“You fucking bitch! At least I shall have the pleasure of my knife in your chest, even as I die!”

Murder flashed, incandescent, in the eyes Legate Gohiarr Dac, as the True Way terrorist came at her, spittle flecked upon his cold grey lips as he lunged heedlessly with his blade – all caution case aside as the skeletal Grand Ballroom buckled and tore with a nightmarish scream of tortured metal as the singularity inevitably tore the fated Starliner, Tonino Delli Colli, to pieces with unimaginable tidal forces.

All was darkness and fractured chaos – jagged, violent staccato flashes of light as all around her was devoured by the sure annihilation of the immense gravitational forces of the black hole.

Her mind reeling and her own face a rictus of terror, Commander Samantha Hyland reacted without thinking – preoccupied with her own imminent demise.

Sam’s hand lashed out, her fingers desperately grasping an unfamiliar object in the garish kaleidoscope of strobing as the irresistible forces began to stretch even light itself – teasing the spectrum of observable photons into a thin stream that hurt to look at.

At her side, Marshall H’odahl shak’Mad threw back her thick dreadlocks and laughed uproariously, unafraid to die – the former Sovereignty of Khaless reactionary – held her drink up high and her coarse voice could be heard bellowing the Warrior’s Anthem – audible even above the cacophony of destruction – as she rode the singularity to oblivion.

“Qoy qeylIs puqloD.

Qoy puqbe’pu’.

yoHbogh matlhbogh je SuvwI’

Say’moHchu’ may’ ‘Iw.

maSuv manong ‘ej maHoHchu’.

nI’be’ yInmaj ‘ach wovqu’.

batlh maHeghbej ‘ej yo’ qIjDaq vavpu’ma’ DImuv.

pa’ reH maSuvtaHqu’.

mamevQo’. maSuvtaH. ma’ov!!!”

With a blood-curdling scream of pure hatred, the Cardassian was on her – his wicked blade scything down towards her, as Sam brought her own hand arcing upwards, the d’k tahg that she had instinctively plucked from the Klingon’s belt – slamming heavily up under the breastbone of Legate Gohiarr Dac’s broad chest – his own forward momentum driving the dagger deeper into the chest cavity – a sickening wash of warm bloody rushing down her arm in a coppery – deluge, as surprise replaced murderous rage behind the Legate’s eyes.

But Sam had no time to reflect upon this death.

With a sinking feeling that always accompanied this moment, over the gathering storm that was the maw of the singularity inhaling all matter around her into its event horizon, a horrible keening sound burrowed into her paralyzed mind and Samantha fervently wished that she would not turn around to face its source.

She willed herself not to do so, with every fiber of her being – but was nauseated by the knowledge that she would inevitably do so (as she always could not help doing) and would be forced to confront the source of that awful sound.

She turned.

What began as a terrible keening sound of animal distress, soon intensified in amplitude and pitch as the Orion Syndicate Underboss Shadreck Deen was slowly torn apart by the compelling and competing forces of “Spaghettification.”

Samantha’s mind reeled at the unnatural sight as a sentient being was teased apart by the murderous, crushing gravitational pull of the singularity – becoming a terrifying Slenderman, a marionette of pain as tendrils of his living flesh were teased from his body – as if the Orion was being gradually unpicked on a demon’s – loom.

Shadreck Deen screamed his terrible scream, endlessly echoing his doom & Sam screamed with him, her hands coming to her head – sure that in mere moments, she would begin to be subject to the same terror – inducing forces and begin to experience the agony of her own body and mind being slowly torn – apart.

He screamed and she screamed with him, and it was as though their scream merged and became one – coalescing into the same entity of madness, terror and pain…..

…and Samantha Hyland found herself sitting bolt upright in the darkness, tangled and constrained by sweat – sodden sheets – her eyes wide with panic and confusion in an unfamiliar space.

Outside the viewport – the stars streamed past, unconcerned, as the USS Valley Forge made its way at warp to their destination.

Samantha’s slender frame was wracked with uncontrollable sobs as she came to terms with her night- terror and gradually recognised that she was safe in the Captain’s quarters aboard the Excelsior II – class starship, that had become both her home and hermitage over the last 5 months.

“Lights.” Samantha managed to say, as she fought to free her legs from the embrace of her bedclothes and swung her feet unsteadily to the floor.

“Jesus Christ.” She held her head in her shaking hands, her fine blonde hair matted from her nightmarish extortions.

“Jesus Christ….” She breathed again, trying to dispel the haunting images of those final moments in the Cattivo Industries Recycling Facility, before the USS Albion had swooped in at the 11^th hour – to beam her away and spare her from the same fate, as the singularity consumed everyone remaining within its effect at Vannis – Ursus #3.

Eventually, she mastered the resolve to stand and managed to make her way to the shower. Eschewing the more modern sonic ablution, Sam opted to stand under a scalding stream of steaming hot water in an attempt to scour away the traumatic memories of her near – death.

It didn’t work, but at least it served to fully wake her up – meaning that she earned a reprieve from the recurring nightmare that had been eroding her sanity for night after exhausting night.

Re-entering her small private sitting room, Sam ordered a hot – cup of smoky black Lapsang – Souchong tea from the replicator and sat down at the desk terminal – cradling the blue earthenware vessel in both hands, finding reassurance and the sensation of warmth through her cupped palms and letting the aroma settle her nerves.

The delicious Dr Langah had suggested that Samantha engage in chronicling her thoughts when she experienced these unsettling dreams, journalling her terror as a means of externalizing the experience and coming to terms with the emotional impact on her mental health.

Normally resistant to therapy, Samantha had to admit that she could listen to Jahanshir Langah recite a laundry list in that beautiful smooth Pakistani voice of his and so had relented and acquiesced to the Chief Medical Officer’s direction.

“Computer, resume Captain’s personal log from last entry.”

=^= Recording=^=, the dulcet tones of the ship’s computer confirmed.

Samantha took a deep breath and began.

“So…. I had the dream again…. obviously.” Hyland remarked dryly and wet her throat with a sip of the tea.

“It’s the same as it is every night. Terrifying. Repetitive. Exhausting.” Samantha admitted. “I’m assured that this is a normal symptom of survivor’s guilt. Lord knows, I have that in abundance. But its more than that, my guilt runs far deeper – owes a more abiding debt – than being thankful for my own survival.”

Samantha paused and brushed a tear from the corner of one eye with the tip of her little finger, annoyed at herself. She resumed her confession.

“I’m guilty of letting Kennedy down. Guilty of squandering her loyalty and failing to prove her innocence. Varda is in the wind. She betrayed everyone and everything, including her promise to provide the means to exonerate Kennedy and now my friend is resigned to spend 20 years in a Federation Penal Colony for a crime that I know she did not commit. How’s that for guilt?”

Samantha paused the recording as she fought to regain her composure, lost for a while at the hypnotic view of the bright starfield streaming past.

“I was complicit, albeit indirectly, in D’Taani Varada’s willful murder of all those aboard the Tonino Delli Colli. It doesn’t matter that they were pirates, terrorists, murders and criminals. Whatever their crimes, they were living, sentient beings and they deserved to face proper justice – not sentenced to summary justice by Varada. I failed to capture her and now she’s escaped somewhere to wreak her havoc some other day. My only reassurance is that the stolen Genesis data was also destroyed by the singularity.”

Sam shook her head ruefully, a broken & humorless laugh escaping the prison of her throat.

“And what did they do? They went and promoted me!”

She made a show of looking around the Captain’s quarters and back to the camera.

“They pinned those pips on me and gave me my own command, a real starship command. Certainly not the outcome I was expecting – I thought I would be inhabiting the prison cell next – door to Kennedy Zhao for what I did at Daystrom. Certainly not the way I pictured myself finally gaining my own ship, that’s for sure.”

Samantha laughed bitterly.

“What a joke. On one hand, my part in that shambles rid the Federation of a number of particularly troublesome thorns in their collective side. But on the other, they couldn’t exactly telegraph the criminal actions undertaken by myself and the crew of the USS Albion so, of course, it was preferable to parcel me off to the ass – end – of – nowhere and give me a duty so far away as to practically guarantee that I can’t cause them anymore embarrassing conflicts of interest ever again.”

Captain Samantha Hyland took another sip of her tea and decided that being maudlin was unseemly, she had willing entered into the conspiracy of honor, in an attempt to try and save an innocent person and she knew that, if the situation presented her with a similar choice, she would make the same decision without a second thought.

It was who she was. It was the Starfleet way. Her way, at least.

She shook her head again, deciding that unburdening her soul would do little to assuage her guilt. At times like this, Sam reflected, only a run would stand any chance of exorcising her personal demons sufficiently enough to face another day in the ‘Big-Chair’.

“Computer, pause recording.” Sam directed as she rose and went to dress in her active – wear.

=^= Recording paused =^= the computer affirmed without judgement.

“Waste of bloody time anyway….”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Location: USS Valley Forge, Deck 11, Portside main corridor.

“I heard that she murdered her own father.”

“No! Really? How is she even walking around free then?!”

“I heard that it was a whole Federation science team.” Insinuated a third voice, “Some place in the Primar – Majoris system.”

“Where?!” The second voice sounded puzzled.

“Some shithole third – contact backwater, by all accounts.” The third voice explained conspiratorially “And she didn’t murder anyone, but I did hear a lot of people died and she was connected somehow.”

Leading Crewman Larissa Kane (the first speaker) looked slightly put out at her “Scuttlebutt” being scuttled by Petty Officer 3^rd Class Kul Danne and she interjected.

“Well, I have it on good authority from a friend that works on the Engineering Team at Starbase 72, that was told by another friend that knows for a fact that half of Spacedock was almost atomized by the USS Savannah, when she was in command of it!” Crewman Kane crowed smugly.

Crewman Sean Harvey, Kane’s partner on the maintenance detail, looked at her with eyes wide.

“She tried to blow up Spacedock?!” The impressionable young rating breathed incredulously.

“Well, “apparently” it “may” have been a New Marquis terrorist thing, or some such!” Kane waved her hand irritably, clearly annoyed that the truth was forced to get in the way of her juicy yarn. “But the real point is that TROUBLE follows that woman around and now she’s in command of THIS ship.”

Not wishing to be outdone, Petty Officer 3rd Class Danne began to replace the maintenance cover to the EPS hatch that the team had been conducting a level 3 diagnostic on, and he began.

“Well, that’s nothing – I heard that…..” Kul began and then stopped abruptly. His Bolian features flushing a darker blue of embarrassment.

“You heard what?” Kane raised an eyebrow, impatient to see if her colleague’s gossip was going to trump her own.

“Yeah Kul….” Sean demanded impatiently…” What did you hear?”

Petty Officer 3^rd Class Kul Danne remained steadfastly mute but appeared to be trying to signal something frantically with his eyes.

A firm, cultured voice spoke from behind Kane and Harvey, making the pair jump and wince simultaneously.

“Yes, Petty Officer Danne, what exactly did you hear about our new Captain? Pray DO tell, I’m sure that we are all dying to know?” Spoke Commander Daniel Talland, the Executive Officer of the USS Valley Forge, as he stood impassively behind, arms folded.

“Nossir, I ….no..nothing Commander.” Kul managed to splutter and did an excellent impression of actively trying to will himself to disappear up his own tightly puckered asshole.

Commander Talland’s smooth coffee – colored features crinkled in consternation.

“Nothing?” His rich, English – accented voice was a study of pretended confusion. “You mean to tell me that three members of this crew, tasked to complete an extensive Level – 3 diagnostic of the EPS distribution of this entire deck, have completed this important task with such expediency, that they have sufficient time to spare to stand around and swap unsubstantiated rumors about the character and background of the Commanding Officer of that same vessel? Is that what you’re telling me?”

All three crewmembers looked remarkably like they would prefer to be, literally, anywhere else aboard ship right now as Kul stammered.

“No…Nossir…..”

Commander Talland frowned…

“Nossir…I thought not.” He turned to Kane and Harvey. “You two – seeing as you seem to hold your technical acumen in such high esteem, when you have completed diagnostics on this deck – you will report to Ensign Kirov and tell Yevgeny that I am so impressed with your confidence and application – that I want you both to head up an important working – group to deal with the ongoing biomass reclamation issues on Deck 18. Dismissed!”

