Lieutenant Frank Levine lounged in the pilot’s chair of his shuttlecraft. He was 7 hours into his transit to the USS Truckee, and was starting to worry he might finish his book before reaching his destination. Saving his progress, he set down the PADD and sat up in his chair. A few taps on the control panel brought up his transfer orders. It would be good to review them once more.

Starfleet Intelligence was sending him to the Truckee to collect information on a gravimetric anomaly that had been detecting on long-range sensors. Not much had been gleaned at such a distance, but apparently the nerds in the basement were excited about something they’d seen. So Frank was on his way to get more information. More importantly, he was on his way to make sure nobody else got their hands on that information.

Frank didn’t know Captain Beardsly of the USS Truckee, but he did know Beardsly was unaware of two things: the nature of Frank’s assignment, and the presence of the anomaly. At least, not yet. Frank’s secondary tasking was to ensure Captain Beardsly remained unaware of his mission, though he would find out about the anomaly soon enough. For the sake of secrecy, the crew of the Truckee needed to believe they had stumbled upon the situation organically. Therefore, the Truckee had received notice they’d be taking on a passenger to help with some minor post-shakedown maintenance. Nothing dangerous, but it required a specialist: Frank Levine.

An hour later, after reviewing the technical specifications of the Truckee‘s Bussard collectors one last time, Frank checked the shuttlecraft’s sensors. Seeing the Truckee, he pinged the starship and dropped out of warp.

“Commander, shuttlecraft Yosemite is coming into range and dropping out of warp.” The young ensign sitting at the Ops panel reported. It was the night shift. Lieutenant Commander Dhalan Nhar had started taking shifts in order to qualify as a bridge officer. Tonight, she sat in the captain’s chair, with the XO next to her as an over-instruct. He remained quiet, silently observing and evaluating her work.

“Very well, ensign. Welcome them to dock at…” Dhalan Nhar checked the panel on her chair arm. “Docking bay 2. Inform docking bay 2 of the incoming shuttle.” She then stole a glance at Commander Aldiib, but his unchanged demeanor offered her nothing.

Dhalan paused, considering what to do next. Did the captain care to greet their visitor? No, she recalled he had specifically mentioned he didn’t need to be woken for that. So… the XO should greet him. But the XO was here, monitoring her, and he couldn’t leave her here. So… did that mean she should go greet this Lieutenant Levine herself? Dhalan Nhar decided that was the correct course of action.

Watching the viewscreen just long enough to verify the shuttle had adjusted course to start maneuvering into their shuttlebay, Dhalan stood up. “I’m going to welcome our visitor.” She turned to face tactical. “Lieutenant, you have the conn.”

Feeling confident in her decision, Dhalan did not look at her XO for confirmation. She simply strode towards the turbo lift doors. Behind her, Commander Aldiib followed.

The shuttlecraft door opened and the small craft began to power down. A couple enlisted crew members swarmed in to start their inspections, and Lieutenant Levine stepped out. Before him stood two officers, whom he recognized from their files. At first he didn’t understand why the doctor was there, but clarity came quickly as she spoke first.

“Welcome to the Truckee, Lieutenant Levine. I’m Lieutenant Commander Nhar, this is Commander Aldiib, our XO. How was the trip out?”

Levine stepped forward, saluting quickly. “Thank you, commanders. The trip was uneventful, which was fine. Allowed me the chance to do some non-technical reading. Permission to come aboard?”

“Permission granted,” Nhar replied. “Yeoman Niles here will show you to your quarters, and if you’d like a tour, he’ll provide that as well. I will return to the bridge for now. Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Rakes, is holding a briefing for the Bussard collectors at 0900. Report to her then.”

Levine nodded, accepting his orders. When neither the under-instruction nor the XO spoke further, Frank Levine turned to the patiently-waiting yeoman and gestured towards the shuttle bay doors. Since they hadn’t mentioned anything unusual yet, Frank assumed the ship had yet to detect the anomaly. Based on their position, he figured they’d come into sensor range just before that morning briefing. He would get up a little early, anticipating that briefing to be canceled.

“Lieutenant Rakes, report to the bridge.” Kim sighed as she reversed direction and headed back to the turbolift. She’d been about three steps from Engineering before the order came over her comm badge. She ordered the lift to the bridge, then tapped her own badge.

“On my way. Rakes to Engineering. Donnovan, start the briefing without me. You know what needs to be done. I’ve been called to the bridge.”

Her order acknowledged, Rakes drummed her fingers on her belt. She didn’t like when operations pulled her away from Engineering. A chief engineer should basically live in Engineering. Hell, Kim would set up a bunk down there in a second if she thought Captain Beardsly would allow it. But, she was begrudgingly coming around to the fact that it was sometimes beneficial to having the chief engineer on the bridge. Emphasis on sometimes.

