Jen sighed. “Very well.”

Banfield signalled to Jisaraa and T’Liana to follow her into the turbolift. Once she got into the cart, with either officer behind her, she turned around and looked at Jen and smiled. “Number One, the bridge is yours.”

The Calliste drifted silently through the narrow passage within the asteroid, its lights cutting through the darkness like a search beacon in the night. The walls of the asteroid, jagged and uneven, seemed to close in on the runabout, creating a sense of claustrophobia. Banfield leaned forward in her seat, her eyes scanning the rough, rocky surface as the runabout passed through a dense, swirling mist of energy.

“We’re approaching the area with those readings, Captain,” said CJ from the helm, his voice calm but laced with the curiosity that hung in the air.

“Steady,” Banfield replied, her voice a mixture of command and intrigue. She could feel the tension growing, but it wasn’t fear. It was anticipation—the kind of scientific wonder that had driven her before becoming captain. The walls around them shimmered with faint lights as if the asteroid itself was alive, breathing in unison with the pulses of energy that flowed like rivers through it.

“The epsilon radiation readings are getting higher,” Jisaraa noted. “Shields are holding, though.” 

“The neurogenic field is stronger here,” Nicus noted from his console. His Saurian features furrowed with thought. “It’s far more organised than the chaotic fluctuations we detected earlier. As we have speculated before, this suggests intelligent design for this entire region.”

Banfield nodded, her Klingon side appreciating the thought of something structured, controlled—order from chaos. “Could it be sentient?” she asked, even though the answer already sat on the edge of her mind.

“It’s possible,” Nicus responded, his brow ridges rising. “But I can’t be certain. We need to get closer.”

T’Liana, seated to Banfield’s left, had been silently working at her console. The Vulcan’s stoic expression hadn’t changed since they entered the asteroid, but her sharp gaze was fixed on something unusual. “Captain, I am detecting markings on the surface of the cavern ahead.”

Banfield’s pulse quickened at the mention of the markings. “Markings? What sort of markings?” she asked. “Can you identify them?”

T’Liana pressed a few buttons, and a holographic image of the markings appeared on the screen before them. The symbols were curved and flowing, unlike anything Banfield had seen before.

“They are from unknown origin,” T’Liana replied. “However, they bear similarities to ancient Delta Quadrant artefacts catalogued in Starfleet’s database, particularly those once found on Ocampa belonging to the Nacene.”

Banfield’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Nacene. She knew the name well from her studies of Voyager’s journey through the Delta Quadrant. The Nacene were a mysterious, near-legendary species known to have stranded Voyager here through the entity known as Caretaker. If these markings were connected to them, this was no ordinary asteroid. The Nacene were known for their advanced technology and enigmatic ways, making any connection to them a matter of great importance.

“Focus all sensors on those markings,” Banfield ordered, her voice sharp with command. “I want every detail.”

Tharmas adjusted his controls and scanned the asteroid walls. “Captain, if these symbols are linked to the Nacene, then that means-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as Banfield already knew what he was thinking and interrupted him in mid-flow. “That means the graviton surges and epsilon radiation is coming from a tetryon reactor. Similar to what was used to power the Caretaker’s array that brought Voyager to the Delta Quadrant.”

Everyone in the cockpit of the Delta-class runabout went silent. None of them wanted to deal with the consequences of dealing with the Nacene. Being briefed on the Nacene was a high priority for everyone who visited the Delta Quadrant. They were high on the list, and Starfleet Intelligence felt they were a threat. Along with the Borg, Species 8472, the Nacene were powerful enough to kill, hurt and damage anyone they saw as a threat. 

Tharmas’ console beeped, and he raised an eyebrow. “The structure of the walls here is… artificial,” he said. “Highly advanced construction, Captain. This entire area was engineered, not formed naturally.”

“Engineered?” Banfield repeated, leaning forward. She could sense something monumental, far greater than they had imagined, unfolding before them. “That would make sense based on what we know of the Nacene and their abilities.”