Crewmen Kane and Harvey gawped at the XO for a moment, until their better judgement overcame, and they scurried off down the corridor.

Commander Talland turned to the Bolian Petty – Officer, his face a mask of irritation.

“Petty Officer Danne, I expect better from one of my NCO’s than to indulge in scuttlebutt. I expect them to lead by example, not lead junior ratings astray.” Daniel commented poignantly.

“Yes, Commander. Sorry Commander.” Kul managed as he stood to attention before the displeasure of the Executive Officer.

“If you don’t feel that you can consistently apply yourself to the execution of that duty, Petty Officer, please do let me know and I can arrange for a demotion for you – to relieve you of that responsibility?”

“Nossir…. I mean Yessir…I mean…” The Bolian stammered.

“I know what you mean, Petty Officer.” Commander Talland nodded knowingly. “Now, don’t you have pressing duties demanding your attention elsewhere, H’mmm?”

Petty Officer Kul Danne hurried to gather up his toolkit and nodded obsequiously.

“Absolutely. Sorry Sir.”

Commander Daniel Talland smiled as the Petty Officer cowered past him. Managing the rumor and innuendo (known colloquially as “Scuttlebutt”) that was rife and endemic aboard any starship, was a routine task for an XO. Daniel also knew that, especially with a young and untested crew – such as that which had been assigned recently to the Valley Forge, it was of key importance to make the crew fear that the XO was all-knowing, as omnipotent as God and basically everywhere, always, at once.

He called out to the retreating Bolian as he hurried gratefully away.

“OH, and Petty Officer Danne?”

Kul cringed and turned slowly, with trepidation.

“Yes Commander?”

In a good-natured voice, Talland warned, “The next time you feel like “talking – smack” and spreading conjecture about the Captain, I suggest that you have the backbone to actually go up to the woman and actually ask her about it – herself. That, at least, would show that you have some actual balls.”

“Yessir! Sorry Sir!”

“Carry on, Petty Officer. Dismissed!”

insouciance

/ɪnˈsuːsɪəns/

noun

• casual lack of concern; indifference: “an impression of boyish insouciance”

Ellis Pennington awoke to discover that he was starting the day in pretty much his Favorite way – in a tangle of enthusiastic limbs.

Ensign Tobin (Micheal from last night. Thigh – shudderingly dark looks, smile as light as a morning breeze) was doing something unexpected, but equally welcome, in his crotch.

At the same time, the Andorian Ethar Ch’zyqon was doing something extremely complex and complimentary in his nether regions with her antennae and even Ellis (as a reasonably worldly – Risian) had to admit that THAT was a new experience for him – which being actually new was (in turn) extremely exciting for a young body, with a soul so jaded as his.

Sometimes it sucked to be the Risian, sometimes the Risian sucked you. If you were really lucky, someone else did it without a safe – word.

Ellis was just trying to explore some suitably witty and erudite way to express this sentiment for maximum sexual impact, whilst retaining his boyism charm (and not to best distract Ethar from the miracles she was performing back there), when his deliriously deleterious tangle of arms and desires was suddenly interrupted by a harsh admonishment and the impact of a rather painful object in his left buttock.

“OW! Fucking WHAT!” Ellis roared and his body instinctively jerked away from the source of pain – which sadly caused Micheal to lose focus on his own source of pleasure and Ellis Pennington’s morning went to shit – just like that.

Liliana Tobin stood framed in suddenly – blinding light from the doorway, her silhouette quivering in abject outrage as she screamed thusly:

“You absolute fucking BASTARD!” Her voice hysteric. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought that you fucking LOVED ME!”

Ensign Micheal Tobin extricated himself from betwixt Ellis and made a fair attempt and extricating himself from the tangle of sheets and human/Andorian lovers – whilst all the while making an admirable ‘Hail – Mary’ attempt to quantify the – rather sticky love – triangle his wife had suddenly encountered him entwined within.

“Lilli…” Micheal began…” Oh my darling! I’m so SORRY my love! It was just a crazy moment of…”

Petty Officer Liliana Tobin took up another ornament and hurled the glassware at the manage – a – trois, that she had caught “in – coitus”, a look of fury in her eye and the curl of upset hair.

“Not You, Mike!!” Tears cascaded down her face and her shoulder’s slumped in recognition and defeat.

Ensign Micheal Tobin managed to draw his magnificent chest to his elbows and looked thoroughly confused.

“Ellis…. really? How COULD you?” Liliana sobbed and that was when Ensign Ellis Pennington decided that discretion had just royally – fucked the better points of valor and a hasty retreat was the only way to save anything tangible from the rout that this morning’s most – delicious root had disappointingly just become.

“And I didn’t even come.” Ellis thought sadly, as he reached for his clothing.

The Andorian, Leading Crewman Ethar Ch’zyqon, laughed lightly and rolled onto her smooth, blue back – lighting a thin cheroot of pungent Choan and reflecting on how hot – blooded humans always were and wondering if Ellis might actually not be as cold – blooded as she?

Micheal was now looking from his intruding wife to his exfiltrating lover, with such a look of beautiful, stupid confusion on his handsome face, that Ellis momentarily considered fucking him again and somehow convincing Liliana to overlook the whole affair and embrace a (hitherto) Undiscovered Country of liberal – extremism and join them; one that he was pretty much sure, from hard experience, that she didn’t really possess.

“Solitude sharpens awareness of small pleasures otherwise lost.” Ellis reflected on his Kevin Patterson, with a small smile.

“Lili – My Angel.” Ensign Ellis Pennington shrugged as he pulled on his boots and smoothly pushed his way past the jilted lovers and out into the corridor.

“Love’s such a ‘Pejorative’ – term, don’t you think?”

Ellis smiled, in that disarmingly boyish way of his, “Look – I’m super – late for work, but I’d love to explore this whole…thing…whatever this is… with both you and Micheal later, when I get off bridge – duty? What say we all meet later at the “Last Resort” for drinks and then we can all talk this out? Hey? Ethar here, could come too? She makes the BEST Andorian Spritz! BLOW your fucking – mind, believe me!”

Ethar Ch’zyqon rolled her pale blue eyes and exhaled a billowing – column of smoke from her lips and made an unhelpful “I – don’t – really – think – so” gesture with a flap of her slim hand.

Despite his particular lineage and the genetic heritage that made him positively exude a pheromonic onslaught of sexual allure – if Ensign Ellis Pennington had one secret weapon – it was assuredly his apparent boyish innocence.

If the USS Valley Forge’s combat encounters were cross referenced with its young Helmsman’s sexual encounters on an even keel and an algorithm for whom was the most effective was arrived at – the Excelsior-II would still be in drydock and Ellis would be being studied, in depth, by the finest minds of the ASDB.

“What? I Don’t…” Liliana began as Ellis breezed past and brushed her cheek with his lips.

“Lili, love you babe, honestly – I do! Complicated – VERY! Talk later.” Ellis made a small bow and prayer shape with his hands as he extricated himself from the awkwardness he had created.

He smiled at Liliana’s gorgeous husband, with no small amount of genuine regret. The man was SMOKING, far more so than his wife.

“Micheal, my darling– don’t get up lovely – repose, be just the way you are, where you are!” Pennington squeezed his elbow and somehow was already at the Turbolift.

“Ethi, you beautiful blue – bitch! – Call me!” Ellis winked, impishly miming tapping his comm – badge, as the Turbolift – doors hissed shut.

Leading Crewman Ethar Ch’zyqon laughed again and drew on her cheroot – her vertiginous Andorian antennae writhing with wan – amusement as she sought and covered herself with a dry portion of bedsheet.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Location: USS Valley Forge, Bridge, Deck #1.

Ensign Ellis Pennington stepped out onto the bridge of the USS Valley Forge and felt an entirely different kind of rush.

He was only four minutes late.

“Not bad, all things considered.” Ellis thought as he straightened his uniform and remembered to replace his commbadge from the pocket he had placed it into – when he had realized that his campaign of conquest might conceivably win him both Mr. and Mrs. Tobin, as a matched set (and then who knew what other possible pleasures might abound?)

He smiled contentedly as he made his way around the circumference of the busy bridge – space.

As a Risian, Ellis looked very similar to a “N – Type” Human, if it was not for the tiny nub of raised skin between his eyebrows, you might mistake Ellis for any other Terran.

He was neither remarkable looking (though he was pleasant to look at, he had nothing that you might stop twice to consider), he did not carry himself as some sort of irresistible Lothario and insinuate unwanted sexual advances (in fact you could say that he was somewhat dull), he did not dress impeccably or try to domineer socially.

But he was Risian.

Born on the infamous pleasure planet, Ellis Pennington could no less be unattractive to any member of any sex, species, inclination or deviation; than a Klingon could not seek an honorable death in battle. It was just genetic and endemic to all of his race – but that did not make his career trajectory through Starfleet any the easier.

Here and now. Case in point.

As Ellis made to relieve Petty Officer Reves from (his) Helm position and take over the fantastic honor of piloting the USS Valley Forge as her Chief Flight Officer, he was brought up short by the smooth intonation of the Executive Officer, as he inhabited the Command Chair.

“Mr. Pennington.” Commander Talland smiled, his tone unconcerned, “How good of you to join us. Before you relieve Petty Officer Reves and take the CONN, the Captain has requested the pleasure of your company in her Ready Room.”

Nonplussed, Ensign Pennington stood for a moment, his gaze went from the duty Helmsman to that of the XO, then he smiled easily.

“Of course, Commander. Santiago – would you mind keeping us straight and true for just a few more moments?”

The current Helmsman, Petty Santiago Officer Reves, smiled a small smile and responded.

“Aye Ensign, I still have the CONN.”

“And it was shaping up to be such a NICE morning….” Ellis sighed as he made his way to the door of Captain Hyland’s Ready Room, there to endure her likely judgement……again….

Through the dark embrace of the void, the graceful – slender greyhound curves of the Hull of the USS Valley Forge slipped silently through the imperceptible boundary that asserted the Federation side of the former Demilitarized zone.

She truly was a beautiful vessel; her sleek lines bespoke a return to a classicism that was both as nostalgic as it was practicable. The original Excelsior starships had been a mainstay of Starfleet operations for over a century – a reliable workhorse and bulwark that provided a dependable generalist platform for the United Federation of Planets to realize some of the more workaday and routine tasks that were essential to maintaining such a vast, star – spanning, sphere of political, economic, diplomatic and security operations.

Whilst the new century brought with it a different Weltanschauung, born of an ever-evolving fabric of Galactic change – bringing with it more modern ship – types capable of meeting the demands of a Federation that was (admittedly) far from the peak it had attained in its heyday; there was a pleasing symmetry that Starfleet had chosen to take those most capable Heavy – Cruisers of that golden – era and revitalize them – overhauling and transforming them into the Excelsior II – Class.

These were the thoughts that occupied the mind of Executive Officer, Commander Daniel Talland, as he presided over Bridge Operations from the Command – chair.

The ship and her crew were well into their fifth month of Patrol and Border Interdiction duties along the former DMZ – a duty that was mostly benign and dreary – so trying to avoid a slide into introspection became the most engaging challenge, most days.

Granted, there was the occasional fission of excitement (if you could call it that) when a vessel was encountered that required a scan for illegal contraband (even with the Orion Syndicate on the ropes – the demand for all things illegal never really waned) and rarer still if an Away Team was dispatched to perform a physical customs inspection. Pirate activity was sporadic, with most raiders opting to flee to warp once they realized that the Valley Forge was an Excelsior II and not such easy pickings as first imagined.

For those that had joined Starfleet dreaming of exploring brave new worlds and engaging in acts of high adventure – worthy of the pulpiest of holo – entertainments, the more mediocre reality of patrol duty – with each day rolling into the next, was sometimes somewhat of a let – down for the younger members of the crew.

“Such is the life of a Starfleet Officer.” Daniel thought ironically as he surveyed activity aboard the Bridge.