The turbolift spat her out onto the bridge. Lieutenant Rakes paused to assess the situation. Photon torpedoes didn’t seem to be flying at them… but, a second later, yellow alert sounded. Captain Beardsly must’ve given the order the second before she arrived.

Commander Aldiib stepped away from his conversation with the tactical officer on duty and approached Kim.

“Lieutenant, take your station and coordinate with Lieutenant Commander Bishop at ops. We are responding to a distress call from a ship in an unusual anomaly. Details are sparse at this range, so report what you find as you find it.”

Kim nodded. “Aye sir.” Taking her station at the back of the bridge, she signed in and linked her panel to share data with the ops panel. Bishop had already started a running summary of what he’d found, which Kim scanned through quickly.

After a gracious five minute delay, Captain Beardsly called out to Kim. “Alright Lieutenant Rakes, Commander Bishop, tell me what you know.”

Bishop spoke first, updating the bridge crew on the anomaly itself. Origins were unknown for now, but it appeared to be a newly-formed singularity. Which was odd, considering there hadn’t been a requisite collapsing star anywhere near the target coordinates. Kim hadn’t really been paying attention, and was instead poring over the data packet the ship in distress had sent.

Realizing the bridge had been silent a moment, Kim looked up to see the captain patiently staring at her. Waiting.

Kim took a breath, pausing from her update of the summary she’d been helping to compile. Glancing over it once more, she began her report. “Captain, I’ve been reviewing the data we received from the ship in distress. It’s a civilian science vessel. At least, that’s what they identified themselves as. Looks like a repurposed dilithium tanker to me. Anyway, they were ripped out of warp by the anomaly without warning. Must’ve been extremely unlucky with timing. The damage from the sudden deceleration is preventing them from escaping, but for the moment their impulse engines are holding position.”

Captain Beardsly considered both reports, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. “How close can we get? Can we tractor them? Beam them out? How did this thing form?”

Kim reeled at the onslaught of questions. “Ah, I don’t have answers to any of those questions yet sir. We’re not even sure what it is yet. But I’d recommend we drop to impulse a light minute out. Can’t save them if we fall in too.”

Captain Beardsly grimaced, then nodded. “Very well. Helm, you heard the Lieutenant. Take us in.”

The Truckee raced to the rescue, barreling towards an unknown anomaly and an unknown threat.

“Holding position one light minute out from anomaly, captain.”

Captain Beardsly acknowledged the report from helm with a nod that the helmsman couldn’t see. He waited patiently for an update from ops.

“Getting better sensor readings now. Life signs are… Klingon, sir. They are now hailing us.” Bishop announced.

“Klingon scientists, in a repurposed freighter, eh? Something is not as it seems here. Stay on your toes everyone, on screen.” Beardsly sat up a little straighter in his chair and prepared himself.

The image of a battered old freighter in front of him was replaced with a snarling Klingon face.

“This is captain Klarn! What do you want, Starfleet?”

Marcus Beardsly raised an eyebrow. “This is Captain Beardsly and the USS Truckee. We got your distress call… did you not want any assistance?”

The Klingon commander snorted and waived a hand dismissively. “That was sent by my former first officer. He is… feeding the targs now.” The Klingon chuckled at his own joke, then continued. “We found this anomaly first, and claim its secrets.”

Commander Aldiib met eyes with Marcus and furrowed his brow, as if to say claiming scientific analysis?

Marcus stood and took a few steps towards the viewscreen. “Ah, hm.” Not very professional, but the Klingon’s response had stumped him. “We have no interest in stopping your scientific research. But our sensors show you’re in a bit of a bind… We just came to help you break free. We can tractor onto you and pull you out…?”

Klarn scowled at Marcus. He looked about to dismiss him entirely, but then turned his head, as if listening to someone off screen. Turning back towards the viewscreen, Klarn’s expression had softened slightly. “My engineer tells me this useless bucket of bolts will become two buckets of bolts if I don’t accept…”

Marcus waited patiently, working to keep a smirk off his face.

“…I accept, damn it! Pull us out of here before we’re crushed. I still expect you to keep your sensors on passive only. No interrogative! This is OUR anomaly.” Klarn practically spit the last words.

Wasting no time, Marcus began issuing orders. “Helm, bring us in close. Slowly. I want to maximize distance. Engineering, see what kind of boost you can provide to the tractor beam. I need range. Ops, keep an eye on the gravimetric distortions. Eyes open, people. There won’t be another ship coming to the rescue if we get pulled in.”