“Yes, Captain,” Tharmas confirmed. “The energy fields sustaining this environment are interwoven into the rock itself, almost like veins in a living organism. Whoever designed this didn’t just build a structure—they created a living ecosystem.”

The revelation sent a chill down Banfield’s spine, though she masked it with her Klingon resolve—a living ecosystem designed by ancient hands. If the Nacene were genuinely involved, this was an unparalleled discovery. Starfleet had only encountered them twice during Voyager’s tenure. Was this now another encounter? They needed to know more. 

“Keep scanning,” Banfield ordered. “We need to understand the full scope of what we’re dealing with.”

As the crew continued their analysis, a bright white light filled the cockpit, and the Ilumirian leader they had met suddenly appeared. 

“Danger, Captain Banfield and the crew of the Triton.” It said with concern in its voice. However, there was a double-edge tone. On one side, the Ilumirian sounded concerned; on the other, they sounded in agony.

Rising from her chair, Banfield looked at their visitor. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”

Nicus had stepped over from his station, with a tricorder in his hands scanning the Ilumirian. “Your lifesigns are fading.”

“It’s the poison that’s here, in the Veil’s sanctuary. It protects us. It keeps us alive, but it is not working.” The Ilumirian started to become weaker. 

“The poison? Do you mean the radiation?” Banfield quizzed. “We can help.” She quickly added.

“Please,” the Ilumirian pleaded before it faded away in a bright light. 

For a second, no one said anything. Most of them were still registering the shock of the Ilumirian’s arrival and departure.

Most of them.

“The Ilumirians cannot survive in this asteroid; the radiation is stopping them from entering,” T’Liana summarised. “If we do discover a tetryon reactor powering, whatever it is powering, then it would be right to assume the Nacene constructed this to keep them out.”

“But why keep them out?” Nicus asked. 

“To protect them?” Banfield suggested. “We know that the Caretaker that Voyager encountered protected the Ocampans after the Nacene devastated their world; maybe something similar happened here in the Veil. Let’s start looking for something that may have happened to explain why the Nacene could be here.”

Everyone moved back to the stations to look for something, a clue, a piece of evidence.

After almost four hours of work and still flying through the asteroid’s deep caverns, they had yet to find the reactor. Banfield was starting to wonder if they were following a dead end.  

Doctor Nicus’ console then flashed with new data. He glanced at it, and his slitted eyes widened. “Captain, I’m detecting residual traces of a catastrophic event.” 

Hearing that, Banfield got up from her station and placed the mug of raktajino she had replicated an hour ago down. “What is it doctor?” She was pleased to hear that they may have something to follow. 

“It appears there was once a disruption to the neurogenic fields—a massive destabilisation.” Nicus pointed to his reading. 

“Caused by what?” Banfield asked, already suspecting the answer.

Nicus looked up. “Something or someone caused the original field to collapse, which would have decimated the ecosystem here.”

Banfield frowned, her mind racing. “Sabotage?”

“Perhaps or accidental,” Nicus answered. “The data suggests that the neurogenic field was later stabilised, but it was a crude restoration, not as precise as the original design.”

Banfield exchanged a glance with T’Liana. “And if these markings are from the Nacene, it’s possible they’re responsible—either for the collapse, the repair or both. We know they did this to the Ocampa. Why not here in The Veil?”

T’Liana nodded. “I understand your logic, Captain, if it was true. If they caused the collapse, it is plausible that the Nacene intervened to restore the ecosystem. Perhaps they constructed this asteroid to house the reactor and to use it to prevent others from interferring.”

“And to keep the Veil’s ecosystem alive?” Banfield asked aloud. 

The pieces were beginning to fall into place, though there were still too many unknowns. Banfield could feel her pulse quicken. They were standing on the threshold of understanding a cosmic mystery, a puzzle that had its roots in one of the Delta Quadrant’s most enigmatic species. She wanted to know. She needed to know more. Discovering how the Veil’s origin would be a great accomplishment, while on the other hand, discovering if the Nacene had a hand in the Veil’s development or even survival was something they needed to know more about. 