As a seasoned, but relatively young officer himself (the events of Frontier Day had ensured that the average age of a serving Starfleet Officer was now significantly lower that it had historically been) – he knew that they work that they were doing was essential (if unglamourous) and that the most pervading enemy the crew faced was boredom born of routine and had noted that morale aboard ship fluctuated accordingly to long periods of inactivity.

“Commander?” A voice inflected with tell – tale Slavic tones interrupted his reverie and Commander Talland turn the chair to see the youthful, flat features of Ensign Kirov – the ships Operations Officer – smiling politely at him.

“Yes Ensign?” Daniel smiled and took the PADD that the young Ukrainian Officer handed him.

“Commander, I have completed the duty allocations for the next watch rotations for Alpha, Beta and Gamma Shifts. I’m afraid that I have had to cannibalize some of the Delta Shift allocations to make up for several personnel on the other shifts that have put in for sick leave or leave for personal reasons.” The OPS chief apologized.

A fastidious young man, Yevgeny felt it as a personal affront that he could not balance the books to ensure that everything was optimal.

With that in mind, Talland replied.

“Belay that Yev, keep Delta as is – Captain Hyland will be commencing her shift handover with Alpha within the hour and I’d prefer the CO keep the same personnel – inform Chief Isono that I’d like her to bring a requisite number of ECH’s online to work alongside those shifts and backfill those personnel that are out of action. I’ll speak with Dr Langah and review the requests for leave on an individual basis and approve with the good Doctor’s advice.”

“Yes, Commander.” Yevgeny nodded and made to return to the main OPS console and direct his people accordingly.

Daniel nodded as Ensign Kirov departed – an earnest young officer. Absenteeism was a sure sign of decreasing morale, as crewmembers sought to alleviate their chagrin by avoiding their duties. Talland himself had had to intervene and sink a round of scuttlebutt amongst a knot of maintenance crewmembers just the previous day. Whilst keeping hands and minds busy was one sure way to keep people out of mischief – this strategy could only be maintained for so long without backfiring and creating more fatigue – fueling the onward decline in morale.

As Executive Officer, maintaining the efficient operation of the USS Valley Forge – on the CO’s behalf- and accordingly managing the efficiency of the crew – meant that maintaining morale was a key function of his role.

“Mr. Kirov?” Daniel called as Yevgeny departed.

“Yes, Commander?” the young Ukrainian looked slightly puzzled, but ready as ever to take on orders.

“Inform the crew that, at close of shift – each watch rotation will receive an additional 1hr Holosuite credit – for use at their own discretion – subject to the successful completion of their allocated tasking being completed by shifts end.” Daniel directed.

“Da, Commander!” Yevgeny grinned – access to the USS Valley Forge’s recreational facilities was always in high demand and the XO’s concession would enliven many an off – duty crewmembers’ day. “Making it so.”

Talland nodded and settled back into the Big – chair and scanned the reports.

Here within the scrolling data, lay the complex codex of activities that represented life aboard a Starship. The endless requests for EPS power allocations (every one stridently proclaiming their importance over the other), results from the endless levels of diagnostics that were required to confirm that the ship’s systems were operating & optimal, flight control flight plans for the ship and it’s small-craft requiring approval, metrics for Replicator usage versus Biomass reclamations, Warp Core efficiency data, Cargo inventories and consumables projections, crew – rosters and social activities calendar, requests for time in the few configurable science – labs aboard.

The list was, quite literally, endless…..but at least it kept Daniel, and the crew occupied.

So, it was a moment of considerable surprise (and relief), when the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander Deassomi Dai (who had been running some routine stellar cartography scans as the USS Valley Forge made way) reported.

“Commander, I’m picking up what appears to be a distress signal?”

The mood on the bridge transformed almost instantly, the body language of the members of the bridge – crew altering imperceptibly, as an actual challenge presented itself.

“Can you clarify?” Commander Talland turned to face Lieutenant Commander Dai, her black Betazoid eyes intent on the readouts from her station.

“Transmission is faint and intermittent – but it appears to be Starfleet in origin – automated distress signal on a 20 second repeat-cycle.” Deassomi inclined her bald – head as she attempted to decipher the information that the Excelsior II’s sensors were receiving.

Frowning, Daniel unconsciously gripped the handrests of the Command – chair.

“Location?”

There was a pause, then Lieutenant Commander Dai confirmed.

“Contact bearing 63,000 AU, Lambert Conformal Conic: center 86°W, 34°20’N, standard parallels 35°15’N, 36°25’N – just on the peripheral of our passive sensor range.”

“That’s only about a few light – years out, on our side of the DMZ border.” Daniel mused.

“Commander Dai, configure a Class 7 probe for immediate launch.” He turned to the USS Valley Forge’s Tactical Officer, Lieutenant (Jg) Danaé Doucet and ordered.

“TAC – deploy when ready – let’s get a better look at what we are dealing with here?”

Lieutenant Doucet nodded her blonde – haired head as her slim fingers re-tasked & programmed one of the Excelsior II’s forward torpedo – tubes to launch the probe and reconnoitre the sensor contact – to verify its source.

“Probe is away and tracking Commander.” The svelte young Quebecois Officer confirmed as the forward viewscreen displayed the launch and a holographic display of the probe’s course and telemetry sprang to life on the holo – display, situated in front of the Command – chair.

Daniel nodded.

“Helm, take us out of warp & come about and lay in an intercept course with the source of the distress – signal, maximum impulse.”

“Aye Sir.’ Answered Ensign Pennington, as the young Risan Helmsman deftly brough the great ship around and aligned her new course with that of the source of the signal.

“OPS, let the log show that at 07:43hrs, we have received and confirmed an automated distress – call and are diverting to investigate and give aid – in accordance with Galactic Customary Law.”

“Aye Sir.’ Yevgeny confirmed, already multitasking efficiently as he carried out the Executive Officer’s orders.

Daniel keyed the comm – channel to alert the CO.

“Bridge to Captain Hyland.”

“Hyland here, go ahead Number One.” Came the smooth reply of Samantha Hyland.

“Captain, we’ve received what appears to be a Starfleet distress signal. Automated but faint, transmitting from a nearby location on our side of the DMZ. I have launched a probe and diverted the vessel to rendezvous.” Daniel reported efficiently.

A pause, then “Very good Number One, I’m on my way to the bridge – keep me informed.”

“Aye aye, Captain, Bridge out.” Talland closed the channel and returned his attention to the holo display.

“Probe’s range to target 37,000 AU and closing. Time to contact one minute,12 seconds. Telemetry is solid.” demurred Lieutenant Commander Dai in her customary calm tones…

“Vessel is on intercept course Commander, range to target 53,000 AU and closing, ETA in three minutes and counting.” Ellis Pennington’s young voice had a note of slight excitement that he was doing well to contain.

“Ops – take the ship to Yellow Alert. TAC, raise shields” Commander Talland commanded.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Doucet raised one elegantly-pencilled eyebrow in question – there was no apparent sensor contact (other than the presumed vessel in distress) for parsecs, as far as she could see.

“Let’s err on the side of caution, Lieutenant.” The XO clarified levelly, “Let’s assume that our ship in distress is exactly what it purports to be and regret our surfeit of precaution after the fact – if it is not needed.”

“As the Commander commands, raising shields.” It was evident that Danaé did not agree with the tactical assessment, but she had the good grace and professionalism not to question the order.

“Aye Commander, sounding Yellow Alert.” Yevgeny confirmed as the lighting state aboard the bridge altered, and the Yellow Alert was sounded through the USS Valley Forge.

“All hands, this is Commander Talland. I am ordering the ship to Yellow Alert. All hands to their duty stations. We are diverting to respond to a distress signal, prepare to respond and assist SAR recovery operations. Bridge out.”

It was at this point that the Turbolift doors hissed back, and Captain Samantha Hyland strode purposefully out onto the bridge, in the process of finishing buttoning up her uniform tunic. As she approached Daniel stood to vacate the Command – chair to relinquish active command of the vessel to the CO.

Sam nodded as she took the seat and took in the small Holodisplay and asked of her XO.

“Talk to me. What are we looking at Commander?”

“Science sensors confirmed a contact at 07:43hrs Captain, appears to be running an automated distress beacon. I’ve ordered the ship to Yellow Alert. We’re about two minutes out, probe should be returning telemetry in less than 1 minute.”

“Very good Commander, I have the CONN.” Samantha nodded, her lips pursed thoughtfully as she took in the situation. Commander Talland went to stand behind one of the configurable duty stations that ringed the bridge and activated his own holo – display to assume support duties now that the Captain has assumed command.

“Science. Can you please route the comms – feed from the distress signal to my console?” Sam asked Deassomi.

“Transferring data now” Dai confirmed.

Samantha listened to the audio feed (interference now cleaned up by Lieutenant Commander Dai) and scrutinized the packet – data. Previously in her career, Sam had served as a Chief Communications Officer aboard the USS Sacramento and had an excellent ear for signal – identification.

“It’s an older code – algorithm, but it’s certainly a Starfleet signal all right,” Samantha commented as she sought to identify the origin of the signal, “It’s probable that it’s genuine, but then again, the True Way have been known to suborn older comms – traffic and use it to bait and switch their ambushes against the New Marquis.”

“That’s why I thought Yellow Alert was prudent, Captain.” Commander Talland nodded as he worked.

“Good Call, Number One. I would have made the same myself.” Captain Hyland agreed as she swiveled her command chair to regard the Chief Science Officer.

“Commander Dai, have we got anything tangible from the probe yet?” Samantha enquired.

“Aye Captain, starting to collate telemetry data now, I……no…wait one?” Deassomi’s voice wavered, uncharacteristically, and her smooth forehead rumpled into a frown.

“Science, report?” Samantha’s frown began to mirror that of her Science Officer.

“Probe reports contact with the source of the distress signal has been lost, Captain.” Lieutenant Commander Dai’s voice was redolent with confusion.

“Lost?” Samantha wondered aloud. “TAC – can you confirm, has the target been destroyed? Did she come apart?”

Lieutenant Doucet scrutinized the ships targeting sensors which, enabled by the feed of the approaching Class – 7 probe, had been able to provide a more nuanced picture of the target of the signal.

“Negative Captain – I’m reading no emissions that would be consistent with either a warp-core breach or weapons fire. There is some residual energy – readings, but the pattern – buffer is having some trouble cleaning that up. It’s a real potage.” Danaé reported in her elegant French – inflected tones.

“Noted TAC. Keep us at Yellow Alert but bring the weapons – systems online – just in case we are flying into a trap.” Sam commanded, her mind racing at the possibilities that this sudden disappearance of their target.

“Mr. Pennington, keep us on course for the last known location of the contact – but adopt a wider racetrack orbit around that position – 120 AU minimum.” Sam ordered and felt the deck tilt slightly as Ellis adjusted the course of the vessel, so as not to intersect the point where the distress signal had ceased.

“Science – what can we make of that interference?” Samantha demanded, uneasy that such a routine activity such as responding to a ship in distress might now be a subterfuge for some other action.

“Residual neutrinos indicative of a recently collapsed Gravimetric Field containment.” The USS Valley Forge’s chief scientists relayed as she surveyed the data from the probe.

“Consistent with a warp field activation.” Sam commented.

“Well, yes…. and no Captain.” There was a note on intrigue in Deassomi’s, that experience has taught Samantha – meant that the Betazoid had encountered some scientific variable that had piqued her interest.

“Could you be less specific, Commander?” Sam commented dryly.

Deassomi look up from her display, her black eyes blinking uncomprehendingly for a moment, then she realized the joke, but her keen focus left her unmoved.

“It certainly was not a warp – core implosion Captain, but there is also certain telemetry here that confound the assumption of a controlled warp – field initiation – at least within the standardly accepted norms.” The scientist sounded genuinely perplexed and intrigued now.

“Meaning?” Samantha was starting to lose patience with the idiosyncrasies of CSO’s fascination – she needed straight answers to assess the level of threat that her command may be exposed to, not a science lecture – but she held her composure for the time being.