Orders acknowledged, the bridge crew flew into action. The ship’s impulse engines flared to life, pushing the little California-class ship in towards the trapped freighter. A keen observer would notice the deflector dish started to glow a little brighter, right before a translucent, blue-green tractor beam lunged out and grabbed hold of the freighter.

“Captain, tractor beam locked. We have them.” Lieutenant Commander Bishop reported. “Distortions are getting worse. Shields are unable to completely protect us.”

As if to punctuate his warning, the ship rocked suddenly. Hands gripped armrests and panels as the bridge crew struggled to keep their feet.

Marcus glanced quickly at Klarn on the viewscreen. “We’ve got you.” Then, he sat back down in his seat and braced himself. “Helm, get us out of here. Full reverse.”

The Truckee began to back away. Marcus allowed himself a breath, realizing he’d been holding it. The ship had almost stopped shuddering when he saw Klarn’s eyes grow wide with rage on the viewscreen.

“What are you doing?! We told you this data was ours! I will not allow you to possess it.” The transmission ended, replaced with an image of the freighter and the heart of the anomaly in the backdrop.

“Captain, they’re charging weapons! They’re firing!” The tactical officer sputtered in disbelief. Suddenly, a green disruptor beam lanced out from the freighter’s bow. Whether through shear tactical genius or pure luck, the disruptor beam passed straight through the Truckee‘s shields, which were barely holding on against the anomaly’s effects. Striking the port nacelle, the disruptor carved a jagged path along the ship’s plating and into the delicate warp coils.

Lights on the bridge flickered. The ship lurched, and this time Marcus couldn’t keep his balance. He tumbled out of his chair, only to be caught by his XO before bashing his face into the floor.

“Report.” commanded Peldun Aldiib, in a calm but serious tone.

“Main power at 66%. Our port warp coil overloaded. Tractor beam is out… The Klingon vessel is falling into the anomaly. We are falling into the anomaly!” Bishop announced with alarm. This little ‘adventure’ was a far cry from the type of duty he craved. Nothing beat an empty duty shift, with nothing to do but science.

Marcus watched in horror as the anomaly grew on their screen.

In the astrometrics lab, Lieutenant Frank Levine pulled a data chip from the console and slipped it into his pocket. He’d collected all the information he needed. Mission accomplished. He deleted his tracks in the computer, then exited the electronic backdoor he’d used to access the ship’s sensor array. There’d be no trace of his work here, and he’d left his badge in a corner of Engineering so he couldn’t be tracked.

Slipping into the jeffries tube, Frank closed the wall panel behind him and made his way back to Engineering.

0800 next day, Briefing Room

“I’ve done a full sweep of the area, sir. There’s no sign of the freighter. By that I mean no ship, no debris, no energy signatures. According to my sensors, they were pulled into the anomaly, but after that, I have no data.” Bishop finished his report, shaking his head. He had no idea what the fate of that ship was. He’d watched it disappear right before his eyes. At the time, he’d been more concerned with his imminent demise, but since that clearly hadn’t happened… The mystery bothered him.

“…and what about us, Mr. Bishop? Why are we still here?” Marcus prompted his head of science department.

Bishop awkwardly pushed himself back to his feet. “Ah, apologies sir. The anomaly appeared to simply cease to exist. Sensors show it disappeared the precise moment the freighter reached the center, but I have no explanation as to why. I was not” he emphasized, “utilizing active sensors, but even passively-collected data should show some sort of radiation surge or gravimetric pulse from an anomaly of that kind. Instead, we picked up nothing.”

Marcus turned his head to stare out the viewport. This had been a disaster. There was no other way to describe it. They’d botched a rescue attempt, apparently provoked an attack, and almost lost their own ship because of it. They were only alive due to circumstances they couldn’t even explain! Marcus lightly tapped the table with his closed fist, managing to contain the majority of his frustration.

“Very well. I expect full departmental reports by end of day. Dismissed.” As the senior staff shuffled out, Marcus began mentally drafting his own report. Probably my last report as captain, he thought.

Frank Levine sat at his desk in his quarters. The lights were off, and his face was only barely lit by the glow of his console. The private theatrics were the one whim he allowed himself. He was alone, out of danger, not even suspected. There was no need to be secretive at this point.

He keyed up a transmission to his mission handler, who was manning a desk at spacedock for appearances’ sake. Frank sighed when the call didn’t connect. Was the man asleep? He was about to try again, when he realized… the problem wasn’t a lack of response. The transmission wasn’t going through. In fact, the ship wasn’t even connecting to the communication relay in the next sector.

Frank logged into the ship’s sensor grid. Checking long range logs, Frank narrowed his eyes. There was nothing. Past their immediate sector… sensors were reading nothing at all.