“Captain,” CJ interrupted, “I’ve detected an area further ahead with stronger energy readings. If this entire asteroid was engineered, that section might hold the reactor we’ve been looking for.”

Banfield nodded decisively. “CJ, take us closer. Let’s see what secrets this place is hiding.”

The Calliste moved forward, gliding through the cavernous asteroid. The shimmering light of the neurogenic fields grew brighter as they advanced, painting the walls in ethereal blues and greens. The deeper they went, the more it felt like they were venturing into the heart of a sleeping giant.

As they neared the designated area, Banfield’s console beeped, drawing her attention to new sensor data. It was more refined and sharper now, indicating a structure within the asteroid. Her heart pounded in her chest as she anticipated what might be ahead. Looking down at her sensors, she started to see if she could work out what could be ahead of them, but Banfield was unsure. She switched from being a science officer and back to captain. 

“All stop,” Banfield ordered as they reached the edge of a massive chamber. “Scan the area. Let’s see what’s out there and get as much information as we can.”

As the Calliste entered the huge compartment deep within the asteroid, the away team was awestruck by the sight before them. A colossal, lattice-like structure was suspended in the cavernous space. Its shimmering surface was adorned with swirling energy streams that pulsed rhythmically, much like the energy signatures they had detected earlier. The towering and intricate structure bore a striking resemblance to Voyager’s descriptions of the Caretaker’s array. Its dark hull configuration and imposing statue were unimaginable. 

The array floated effortlessly in the zero-gravity environment, its angular arms extending outward, cradling the heart of the chamber. Dozens of smaller nodal points orbited around it, their movements synchronised like a dance. Energy fields rippled along its surface, flowing into conduits built directly into the walls of the asteroid, connecting the array to the surrounding ecosystem. Banfield’s instincts flared as she studied the immense device. The array was not dormant; it thrummed with life. She could sense it and feel the powerful energies coursing through it. It was not just a piece of technology—it was alive in some way, watching over the Veil.

“Just like the Caretaker’s array,” she whispered. 

Tharmas ran his scans, eyes widening as the data streamed in. “Captain, this chamber is a control hub. It’s the heart of the Veil. Everything is coming from this array.”

“Control hub?” Banfield repeated, her mind reeling. If this was the central system that maintained the entire Veil, it meant they were standing before something created by the Nacene themselves. They were powerful enough to pull ships across the galaxy, destroy entire worlds and move freely through subspace. This didn’t surprise Banfield if it was the Nacene.

Before she could issue her next order, the runabout was suddenly enveloped in a burst of light, and a strange energy signature filled the cabin. The entire crew froze, and Banfield’s heart raced as she sensed something was about to happen. She tried to react, but before she could move, something swept across them all, and they all disappeared along with the strange energy that had filled the cabin.

The Calliste sat there with no one longer in it.

Banfield stirred, her vision blurred, and her senses dulled as she gradually regained consciousness. The scent of damp soil and the sound of soft wind brushing against trees hit her before her eyes focused. As her vision cleared, she blinked in disbelief. Before her lay the stone courtyard of her family’s old home on Khitomer, a place she hadn’t seen since her youth. Her heart thudded in her chest, both comforted by the familiar surroundings and disturbed by their sudden appearance.

There was no way she had travelled that far. Had she? 

The architecture of the Klingon house loomed large, its dark, imposing stone walls rising like a fortress. The structure was rugged and utilitarian, reflecting the values of Klingon culture—strength, tradition, and endurance. Heavy wooden doors reinforced with iron stood at the front, flanked by torches burning softly despite the daylight. The smell of burning metal and incense drifted through the air. Thick vines crept along the walls, remnants of the colony’s natural reclamation over the years.

Banfield stood and ran her fingers over the weathered stone of the courtyard wall. She knew this place—the path that led to the training grounds, the view of the distant mountains where her mother had taken her hunting. But something was wrong. The silence weighed heavily, and despite the warmth of the sun and the familiarity, there was an eerie stillness.