“There is considerable background – levels of Thoron Radiation and (more interestingly) a notable downward residual decay of a negative – ionized Tachyon shell around the point of origin. Speaking professionally, that is unlike any Warp – field initiation I have ever seen and very unorthodox Captain.” Lieutenant Commander Dai explained patiently.

Samantha frowned more deeply, face with a real conundrum.

“Is it possible that the sensor data was corrupted in any way? Showing a false negative?” Samantha pondered, looking for rational explanations to the sudden disappearance of whatever had been sending the Distress Signal.

“Negative Captain.” Deassomi shook her bald – pate in dismissal. “I had a level – three diagnostic running in the background on the probe’s systems, as a back – up should the probe be lost. The data is solid.”

Samantha turned her chair to regard her Executive Officer.

“Number One? Any theories?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

Daniel Talland looked deep in contemplation, as his fine features were framed in the faint blue – light of the shimmering holo – display.

“Well, we certainly have a mystery, Captain, that much is certain.” Daniel considered through pursued lips and absently stroked his neatly – clipped beard. “We have a ship, apparently in distress; that hasn’t been destroyed. Hasn’t warped away and is nowhere to be seen.”

“I would have said this was a prelude to an ambush, but there is no decoy device here transmitting a false – distress signal. There’s not another vessel within lightyears of our own and nowhere for an opposing force to conceal themselves in normal – space and no indications of an aggressor dropping out of warp. Even if there was, this is a nonsensical location for an ambush – being so far from either a Federation outpost or any Cardassian facility.”

Command Talland shrugged, at a momentarily loss.

Captain Samantha Hyland was silent for a long time, unable to requite the data she was receiving to any logical sequence of events. Eventually she sighed and ordered.

“Mr. Kirov. Stand us down from Yellow Alert. TAC – Stand down weapons systems. Mr. Pennington, resume course to our original heading and take us back to warp. CSO prepare to recall the probe and run a full diagnostic on all data. For the time being, we’ll just have to…” The CO began to issue orders to restore the USS Valley Forge to her assigned patrol route, when she was suddenly interrupted by Deassomi’s enlivened voice.

“Target re-acquired Captain!”

“Range and bearing.” Samantha urged, a worrying feeling growing in her gut.

“Similar spatial plane & heading but……” Lieutenant Commander Dai’s voice petered away.

“Science report!” Samantha snapped tersely.

“Definitely the same target, transmitting an identical Distress – signal, but its range Captain – Sensors confirm that the Target is 372,340,348 AU away – she’s jumped over 55,701,323,236,497,004 Kilometers in just under 6 seconds!” Deassomi’s face was incredulous and pale at the implicit implications.

“That’s impossible!” Samantha breathed.

“No Captain, only highly improbable.” Chimed in Lieutenant Savak, the USS Valley Forge’s Half – Vulcan/Half – Romulan Security Chief, who had remained silent until now – as the situation had not yet demanded her input. Clearly that state of affairs was changing rapidly.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I sit corrected.” Samantha demurred dryly and addressed her XO.

Savak included her head severally but remained otherwise silent.

“Number One, alert Taskforce 72 Command of the unfolding situation and transmit a data – packet with all log and telemetry data we have gathered to date. Advise Command to alert all vessels in the vicinity of this volume of a danger to navigation and potential threat to the integrity of security along the former Demilitarized Zone. Advise Starbase 72 that we are diverting from our assigned patrol – route to further investigate and clarify.”

“Yes Captain.” Daniel Talland was already busying himself at his station and Sam came to appreciate the unflappable nature of her Executive officer and the rapport they had managed to form over the last few months, as they got to know each other’s command – styles.

Dan Talland was a good man to have at your back in a crisis.

“Helm, come about to the new heading and plot a course to intercept. Take us to maximum warp when ready.”

“Aye Skipper!” Ellis Pennington’s practiced hands flowed across the helm controls and the great mass of the Excelsior – II Heavy Cruiser responded to his deft touch once more.

“OPS – Take the ship to Red Alert. All hands to Action Stations. Prepare for Warp.”

“Aye Captain.” Yevgeny went about the task of bringing the entire ship and crew to its most advanced state of readiness as the emergency lighting plunged the bridge into a tense crimson – fugue and the Red Alert sounded urgently throughout the length of the ship.

“TAC – stand up all offensive and defensive systems. I don’t know what we are dealing with here, but if it comes to showing our hand – I want a solid – run of Aces.” Sam asserted with all seriousness of intent.

“Aye Captain. Making ready.” Lieutenant Doucet nodded, martialing up the considerable martial capabilities of the ship.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” Captain Hyland announced levelly to her Bridge – crew. “We appear to have a “Foo – Fighter” on our hands (referring to the ancient Mid – 20^th Century term for an unidentified contact), we’re going to close, engage with our target, verify and respond.”

Sam turned to the helmsman and pointed confidently towards the starfield streaming past the USS Valley Forge on the viewscreen.

“Mr. Pennington – Light her up!”

For the fifth time now, The Phantom (as the ship’s crew had euphemistically dubbed their quarry) had eluded the best efforts of the USS Valley Forge to intercept and discover more about the mysterious source of the automated distress signal.

Even with other Task Force assets requisitioned to draw the dragnet close around the fleeting contact, The Phantom still managed to remain just out of reach – it’s course and telemetry confounding all attempts to extrapolate it’s heading and intent.

“We came closer this time Sam.” Captain Kay Fallon, CO of the Niagara – class Fast Cruiser – USS Raleigh, apologized with some chagrin. “We managed to warp to within 1 parsec of the target, before it warped out again. Same as before.”

Captain Samantha Hyland nodded in agreement – their own pursuit of The Phantom had yielded similar results – every time the Excelsior II Heavy Cruiser had managed to close distance with the rogue contact – the mysterious vessel had gone to warp – travelling an inconceivable distance that far outranged the performance of even the swiftest of Starfleet vessels available in the Sector.

“We’ve had much the same run of luck, but thanks’ for trying Kay.” Sam nodded to her Senior Officer’s assembled around the Briefing Room table. “But whilst we’ve been led a merry dance by our errant friend, we have managed to collate a number of interesting facts and data about its nature. That’s why I have called this meeting to share and coordinate what we do know – in an effort to hypothesize what we still don’t know and gain the edge to intercept this thing.”

Captain Fallon nodded from the viewscreen as Samantha turned to the USS Valley Forge’s Chief Science Officer and prompted, “Lieutenant Commander Dai, if you will?”

All attention turned to the irascible Betazoid scientist, who cleared her throat and brought up a hologram of the recent course that The Phantom had woven – as its unpredictable progress had taunted and ensnared the two Starfleet Vessels that pursued it.

“As we know, the target vessel (Lt CDR Dai steadfastly refused to give in to the fantasist – designation consigned to the source of the distress signal – as a scientist has no patience for such indulgences – but “The Phantom” had enlivened an already – bored young crew with its implicit sense of mystery and intrigue) was encountered 31 hours ago and during subsequent pursuit has appeared to warp away a total of 5 times to date – each time when the intercepting vessel has closed to less than 1 parsec / 206264.8062471 astronomical units.”

As Deassomi recapped the sequence of events of the last few hours, correspondingly the integers of the pursuit and attendant data was highlighted on the animation of the holodisplay.

“The uniformity of that distance suggests a pattern correlation – with each encounter the same.

“Does that mean that someone could still be alive aboard the target vessel?” Commander Talland enquired thoughtfully – as eager as anyone assembled to find some pattern of logic or reason to better apply to the situation.

“Possible Commander, “ Deassomi considered briefly, but then dismissed the notation with a small, irritated wave of her hand. “I consider it more likely to the result of an automated response, possibly a subroutine operating either within or without of a specified parameter.”

“What leads you towards this hypothesis Lieutenant Commander?” Captain Fallon asked intently from the viewscreen as she sat forward in the Command – chair of the distant USS Raleigh.

Deassomi Dai’s black eyes glinted in the muted lighting of the Briefing – room as she cycled a control on the holo, with a deft flick of her fingers. A set of Spatial Telemetry metrics were highlighted over each point where either vessel had come close to intercepting and learning more about The Phantom. With a swirl of her hand, Deassomi clutched the holographic data and pulled it into a columned table that hung shimmering in the air – it’s twin hovering in front of Captain Fallon aboard her own vessel.

The USS Valley Forge’s CSO nodded to the first set of figures that flared with light.

“When the Valley Forge first encountered the Target Vessel at 07:43hrs, yesterday, we launched a Class – 7 probe toward the target to verify. When the probe reached 1 Parsec of the Tango – it apparently went to warp – employing some form of propulsion that yielded a jump of 372,340,348 AU in under 6 seconds”.

Lieutenant Commander Dai then highlighted the remaining sequence of numbers in the table. As each metric flashed with a highlighted – glow, she continued.

“With each subsequent encounter – the distance warped has increased, whilst the variable of 1 parsec on approach and initiation has remained stable. That quantum is consistent with a statistical algorithm that can learn from data and generalize to unseen data and thus perform tasks without explicit instructions. This type of heuristic reaction is typical of a neural network engaged in deep – learning.”

“So, are we to assume that whoever may or may not have activated the Automated distress signal is incapacitated and not in physical control of the vessel?” commented Captain Fallon, whose experience in Search & Rescue operations and her swift – ship, had led to Sam requesting the assistance of the USS Raleigh – from Starbase 72.

“I think it is the most likely scenario – based upon what we know at this time, Captain, yes.” Deassomi agreed and dismissed the holo – display and the lighting of the USS Valley Forge’s Briefing room slowly rose to a more normal state.

“If the vessel is running on autopilot without oversight, then it would certainly qualify as a danger to navigation, if left unchecked.” Ensign Ellis Pennington rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The young Helmsman had initially entered into the pursuit of The Phantom with boyish enthusiasm, but as the chase had elongated from minutes to hours then to days – the impetuous young Risan had begun to approach the problem with a more introspective approach.

“Quite so, but we must still approach the situation with the assumption that some member of the crew must have activated the automated distress signal before they were likely incapacitated and treat this as a rescue of survivors and not the recovery of victims.” Interjected the smooth tones of the avuncular Dr Langah from his seat around the table. “Until it proves otherwise.”

Such was the calming influence of the USS Valley Forge’s Chief Medical Officer, that when Jahanshir spoke – it always seemed to have a salving effect on those assembled.

“Quite so Doctor. “Samantha smiled and allowed a nod the effortlessly smoldering (and confoundingly married) Pakistani physician. “We should not lose focus that this is ostensibly a rescue mission, despite the confounding scientific aspects of the situation.”

Dr Langah smiled and nodded to the CO who turned to address the Senior Officers.

“The USS Raleigh has managed to get closer to The Phant…. Target Vessel that any of us and Captain Fallon has managed to secure some visual data on the target that we have managed to collate with our own data. I have asked our Chief Engineer to work with their team to present an overview of what little we do know at this time. Lieutenant Isono – Chief the floor is yours.” Samantha prompted.

The slim Nipponese Chief Engineer, Lieutenant (Sg) Tani Isono brushed an errant lock of blonde hair from her brow and from her seat – she activated the holo – display once again.

“Domo arigatou, Captain. “Tani nodded to her own CO and then to Captain Fallon on the viewer.

Over the table there rezzed a pale shimmering holo – image of a small vessel, possibly comparative to the size and displacement of a corvette – that shared the unmistakable design lineage of a Starfleet vessel.

“This is a composite image that has been constructed with the extrapolation of the data gathered by our initial probe and subsequent data attained by the USS Raleigh”.

Lieutenant Isono used her own hand to zoom in on the schematic that glowed a soft blue.

“As such it is light on detail and should be assumed for reference purposes only. Until we can get a clear visual on The Phantom (this elicited a scowl from the CSO) – this what we can tell about her”.

“As you can see, there is a standard saucer section that seems to represent the primary hull. I would say probably 30 meters in diameter. This dorsal tower section near the stern seems the most likely location to mount a navigational sensor. What does seem incongruous is that there doesn’t appear to be any vectored thrust nozzles to suggest the vessel has impulse drive capability – which is extremely odd. As is the configuration of the Warp Nacelles situated at the root of that tower – they seem to be of a decidedly unorthodox design.”

“Is it possible that the Target vehicle is an experimental vessel of some type, Chief?” Lieutenant Savak, the Valley Forge’s Chief Security Officer enquired – following the logical supposition to it’s likely conclusion.

Tani nodded and changed brought up a grainy image of the target – vessel, taken by the USS Raliegh’s long range imaging array. Whilst the quality was poor, it was sufficient to discern some faint numbers on the image. Tani swept her fingers to drag the 2D image and interpose it onto the wireframe 3D Holo-image – merging the two and effectively giving The Phantom a grainy skin.

“Hai. That was our initial supposition, Lieutenant.” The confident Japanese Engineer agreed and pointed to the fragment of numbers now adorning the fore – section on the Saucer of the mysterious craft. “As you can see – there is a fragment of what appears to be a Registry number here?”

The numbers “381” were highlighted and were angled up from the ghostly hull of The Phantom, as if they had been cut – out of the hull. The Chief Engineer continued.

“Using the Ship’s Computer, we ran a search through the Bravo Fleet Registry, to see if we could identify any “NX – Class” vessels that have been reported missing – from recent times and going back as far as records permitted, in an attempt to identify the target.”

Tani smiled a small, apologetic smile of defeat and spread her hands wide.

“The computer did not identify any NX – class ship with the number “318” in its registry, so we spread the net and widened our search to any NX – class vessel reported as missing – in – action across all the Named & Numbered fleets in Starfleet…. again, our search turned up no match.”

The sense of resignation seemed to permeate the mood amongst the assembled senior officers.

The appearance of The Phantom and the subsequent pursuit had shaken the entire crew out of the malaise brought about by the tedium of their patrol – duties. The morale aboard ship, previous in a downward spiral, had seen to have reversed – the hubbub of conversation in off – duty areas all centered around the identity of their mysterious quarry – a pervading sense of excitement and potential for adventure unifying the crew.

“Another dead end.” Ensign Kirov commented bitterly, the young Ukrainian Ops Chief confounded by The Phantom’s persistence in eluding a neat and orderly quantification.

Lieutenant Isono smiled craftily and lifted a slim finger to arrest Yevgeny’s slide into remorseful despair.

“But then I got to thinking – why the lack of an obvious Impulse drive, what if it wasn’t a registered NX – Vessel, what if it was just a “Test Article”, instead?”

“Excuse-moi de t’embêter.” The Chief Tactical Officer, Danaé Doucet, interjected – obviously confused. “But what is cet article…this “Test Article” of which you speak?”

The Chief Engineer gave a small smile and nodded.

“We are all familiar with the purpose of a NX – Class vessel, which is to namely field – test an emergent technology and evaluate the data gathered to inform and improve that technology for final implementation into a Named and approved class.”

All around the table and aboard the USS Raliegh nodded their assent.

“良い (Yoi)” Tani smiled and expounded, “By the time a technology has reached the stage where it is employed in an NX – Class experimental spaceframe – it was gone through an extensive and rigorous regimen of testing and evaluation – first in virtual modelling in an AI – test environment, subsequent laboratory work to test the engineering tolerances and assumptions around material science and, in some cases, it is necessary to conduct a limited physical trial of the technologies projected performance in a scaled – down version – so that attendant hazard and risks can be identified and mitigated before they are entrusted to a full sized NX – class vessel.”

“A Test – Article!” Realization formed on Danaé’s fine Québecois features.

“Hai!” The Chief Engineer positively beamed. “Which do not hold a NX – class designation in the Starfleet Registry nor are christened with a Ship – name, rather Test – Articles are assigned a “Hull Number.” When we indexed Hull Number “3185” – we found our Phantom!”

The sense of relief around the room was palpable.

“Well Chief – don’t leave us in suspense.” The XO leaned back in his seat.

“Well records are patchy, but it seems like “Hull 3185” was indeed a Test Article constructed by the Antares Fleet yards way back in 2374 and was reported lost during a trial in 2376 – with no trace of her or the crew assigned to conduct the trials ever found…. until now it would seem.”

“But that was over 25 years ago!” Dr Langah exclaimed in dismay, realizing that the chances of conducting a rescue on a live crew was diminishingly small, given the interval of time that had transpired between Hull 3185’s disappearance and now apparent reappearance.

“Well, it obviously wasn’t destroyed.” Captain Fallon interjected, her face a mask of puzzlement, aboard the USS Raleigh.”

“If it disappeared in the process of conducting a field – trial, then it’s a reasonable supposition that something went wrong.” Lieutenant Commander Dai frowned, subconsciously rubbing the stubble on her crown – as she did when in deep thought. “Do we know what technology she was developed as a test – bed for, Chief?”

“Unfortunately, we hit the wall when we tried to look into that.” Chief Isono looked vexed at the memory. “Starfleet has designed the loss of Hull 3185 and her crew as sensitive material and restricted access to the entire file as TOP SECRET: Confidential. Captain Hyland tried to enlist the assistance of the TFCO, Captain Williams – and even he could not sequester the information we required.”

“Goddamned bureaucrats!” Commander Talland swore under his breath. “Don’t they know that, at best, we appear to be dealing with a haywire science experiment of theirs, careening around the Sector with it’s (likely) iddy – biddy cargo of skeletons asleep at the wheel at beyond – relativistic speeds off the scale. And they can’t release the bloody information !!!” Daniel was incandescent with ire.

Captain Hyland reached over and put a reassuring hand over that of her outraged Executive Officer. Talland looked momentarily startled as the CO of the Valley Forge smiled a guarded smile.

“Heave to, Number 1.” Sam nodded to all assembled.

Samantha stood up and stretched her back and wandered the short distance to the rear viewport and took a moment to massage some life into her posterior, as she briefly enjoyed the vista of the starfield at warp – streaming past the wasp – like Nacelles that propelled them.

She turned to address her officers and fellow Starship Captain.

“If I have learned one thing about Starfleet in my time.” Sam smiled, “Is that when they investigate something they are untidy when they pack up their toys and subsequently, normally leave something lying around that is useful in forcing open the door.”

She tapped her commbadge and called, “Bridge/Ops…This is the Captain. Is my message ready?”

“Subspace Link Received and decrypted Captain.” The duty – Ops officer confirmed.

“Thank you, Ops, – patch it through to the Briefing Room and to the USS Raleigh please.”

“Aye Captain. Ops Out.”

Samantha could see that everyone was plainly confused, but she felt a small sense of satisfaction from her sense of showmanship.

“When the Chief and I were relaying what data was publicly available from the Hull 3185 – Incident, I noted that – indeed – the Test – Article lacked a working Impulse drive. It was only intended to test whatever technology was aboard in a linear flight – path; to then be retrieved and have its performance data evaluated in debrief. That means that it needed a “Tug” to get it into position and to retrieve it at the finish – line once the test was concluded.”

Samantha keyed the holo – display once again and the glimmering, spectral image of a venerable California – class Utility Cruiser floated above the conference table.

“My old Ship, the USS Sacramento.” The CO smiled fondly, then added.

“Of course, this was way before my time, thank you very much, but there is still a member of her current crew that was serving aboard the ‘Sac’ – all that time ago.

The viewscreen suddenly shifted Captain Fallon and her feed from the USS Raleigh to a smaller corner view and the main image shifted to reveal a dour – looking, bald – headed Vulcan Officer of advanced years.

“Greetings Captain Hyland.” Lieutenant Sorvak intoned with all the excitement of a mausoleum and nodded his bald head. “My congratulations on your advancement.”

Sam seated herself and swiveled her chair so that she was facing her former crewmate and OPS officer aboard the USS Sacramento.

Sorvak has the distinction of only having ever served aboard one vessel for his entire career and had studiously avoided any opportunity for advancement that would see him promoted away from his post aboard the doughty old Utility – Cruiser.

Samantha Hyland tried to push aside the bitter memory that, the last time she had seen Sorvak, both of them had been riding on the back of the Crystal Entity (with the living remains of her father entombed within & apparently part of its consciousness), choking on the back of a living God as it carried them slowly into space – without the luxury of EVA suits.

“In comparison, chasing a ghost – ship around half – the quadrant seems like a walk in the park!” Sam thought ruefully as she smiled and responded.

“Sorvak – good to see you. My compliments to Commander Allen and thank you for taking the time to assist us.”

Sorvak looked down his long nose and commented without rancour.

“Like yourself, Commander Allen left the USS Sacramento and is now Captain of another vessel. Lieutenant Commander Vodrova was promoted and now is the Commanding Officer.” The Vulcan shrugged – after all – he had seen a cavalcade of Officers rotate through the “Sac” during his long tenure aboard.

“Well, good for Aleksandra.” Sam commented then addressed the elephant in the room. “But this is far from a social call Lieutenant, I take it that you have had time to review the data – packet we sent you? We are all hoping that you can shed a little more light around the nature of the quarry we seek, and time is running short.”

Lieutenant Sorvak looked unconcerned and nodded.

“Indeed Captain Hyland,” Sorvak continued, as implacable as the sea. “If the data is contingent to the situation, you now find yourself in, it would indeed seem that you have discovered the fate of the “USS Artemis.”

“USS Artemis?” It was Sam’s turn to look confused. “You mean the Test – Article, Hull – 3185?”

“Quite so Captain.” The Vulcan nodded from his place aboard the USS Sacramento – somewhere in the faraway Alpha Quadrant. “That was the familiar nomenclature assigned to Hull – 3185. Humans tend to the perplexing tendency towards personifying inanimate objects with undue affection and affectation – giving them “Pet – names.” Her Commander – Lieutenant Commander Simion Micheals – was no different from any other human in that respect.”

“It just…’stuck’, as you humans like to say.” Sorvak remarked acidly.

Unbidden, Yevgeny Kirov was already delving into the Starfleet personnel records archive and presently brought up a file image from the service jacket of Simion Micheals.

“Commander Micheals was a brilliant, if impulsive, member of the Starfleet / ASDB Test – Pilot corps assigned to flight – line evaluation operations at the Antares Fleet Yards. A more than capable pilot and a good officer – but prone to risk taking behavior.” The venerable Vulcan – veteran officer commented without judgement.

“What was the mission of the…. USS Artemis?” Sam persisted, wanting to get to the heart of the matter.

“Hull – 3185 was developed as a test – bed to prove the fundamental technologies behind the theories of Dr Gallian Makon – progenitor of “Stutter – Warp” technology.” Sorvak explained.

“Stutter – warp?”  Chief Isono interrupted. “I’m not familiar with that technology?”

Sorvak turned to regard the impetuous Nipponese Engineer with a sardonic, raised eyebrow.

“Nor should you be Lieutenant.” The Vulcan explained. “The technology was both revolutionary and highly unstable in its intrinsic nature – the return of the USS Voyager from the Delta Quadrant and then advent of Transwarp technology and its implicit applications would have served to render Dr Makon’s Stutter – Warp innovations obsolete: as it was – the loss of the USS Artemis during her final trial certainly underscored the death – nell for the entire project and it was shut down.”

“Lieutenant Sorvak.” Lieutenant Commander Dai politely enquired, “Can you tell us a little more about the science and intent behind the Stutter – Warp project?”

“Of course. “ Sorvak nodded stentorily and the holo – display changed once more to display an informational that the Vulcan had appended to his Subspace communication.

“In the early 2370’s, with the Federation sustaining considerable losses in the opening years of the Dominion War and Starfleet hard pressed to deploy its remaining fleet – assets, whilst rushing to complete and launch a number of replacement and successor classes to frontline operations – the challenges of covering such vast distances with a diminishing pool of vessels became a very real concern.” Sorvak spoke as archive images of the Dominion War were displayed, then replaced with a file picture of a middle-aged woman of Mid – European descent.

“Considerable interest was centered around the work of noted Warp – Theorist, Dr Gallian Makon. Dr Makon supposed a novel new way to work with existing Warp – propulsion systems, cotemporary to the era, creating a “Stutter – Warp” effect to propel ships up to their maximum warp potential – but in such a way to both maximize the energy co – efficiency output between the Warp Core and Warp – Coil assemblies.