“Computer, end program,” Banfield whispered, half-expecting this to be some bizarre holodeck simulation. No response. She didn’t believe she was indeed on Khitomer.

Banfield set her jaw and tapped her combadge. “Banfield to away team. Report.”

The combadge chirped to life with static; then a voice broke through. “This is Jisaraa. Captain, you’re not going to believe where we are.”

“I believe it already,” Banfield muttered to herself, making her way through the courtyard, her eyes scanning the environment for signs of life. She rounded the corner to find the rest of her away team emerging from different parts of the courtyard— Jisaraa, Nicus, CJ, Tharmas, and T’Liana. They all looked disoriented but unhurt.

“Captain,” CJ said as he approached, wide-eyed. “This is Khitomer, right?”

Banfield frowned but nodded. “This is a recreation of my family’s estate on Khitomer. But we are certainly not there.”

Tharmas glanced around, his eyes narrowing at the serene yet unsettling environment. “How did we get here? The last thing I remember was approaching the array inside the asteroid. Then a bright white light.”

“None of us have been injured,” Nicus added, putting his medical tricorder away. 

“I don’t think any of us are imagining this,” Banfield said. “It seems we’ve been transported, or… we’re in some sort of artificial recreation. This is too perfect to be real.”

T’Liana, always calm and precise, examined the area with her tricorder. “The captain is correct. This is not a physical location. Readings suggest we are inside a complex simulation, possibly projected by the array we encountered.”

CJ looked toward the grand entrance of the house, its massive wooden doors now standing eerily ajar. “Well, that’s freaky. Is this place haunted, Captain?”

Banfield let out a low, humourless chuckle. “It wasn’t haunted when I lived here, Lieutenant.”

“Reassuring,” CJ muttered.

Banfield stepped forward, her instincts urging her to take control. She gestured to the house. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with. Stay sharp.” She pulled out of her phaser and gripped it tightly.

With the team in tow, Banfield led them into the grand house. Inside, the dimly lit hall was precisely as she remembered it—dark wood floors, heavy tapestries, and the smell of burnt incense lingering in the air. It was a place of her childhood, of her Klingon heritage. The torches on the walls flickered as they moved deeper into the house, casting long shadows. Hanging high from the ceiling was her house’s banner. Various Klingon weapons were also on display. Statues of her ancestors also graised the hallway. 

Then, as they entered further into the main hall, a figure appeared in the doorway. Banfield’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the familiar face of her mother, Lynkarisa—stern, proud, and wearing her Klingon ceremonial robes. She stood tall, as imposing as ever.

“Corella, my daughter,” the figure said, her voice rich and commanding. “You’ve returned home.”

Banfield’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t her mother. Lynkarisa had retired years ago. She was a highly decorated ambassador and general. More than that, Banfield knew when something wasn’t right. She took a step forward, arms crossed. “You’re not her,” she said coldly, locking eyes with the figure. “Whoever or whatever you are, this is a poor attempt to deceive me.”

“Captain, I am not detecting Klingon DNA; I am detecting sporocystian energy,” Nicus declared from his tricorder. 

The Nacene, masquerading as Lynkarisa, tilted its head and smiled. “I meant no deception. I believed this form would put you at ease, captain.”

Banfield laughed, a short, clipped sound. “Ease? You have no idea what would put me at ease.” Her blood flared in her veins, making her bold. “Drop the charade and speak plainly. Why this recreation of my home? What do you want?”

The figure’s form flickered briefly as if it might shift into something else, but it held. “I wanted you to feel comfortable,” it replied. “I have brought you here to explain what is happening here.”

Banfield raised a brow, crossing her arms tightly. “Then stop pretending to be my mother and explain.”

The Nacene hesitated, and then the figure of Lynkarisa began to fade, revealing a taller, more ethereal figure—almost humanoid but now glowing faintly, their features fluid and otherworldly. Its skin shimmered with energy, its eyes large and filled with swirling lights.