The file picture of Dr Gallian Makon was replaced with an icon representing the USS Artemis.

“Contemporary vessels create a stable warp – field by producing highly – energetic electro-plasma, channeled through the plasma conduits of EPS system and funnel that through plasma injectors into a series of warp – field coils in the nacelles – creating a stable warp – field that the vessel then rides within.”

This was Warp – Core theory 101, so basic that everyone present – was present because they had passed this basic engineering requirement at Starfleet Academy, so came as news to no – one.

What Sorvak related next, went decidedly beyond their schooling.

“Dr Makon postulated that, if the energization of the electro-plasma was continually fluctuated from positive to negative whilst being introduced to the plasma injectors – the resultant warp field created by the field – coils would produce a momentarial “bubble” of Warp – Field energy that would exist only briefly before collapsing.”

“Dr Makon went on to asset that, IF a ship could be instantaneously propelled from one side of that bubble to the other and that collapsing bubble could be linked to the next bubble forming in a linear – chain; then that vessel could ride the “Stutter – Warp” effect in a theoretically endless train – slamming from one bubble to the next as it rides the continual birth and decay of each warp – field.”

Everyone in the room was stunned and were only broken from that state by Captain Fallon.

“That’s audacious.” Kay Fallon breathed, “It sounds wildly theoretical and immensely dangerous – did Dr Makon succeed in her goals?”

From his portion of the viewscreen, Sorvak shrugged noncommittally, as the tiny hologram icon of the USS Artemis rode from “Warp – bubble” to “Warp – bubble.”

“Given that Dr Makon was present aboard Hull – 3815 when it disappeared with all hands over 25 years ago, it is impossible to conjecture whether she considered her brainchild successful. “ Sorvak shrugged.

“Certainly, the Stutter – Warp effect was not designed to improve the overall top – warp speed of a vessel, rather to produce an energistic effect that would make the output of the Warp – Core more efficient and ensure that the vessel could operate at an optimum maximum speed for longer duration. Before the loss of the test – article, the telemetry and data being returned from the trials certainly showed promise.”

“But she was lost with all hands.” Samantha interjected soundly.

“Quite so Captain Hyland.” Sorvak nodded somberly, ‘Whilst I was not party to the official findings of the Incident Investigation report prepared by Starfleet, in the wake of the USS Artemis’ disappearance – anecdotal evidence arrived at during the trials did point to potential instabilities in the reverse ionization of the Warp – Plasma through the Plasma Injectors. There were several near – misses as the Injectors gave out under load and Dr Makon was forced to encode an algorithm to regulate the flow.”

“The flow dynamics alone would be extremely challenging to calculate.” Chief Isono nodded, “You’d need at least a Level – 3 semi – sentient AI – Matrix to make the calculations in real – time.”

“Level – 5, to be precise. “ Sorvak corrected Tani.

 “Others conjectured that Lieutenant Commander Micheals, with his reputation for pushing the equipment to the edge, may have unintentionally instigated a catastrophic system – failure that resulted in the loss of the Test – Article. As it was, no wreckage was ever found – now it appears, we finally know why.”

Samantha Allen steepled her hands, lost in contemplation. She wasn’t sure if her odds had improved or diminished, now that they knew more about the nature of their quarry.

“Lieutenant Sorvak, Ensign Pennington – Helm.” Ellis introduced himself.” One thing’s been bothering me, and I was wondering if you could set my mind at ease.”

“I will seek to elucidate if I can, please continue Ensign.”

Ellis adjusted the Holo and brought back the original flightpath of the USS Artemis, that the CSO had started the briefing with.

“Thank you.” Ellis nodded to the display. “Assuming that everyone aboard The Phantom is either long dead or incapacitated and assuming that the ship under some type of autonomous control – possibly by the ship’s computer – then how is it managing to make these course corrections – if it doesn’t have an Impulse Drive? Maneuvering thrusters would be next to useless at these speeds? It doesn’t make sense?”

Before Sorvak could respond the CSO suddenly blurted out “GRAVITY!!!”

All eyes turned to regard Lieutenant Commander Deassomi Dai as she began to grab the hologram and manipulated it as she spoke animatedly.

“I’m such a fool! Gravity is the answer!” The scientist enthused as the holo swam and she feverishly worked calculations.

Sorvak looked on impassively as the Executive Officer demanded mildly.

“For clarities sake, Deassomi, could you let the rest of us non – genius’ in on the action?”

The CSO expanded the original course of the fleeing Test – Article and overlayed a more detailed mapping of the general volume of space surrounding it.

“Ellis is right, in a manner of speaking! “ Deassomi beamed, distracted by her feverish calculus. “The Phantom has been using the relative interactions with the gravity – wells of nearby planetary masses and gas giant’s it was encountered along its course – to incrementally change its heading. It’s so slight and subtle, you’d easily miss it – but when you map it over a larger vector it becomes more apparent. It’s like using your nacelles- output to steer if you have lost helm control!!”

“But if the ship is on autopilot, what is it trying to avoid and why?” Samantha was dumbfounded.

As Deassomi Dai fed more parameters into the holodisplay, a new vector – emblazoned in red – appeared – charting the likely course of the fleeing USS Artemis; if it continued to make similar, gradual course adjustments.

On the Holo – map – the large, unmistakable mass of a Stellar Nebula loomed – straddling the line of the former DMZ between Federation and Cardassian space.

“The Antabari – Nebula.” Deassomi nodded with finality. “Whoever or whatever is steering that ship – it certainly doesn’t seem to want to go there.”

Cold realization swept through the room.

“We know where they are going, even if they don’t want to go and we now know what course they are taking!” Sam confirmed.

“We can get ahead of them and intercept!” Captain Fallon agreed, with vehemence.

“Yes, we CAN! “Sam smiled. “Sorvak thank you for your time – as always your assistance has been invaluable!”

From the screen Sorvak inclined his cadaverous head and murmured “Good luck in your hunt, Captain. Live long and prosper.” Then he killed the link and was gone.

Captain Samantha Hyland rose to her feet, clear purpose shining in her Icelandic – blue eyes and she nodded, commanding stridently.

“Action stations people, we have a Ghost to catch!”

~ “One of the worst aspects of command, “reflected Captain Samantha Hyland as she watched the mission timer countdown on the main viewscreen, ~ “Is the bloody waiting!” ~

The sense of tension on the bridge of the USS Valley Forge was palpable (and Sam had no doubt that the situation was being mirrored at the same time, amongst Captain Fallon’s own bridge – crew aboard the USS Raleigh, as the Niagara – class Fast Cruiser kept station off the Starboard bow), armed with the foreknowledge of where the mysterious ‘ghost ship’ – the elusive “USS Artemis” – was going to warp to – both Starfleet vessels had managed to arrive before their quarry, to interject themselves on its projected flight path and (hopefully) interdict the Test – bed vessel that had been lost these last twenty five years.

Despite her own unease, Sam was keenly aware that her responsibility was to project composure and provide a reassuring example of confidence to her crew, so she pushed her concerns aside and spoke out to Lieutenant Doucet.

“TAC – time to contact?”

Samantha knew the answer to this rhetorical question of course, had the chronometer not been calibrated by the Chief Science Officer Deassomi Dai – to estimate & countdown to the phantom – vessels’ likely ETA to a reasonably exact certitude, little else could have distracted her from the last pervading question that could not be conclusively answered until Hull – 3185 was under their control.

“Where have you been all of this time?” Sam pondered, in her most private thoughts.

“Time to Contact, 1 Minute – Twenty-two Seconds and counting Captain.” Danaé Doucet responded. If the Québecois felt any inner – trepidation of her own, the unflappable young Tactical Officer was professional enough not to let it show.

The answer to that question seemed only moments away.

“Stand by to acquire the target and lock on the Tractor Beam – emitter the moment she drops out Warp, Lieutenant. The Raleigh will be doing to same, so be sure to coordinate the beam attenuation and make sure that there’s no harmonic cross – over. It’s a shame to pull our prize apart from overenthusiasm, after all of our efforts to get her here.” Samantha ordered, as much to reassure herself – as she knew that Lt Doucet was more than capable of this challenging task.

There were so many things that they had had to plan and put into place, working on hypothesis and conjecture alone. So many moving parts that the statistical likelihood of something going awry was consistently high. It was like fishing in a canal, at night, with a blindfold on and just hoping that the right fish happened along at just the right moment.

Lt Commander Dai and her counterpart from the Science Department aboard the USS Raleigh, were both reasonably assured in their hypothesis that the rogue Starfleet Test – bed vessel was running courtesy of an autonomous subroutine running on the ship’s computer and that in each time that they had attempted to pursue the fleeing vessel and had closed to within 1 parsec – the “USS Artemis” (as the test – article had been unofficially dubbed by her intrepid crew), had jumped away. A reaction that the scientists considered contingent with a collision – avoidance protocol that the Semi – aware AI had gradually developed as part of its subroutines.

The scientists were hedging their bets that the AI had not yet had time to formulate a response for vessels to be encountered ahead of it, on it’s wayward trajectory (as this had yet to occur) and that this could (conceivably) allow a small window of time for it’s pursuing vessels to ensnare the rogue – ship with the twinned inevitability of their Tractor – beam arrays and compel the fugitive just long enough for an Away Team to breach the Hull and ensure that the haywire Warp – core could be shut down.

What could possibly go wrong?

“Science, I need everything you have once the Target is in – system and I need it fast.” The CO turned the command – chair to face her CSO. “I won’t commit an Away Team, unless I know what I am sending them into.”

Lieutenant Commander Dai’s black Betazoid eyes could not quite hide her irritation of having her request to join the Away Team denied by the CO. With the XO leading the Away Team, Sam was not about to expose the finest scientific – mind aboard ship to any unnecessary danger until the threat of the “USS Artemis” could be quantified.

Deassomi was also Second Officer, in the chain of command aboard the USS Valley Forge, protocol stipulated that with the Executive Officer so committed – that she remain aboard in case Commander Talland failed to return.

“Aye Captain, all Sensors primed. All probes reporting steady telemetry.” Deassomi demurred.

It had been the CSO’s recommendation that both ships launch a “Picket” of scientific probes, to better understand the relativistic energies that had accompanied the previous appearances of the Ghost – ship; the readings of which diversified considerably from what they understood to be typical for the experimental “Stutter – Warp” effect, that had been developed by Dr Gallian Makon.

“Time to contact, Thirty Seconds.” Doucet interjected.

Samantha nodded and opened a channel to the Away Team.

“Bridge to Shuttlecraft “Lafayette”, ETA 30 seconds. Prep to launch on my signal.” The tension was beginning to show in her voice now.

“’Lafayette’ to Bridge.” Came the response from Commander Daniel Talland, in command of the Away Team. “Standing by to launch on your go.”

That the Executive Officer has leading the Away Team, gave Sam some small measure of relief. Despite his austere, authoritarian façade, Sam knew that Daniel Talland cared a damn about all of the crew under his care and was likely to tend towards rash action. This aside, did little to salve the sick feeling of dread in her own stomach.

“Copy that, Commander. As soon as we know it’s safe to do so, you are to launch and effect access to the Hull of the target vehicle. Trust your gut, Dan, if anything seems wrong – I want you to abort and head back to the ‘Forge.”

It had been decided during the hasty planning of this desperate mission, that trying to beam the Away Team aboard the rogue – vessel was far to fraught with danger. The “USS Artemis” could defy expectation and suddenly warp away – which would be disastrous for Commander Talland and his team. The miasma of strange energies that seems to be entwined around the hull of the ghost – ship also led finer minds to question their likely effect to disrupt the transporter beam.

With so many things left to change, Sam wasn’t going to roll such an uncertain dice with the lives of her people. The danger she was sending into, was enough of a gamble.

“Acknowledged Captain, ‘Lafayette’ out.”

Location: Main Shuttlebay  – Deck#21 / Type 21 Shuttlecraft “Lafayette”

Mission Time: 21:09 hrs.

“Shuttlecraft ‘Lafayette’ you are go for launch.” Came the confirmation from the Shuttlebay flight controller and crewman Max Lane took them out.

“Copy that Valley Forge, ‘Lafayette’ departing Shuttlebay.” The young pilot confirmed smoothly as the clamshell doors receded smoothly and he eased the wedge – like shuttle out through the retaining forcefield from the atmosphere of the Main Shuttlebay and out into the cold embrace of the stars.

Seated beside him, Commander Daniel Talland reviewed the results of the scans of the “USS Artemis” that was coming in from the twinned sensors of his own vessel and that of the USS Raleigh.

“Science is reporting high levels of Thoron Radiation, as expected.” Daniel reported aloud for the benefit of the assembled Away Team who, seated in their EVA suits, were going about the final preparation for the mission to penetrate the interior of Hull – 3185 and bring the erratic rampage of the test – vessel to a definitive end.

“We are going to attempt a hard lock – as briefed, but if we cannot achieve this objective and go EVA – then we don’t want to be exposed to that Radiation for too long.” The XO warned.

Also, as previously noted, there was a gradually decaying shell of Tachyon Radiation emanating from the fabric of the hull, that was erroneous to how they understood the “Stutter – Warp” effect to work. This gave Daniel considerable concern as it spoke to a malfunction that they did not understand. He decided that he would keep this misgiving to himself and focus in leading his people.

As the Shuttle slid out between the elegant twin – sweep of the Excelsior II’s graceful nacelles and the pilot brought them around on an intercept trajectory for their destination, the forward viewscreen afforded the Away Team of their first physical view of the remains of the “USS Artemis.”

Bathed in the reflected light of the twin – tractor beams that held it fast, the Test – Article’s hull was bathed in a ghostly – pale light, that only served to deepen the macabre mystique of this ship of the damned.

“’Lafayette’ to Valley Forge, we have target on VFR – relaying visual now.” Crewman Lane reported as the Shuttlecraft performed a slow, sweeping orbit of the ghost – ship.

“Tani – what do you think?” Commander Talland invited the USS Valley Forge’s Chief Engineer up to the cockpit and there, Lieutenant Isono braced herself and looked out on a view that (presumably) no living eye had laid upon for nearly a quarter of a century.

“Considerable structural damage to the main saucer section.” The Japanese Engineer reported over the open channel. “Some weathering consistent with prolonged exposure without scheduled maintenance, that’s to be expected. Some hull – plating is missing, but underlying superstructure seems intact – so that’s probably superficial and likely the outcome of collision with celestial bodies, if the navigational deflector was operating intermittently.”

As the shuttlecraft passed over the battered hull of the test – ship, the Away Team could see the words “USS Artemis” daubed, amateurly, upon the hull in faded paint.

“Navigational Deflector itself is of an older design, concurrent with that of a Centaur – class (probably cannibalized from the Shipyards to put this ‘mongrel’ together) – showing signs of impact damage, so the supposition that it was non – functional is born out.”

As crewman Lane banked the shuttle around the aft of Hull – 3185, the craft crested the nacelles – clustered high and close to the dorsal fin.

“As observed from long – range scans and imagery, the configuration of the nacelles is non-standard, and their construction appears unorthodox.” Tani murmured with genuine interest. For an Engineer – the enigma of the lost vessel was almost irresistible.

“Sensors aren’t reading any life – forms.” Commander Talland Observed. “There are intermittent energy reading throughout the hull, but it’s hard to discern what systems are operational, given the attendant radiation. Is it likely that there is breathable air?”

Lieutenant Isono considered this briefly, before replying with a shake of her head.

“Unlikely. If the Hull damage we have seem have extended to the secondary hull, then it’s unlikely that the AI would have prioritized the generation of structural forcefields, as long as the superstructure is intact. Without any living crew to maintain, life support wouldn’t be considered a priority system. We’ll need our EVA suits, once inside, and see what systems we can restore.”

“Very good Lieutenant.” Dan nodded in affirmation. “Once we’re inside, your team is to make for Engineering and ensure that the Warp Core is isolated from the drive assembly. That’s your priority. Once we make sure that we aren’t going to warp away unexpectedly, then we can see what systems are salvageable and can be safety brought back online. Remember, there’s a lot about this ship and its systems that we just don’t enough about.”

“Aye Commander.” Tani nodded and went to resume her seat.

“Max – is there anything you can see that conforms to a docking port?” Daniel asked the pilot, as the ‘Lafayette’ skirted the port – side of the damaged ship – careful not to intersect with the Tractor Beams that secured the wreck dorsally & ventrally.

The young helmsman considered the data his console was receiving and confirmed a location visually.

“Aye Commander, there’s an airlock just down there in the fore quadrant there, I should be able to get us close enough for a ‘soft – lock.”

“Make it so, crewman.” The XO ordered and the shuttle rotated on its central axis and began to descend to mate with the battered hull of the “USS Artemis”.

“Time to suit up, people.” Talland rose from the co-pilot’s chair and placed his EVA helmet over his head, engaging the seals and satisfying himself to the attendant confirmations of the suit’s integrity. In the rearward passenger compartment – the Away Team were mirroring this activity.

“You all have your orders.” The XO commanded via the suit’s communicator channel, broadcasting to the Away Team, whose active status was coming alive as winking icons on the Holo – display being projected onto his suit’s faceplate.

“Security team, you will breach the primary hull and effect entry to the target vessel, from there on in you will provide overwatch and operational security for the elements of the away team.”

Lieutenant Savak, the USS Valley Forge’s Chief of Security nodded her gold – flashed EVE helmet and her Security Team readied their weaponry and equipment, gathering around the EVA hatch, set into the floor of the Type – 21 Shuttlecraft.

“Engineering Team – make your way to Engineering and secure the Warp – Drive. From there, see what operational power can be restored.”

“Hai, Commander.” Lieutenant Isono responded, her small knot of engineers readying themselves and took up a number of ruggedized equipment cases.

“I will lead the Command – element to the bridge and attempt to secure control of the systems there.” Daniel nodded to his own pair of Red – shirted ratings, that hopefully would accompany him on this first step in understanding the mystery of what happened to the crew of this wayward wanderer.

“If you encounter anything that places you in immediate danger, take what steps are necessary to protect yourself and retreat to the ‘Lafayette’.” Daniel checked his own hand – phaser. “Max – standby to dust-off, should we need to evac – and don’t spare the horses.”

“Any questions?”

There were none.

“Right then.” Commander Talland nodded to Lieutenant Savak , as a forcefield mated the shuttle to the hull of the ghost – ship and the floor – hatch slid back to expose the frozen airlock of Hull – 3185.

“Lieutenant Savak. Make us a door.”

Frozen in time, it had long slumbered.

Unimaginable distances it had travelled, always alone. Through ways unknowable and paths unimaginable, it had transcribed its lonely vigil through the cold, indifferent firmament.

Hidden inside it were secrets, that were only hinted at by the many scars that it wore on its hull, as it had made its way between the bounds of reality.

And now it became dimly aware that, again, it was no longer alone.

Location: Hull – 3185 / Deck-#3

Mission Time: 21:21 hrs.

The edges of the hole that Lieutenant Savak had cut with her Phase – rifle set to low intensity, when it had been discovered that no power was able to be re-routed to the airlock, which remained stubbornly frozen in place, glowed white hot for an instant, until the frozen temperatures of 2.7 Kelvin caused the energy to dissipate almost instantly.

Inside, the frozen darkness of the airlock and corridor beyond, stretched on with funerary blackness.

“USS Valley Forge, this is Away Team.” Savak sent to the CO as she activated the light on the front of her phase rifle and entered the ship, floating in the lack of gravity and training her weapon down it’s likely line of fire with practiced movements. “

We have penetrated the Target Vessel. No signs of life or resistance. Life Support and internal power is inoperable on this deck. Proceeding.” The Security Chief spoke unhurriedly, her Vulcan side preoccupied with logical contingencies, even as her Romulan side considered scenarios for betrayal and ambush.

“Copy that, Away Team, proceed with caution and report waypoints.” Came the reply from Captain Hyland.

“Acknowledged, Away team out.” Sarak keyed her comm off as the corridor intersected and the Away Team came to a Turbolift.

One of things that struck Savak, was the ‘extemporized” nature of the design, build and quality of the interior of the mysterious vessel.

Aside from the fact that every surface was encrusted in thin miasma of ice, from where the last vestige of breathable atmosphere has snap – frozen from exposure and interaction with the frozen temperatures of space, unlike a registered Starfleet Vessel, Hull – 3185 seemed to have been cobbled together from a familiar, but disparate, amalgam of federation ship parts and technologies. Here a Jefferies tube access hatch of a vintage more familiar from a Nova – Class Surveyor. There, a type of deck plating typical to a Steamrunner. An exposed EPS Manifold that looked more at home in an Oberth.

In constructing the Test – Article, it appears that the Engineers of the Arcturus Yards had rummaged and robbed every available parts bin that could yield something to cobble together something that met the most very basic demands of ‘Spaceworthiness’.

The Turbolift doors were equally unpowered, and it took all of Savak’s considerable native strength, along with the efforts of Petty – Officer Corsa and Kirkland to force them apart.

Shining a light down the shadowy recesses of the shaft, the Security Chief could see that the Turbolift car itself was halted at the penultimate Deck#4. At least that paved the way for the Command team to access the Bridge on Deck#1 with more ease. The Engineering team would have to cut their way through the roof of the car – if they were to press on through the dark interior to the Engineering Section.

“Corsa – you’re with the Commander.” Sarak sent to one of her Security Officers via the comm – channel. “Kirkland – you’re with Lieutenant Isono.” Both security officers attached themselves to the detachments, who readied themselves to depart and delve deeper into the frozen heart of the ghost – ship.

“Commander, by your leave, Crewman Latham and I will perform a sweep of this deck, before attempting to penetrate Deck#2.” Savak intoned efficiently.

The red – flash’d helmet of Commander Talland nodded, causing his helmet lights to dip and rise along the frozen corridor – briefly penetrating the frozen gloom.

“Very well Lieutenant, stay in touch.” Daniel sent as his team entered the Turbolift shaft and pushed off from the doorway and slowly rose up into the darkness.

Tani and her engineering team, similarly, entered the shaft and slowly descended until their lights could be seen on top of the stranded lift – car and the blackness was suddenly punctured by the glow of cutting – beams.

Satisfied, the Security Chief (flanked by Latham) proceeded cautiously deeper into the frozen depths of Deck#3.

The going proved tougher than first anticipated as the floated down the corridors, torchlight from their weapons cutting through a nightmare of obstructions as cabling and ducting spewed forth from open ceiling hatches – making the navigation of the cramped spaces more difficult with the EVA suit’s maneuvering nozzles.

Keen eyed, Savak noted a scattering of tools and a discarded toolbox under one such heap of detritus.

“Commander, there are signs that someone was effecting repairs to the ship’s systems at some point.” Savak transmitted to the Command element.

“Copy that Security. That means that the crew certainly wasn’t killed when the Artemis was first lost.” Talland’s voice sounded thoughtful over the hissing crackle of the comms. “Try to see is there is any pattern to the repairs and pursue that lead – could be important.”

“Copy that, Commander. Moving on to Deck#2, we’ll start with the Transporter Room. Savak out.” Savak sent and they floated deeper into the tomb – like frozen confines of Hull – 3185.

Location: Hull – 3185 / Deck-#1 – Bridge

Mission Time: 21:24 hrs.

Commander Talland led his small group upwards, the collected beams of their helmet lights stabbing through the frozen blackness, the sound of recycled breathing heavy in his ears.

Again, the Turbolift doors had to be forced apart and when the small group alighted into the narrow corridor that led to the small – bridge of the “USS Artemis”, the sight that confronted them made one crewmember cry out in terror – despite themselves.

The doors to the bridge, encrusted with a thin sheet of ice (just like everything else aboard the stricken ship), we similarly frozen shut – effectively barring entry to the command-and-control space. That much was normal enough.

What was incongruous and ghastly was the arm that somehow penetrated from through the surface of the door – it’s fingers clawing out in a frozen rictus and what appeared to be an ice-covered face – impossibly merging with the surface of the door, only a forehead, one eye and a mouth locked in an eternal scream – as the ice that encrusted this grisly tableau glittered softly under their helmet lights.