“We are one of the Nacene,” it began. “We ventured into this galaxy long ago, seeking knowledge and expansion. But we were reckless. In our exploration, we caused damage—hurt civilisations and destroyed ecosystems. The Veil is one such wound in space.”

Banfield’s thoughts raced—the Caretaker. The parallels were immediate. “So, like the Caretaker,” she said, “you’ve stayed to repair the damage you caused.”

The Nacene nodded. “Indeed. I rebuilt the Veil’s barriers to protect the delicate ecosystems we disrupted. Over time, I realised I could not leave. I sought others to help maintain what we had damaged so I could return home.”

T’Liana, standing beside Banfield, glanced at the Nacene. “And yet, it appears you have failed in that endeavour.”

The Nacene’s expression softened. “Every being that has entered the Veil has been unable to survive. Only you and your crew have endured this long.”

Banfield folded her arms again. “We survived because we sought peaceful contact with the Ilumirians. They’re intelligent, resourceful, and capable of taking on this responsibility.”

The Nacene tilted the head-shape part of its body. “The Ilumirians are young and do not fully understand the complexities of the Veil.”

Banfield stepped closer, her passion for the Ilumirians compelling her forward, unwilling to back down. “They may be young but have the heart and strength to learn. You need to trust them. They are the right ones to take over from you.”

The Nacene stood silent for a long moment, considering her words. Then, with a sudden flicker, the surroundings of Banfield’s childhood home vanished, replaced by the sterile, metallic core of the array. Banfield and her team stood at the heart of its workings, surrounded by the humming of Nacene technology.

With tricorders in their hands, the rest of the away team was trying to determine what was happening.

“Captain, the epsilon radiation has gone,” Jisaraa announced.

The Ilumirian leaders then appeared in a blink, their luminescent forms floating gracefully in the space.

The Nacene spoke again, this time addressing the Ilumirians directly. “We will provide enough power from our reactor to sustain the outer barrier of the Veil for a thousand years. In return, you must vow to protect it.”

The Ilumirians exchanged glances, their glowing forms pulsing in unison. It was clear they were surprised at the sudden change of surroundings and finding themselves before the Nacene and the Triton team, though one look at Banfield and her crew appeared to calm them. After Banfield summarised what was going on and what she had proposed to Nance, the Ilumirian leadership nodded in agreement. 

“We accept this responsibility.”

Satisfied, the Nacene bowed. “Then it is done.”

In the next instant, Banfield and her away team were back on the Triton’s bridge. Before they could catch their breath, CJ’s console lit up with activity. 

“Captain, I’m reading a coherent tetryon beam scanning us,” CJ reported. His tone grew alarmed as he added, “And… I’m detecting a displacement wave heading straight for us!”

Banfield’s instincts flared. “Red alert! All power to shields!”

“Shields are up, captain!” Jisaraa reported.

The Triton shuddered as the displacement wave hit, pushing them violently through space. The Veil disappeared from their view, and they found themselves back in normal space, safe but shaken.

Banfield stood from her chair, exhaling deeply. “CJ, status report.”

CJ looked up, visibly relieved. “We’re back in normal space, Captain. We’re outside the Veil.”

“On screen,” Banfield said as she pulled her uniform jacket down to straighten it. 

Immediately, the viewscreen changed to show what was before them. They were outside the Veil, just as CJ had said and far away from being pulled in again.

“T’Liana, scan the Veil’s barrier. Has it changed in composition in any way?” Banfield asked.

Jen, who had been startled by everyone’s sudden appearance and the quick action that had taken place, quickly calmed himself down as he approached Banfield’s side. “Gut instinct on something, ma’am?” He asked quietly.

She nodded to her first officer while waiting to hear what T’Liana had found.

“Captain, the density of the barrier has significantly increased since our departure from the Veil,” T’Liana reported. “I am not certain anyone would be able to break it.”

“Launch a series of probes to explore the circumference of the Veil. If the entire barrier on all sides appears to be of the same density, then we will move on,” Banfield ordered. She took one more glance back at the Veil and wondered just how well things between the Nacene and the Illumerian were going. 

All well, she hoped.