“Oh, the Prophets! “Came one shocked voice over the comm – channel.

“What could do something like that?” Petty Officer Corsa wondered aloud in hushed tones.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Sent another.

His own mind reeling in shock and horror, Daniel managed to recover sufficiently to snap.

“Belay that Crewman Hanse!” The XO tore his eyes from that outstretched arm, that hideous face and turn to the Command team. “If you vomit in your suit, that’ll be the end of you! Remember your training and get a grip of yourself Crewman! You’re Starfleet, goddammit!”

Letting his irritation distract him, Commander Talland turned his helmet back to regard the nightmarish scene.

“Valley Forge.” He transmitted. “Are you seeing this?”

There was a pause, then Captain Hyland’s heavy voice replied over the comm.

“Affirmative Commander.” Samantha’s voice was obviously tinged with regret. “We see.”

Daniel pushed his revulsion aside and took out his Tricorder and began to scan the arm and the face as they melted out of nightmare and protruded into the cold corridor, as if screaming out some frozen warning.

“The organic matter and the material contained in the door seemed to have fused somehow at the atomic level.” Daniel wondered aloud as the Tricorder told him what he was seeing.

“Any ideas on what could have cause this?” He sent.

Another pause, longer this time, then the Captain’s voice returned.

“Based upon what we see, Lieutenant Commander Dia hypothesizes that this could be indicative of a phase – incontinuity – most likely the effect of an unplanned collapse of the Warp – shell during a cycle of the “Stutter – Warp” effect. Most likely a malfunction of some kind.” Sam advised.

Daniel looked up at the frozen face protruding from the door and its eternal scream of sightless agony.

“No shit.” He commented simply.

At that moment the corridor was transformed as the emergency lighting suddenly stuttered on, causing Daniel’s heart to skip a beat.

In the cold light of the blood – red emergency lighting the frozen – tableau of death before him took on an even more nightmarish aspect.

“Commander.” Came Tani’s worried voice over the comm. “We’ve secured the ship from Warp and restored emergency power. But sir, there’s a body here and…well…it seems that it too has been affected by this ‘Phase – incontinuity’. At least I think that’s what happened. It’s hard to tell?”

Daniel breathed hard and keyed his response.

“Understood Engineering team. Well, done. See what other systems you can restore safety and see if you can get the ship’s computer operational. We need to understand what went on here.” Talland commanded.

“Aye Aye, Commander. We will see what can be done.”

Steeling himself, Daniel keyed the manual control for the bridge doors and as they slide back into their recesses – they suddenly stopped – servos whining.

Horrified (although in his heart of hearts he subconsciously knew what the source of the obstruction logically must be), Talland peered through the slowly widening, whining – gap.

The body attached to the outstretched arm and face, continued through to the other side of the door on the bridge. It was if the person was fleeing and in doing so – had somehow transcended the laws of matter and had partway run through the door itself.

Daniel felt his own stomach churn and closed his eyes momentarily.

The door gave another shudder, and the body (exposed to the stresses of the straining motor) shattered into several large, frozen, chunks and flew apart – as the door won the struggle and the body parts were severed as it gratefully slid aside into its recessed alcove.

Reeling from the shock, Commander Daniel Talland carefully stepped over the scattered body – parts and into the infernal red – glow of the bridge.

All around was rimmed in a glittering patina of red ice. The Bridge itself was small and simple in its layout, with only a Helm and Operations station with empty chairs and an Engineering MSD.

With a sinking feeling, Daniel stepped further into the command space and up to the Command Chair.

The chair was occupied by the remains of a body – cleanly severed from the mid – thorax down – it wore the recognizable remains of a Starfleet Command uniform.

“Away team to USS Valley Forge.” Commander Talland breathed. “I think that I’ve located the remains of Lieutenant Commander Micheals……”

Location: Hull – 3185 / Deck-#2 – Transporter Room

Mission Time: 21:37 hrs.

Crewman Latham removed his helmet when Savak confirmed that it was safe to do so and took a tentative sniff of the newly cycling air. It was still bitterly cold as the environmental systems struggled to restore the internal spaces of the “USS Artemis” to habitability – after such a long period of inactivity.

“Smells funny.” Latham commented as he laid his helmet down and Savak tried to interrogate the Transporter systems, to discover what they could about the fate of the Ship and it’s ill – fated crew.

Savak raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and commented.

“Quite.”

Latham had the wherewithal to make no further comment as Savak worked.

Like the rest of the vessel, the Transporter system aboard Hull – 3185 seemed to have been requisitioned or salvaged from that of a Miranda – class Frigate. Whilst Savak had not actually served aboard a Miranda, she was familiar with that type from Holotraining during her days at Starfleet Academy.

Her investigations of the jury – rigged repairs had led her here, again an access panel had been removed, and a proliferation of scattered tools told the tales of a desperate attempt to access the workings of the Transporter Pad.

The investigator in Savak dearly wanted to know why.

With practiced fingers, the Security Chief overcame the security lockouts using her universal access code and was finally able to gain access to the Transporter Logs.

What she found there caused her to frown deeply and activate her commbadge.

“Savak to Commander Talland.” She sent.

“Talland here, go ahead Lieutenant.” Came the XO’s response from the bridge.

“Commander, I have managed to access the Transporter systems. I doing so, I appeared to have uncovered a stowaway of sorts.” The Vulcan hybrid woman explained without passion or excitement.

“Clarify.” Talland demanded curiously.

“There appears to have been a bypass jury – rigged at some point, to ensure small, but continuous supply of EPS power was supplied to the Pattern Buffer, Commander.” Savak explained as her fingers flowed across the controls.

“For what purpose?” Daniel wanted to know.

“There is what appears to be a life – form saved into the matrix of the pattern buffer.” Savak intoned. “In effect, decompiling their physical form into the matrix and transforming the system into a ‘lifeboat’ of sorts. An elegant solution really – quite creative.”

“Is the pattern stable enough to attempt extraction?” Daniel asked.

Savak frowned.

“Whilst recompiling a transporter pattern saved in the buffer for so long is not without considerable attendant risk, Commander, I would strongly advise that we attempt to do so – if we wish to know more about what happened to this ship and her crew.” Savak hazarded conversationally.

“Would you care to explain your reasoning?”

Savak inclined her head to one side, thoughtfully, before responding.

“Of course, Commander.” Savak replied. “It is a logical supposition, in that the pattern retained in the Transporter – buffer appears to be that of Dr Gallian Makon, creator of the “Stutter – Warp” drive………”

Andreja was working on Deck Three when she saw the Ghost.

At first, she had been excited to grab an Engineering assignment as part of the detail sent aboard the infamous ‘Phantom’ (everybody in the Mess-hall was calling it that), even if it was just running diagnostics on the decades – old EPS manifolds threaded throughout the mysterious ghost ship.

Her career in Starfleet hadn’t quite conformed to her expectations of high adventure and discovery, that had so fired her imagination when she had applied to Starfleet technical- School.

Sure, she had learned a trade and was justly proud of her acumen and grasp of Power – Distribution – Systems. She remembered how proud her parents had been when she graduated as a Technical Specialist and wondered where that thrill had absconded to and why it had left without informing her?

Not for her was a life bravely voyaging amongst the stars, discovering new civilizations and forming the spearhead of First Contact as part of a cadre of the Federation’s best and brightest.

Although her career was in its infancy, Crewman Gallow’s reality of life on the great frontier had, to date, largely consisted of endless days of boredom and routine, only occasionally interjected with periods of bowel – tightening frustration as Petty Officer Maylen found some aspect about her performance that brokered another insufferable round of performance review.

Andreja had been starting to consider that even a transfer to duty aboard Starbase 72 might be less crushing to her dreams and career aspirations – when all of a sudden – scuttlebutt about a mysterious lost ship was all that the younger – members of the crew could (and would) talk about. You couldn’t walk three feet down a companionway without being drawn into the orbit of conjecture.

~ “Was it Cardassians? I heard that it was Cardassians?” ~

~ “Does anyone know what really happened to it?” ~

~” I heard that it was a Black Op gone wrong, all very hush – hush!” ~

~ “Is it true that the crew were really all dead?!” ~

~”I heard that they found a survivor. She’s being kept under guard in Sickbay.”~

~”Maybe she murdered everyone aboard?”~

~ “Well, where has it been all this time? Can anyone answer me that?” ~

~ “Do you think that the replictators can be reprogrammed to produce Spam – Fritters? My mom used to make them for me. How hard can it really be?” ~

As it turned out, her ‘adventure’ was just another (rather chilly), boring anonymous EPS maintenance panel, in another (quite dilapidated) Jefferies Tube on another mundane day in a very long line.

As she listlessly scrubbed the carbonization away from a flange-head of the thirteenth phase – inductor, in as many hours – Andreja was presented with the irrefutable and uncomfortable truth that, even exploring a mysterious lost ‘ghost – ship’ could be a disappointing extension of the abject drudgery and day-to-day tedium of Starfleet life.

Andreja sighed and put the component down and pulled a wet-wipe from her toolkit and did her best to banish the greasy – residue from her hands.

Her life was supposed to be so much more…. more…. than this.

Sighing, she tapped her commbadge and called out to her supervisor.

“Gallow to Petty Officer Maylen.” Andreja sent and peered at the housing where she had removed the EPS manifold from. There was carbon scoring from a massive plasma surge that had occurred at some stage in the assembly’s life.

“Maylen here, go ahead.” Came the terse reply, Petty Officer Tara Maylen had little time for her subordinate, who she considered undisciplined and prone to slipshod work.

“Ma’am, I’ve removed the manifold from Junction Alpha – Three – Seven.” Andreja reported leadenly as she keyed the results into her PADD. “It’s the same as the others – oversurge really crudded everything the – hell up and it’s total burnout. Unsalvageable.”

“Very well Crewman – move on to the next Junction and check the next unit.” Maylen conceded, so many of the systems of ‘Hull – 3185’, were either burnt out from energistic overload, hopelessly out of date in comparison to modern systems or (worse yet) seemed have been cannibalized by someone at some point – in a desperate attempt to ‘Rob – Peter – to – pay – Paul.’

As Andreja nodded dejectedly to herself and gathered her tools – she began the awkward shuffle down the cramped confines of the Jefferies Tube towards her next (thankless) task. She reached for her commbadge to confirm that she was moving on.

As she went to do so, the claustrophobic dim enclosure of the Jefferies tube was suddenly suffused with a distant, gentle blue glow.

Andreja paused.

~” That’s odd?” ~ she thought.

As she peered into the gloom, the gentle blue glow seemed to increase in intensity – as if someone was approaching from the junction ahead – climbing up the ladder that led to Deck – 4.

“Hey Maylen….” Andreja frowned.

“That’s Petty Officer Maylen to you Crewman.” Tara’s voice retorted and Andreja rolled her eyes, wondering for the millionth time what she had done to be saddled with such a Shrew?

She gritted her teeth and responded, “Apologies, ‘Petty Officer Maylen’, Ma’am – but is there anybody else working on this deck – I thought it was just me down here?”

~’Holding down this shitty – detail!’~ Andreja though sourly.

There was a pause, and then Petty Officer Maylen sent. “No – just you Crewman. Leading Crewman Marx is on Deck – 2 still trying to coax the environmental systems into some semblance of order – last I checked? Maylen to Marx – you are copying this?”

 The glow was starting to strengthen, implacably, as Andreja shifted nervously as he co – workers engaged in banter over the comm – channel.

“Yeah – I copy you Ma’am.” Came Declan Marx’s rough South – London accent, as the stocky man obviously struggled with some physical aspect of his task on Deck – 2.

“Any joy with that coolant line?” Maylen asked as Andreja’s frown deepened and, despite herself, she could not quite dismiss an uncomfortable feeling in her gut as the blue glow persisted at the end of the junction, slowly growing in radiance.

“No ma’am.” Marx reasoned. “Most of the circulatory retention has bled off or the intermix has degraded & dissipated over time through leakage and secondary contamination – juice just ain’t worth the squeeze. I’d say we have to charge the whole system afresh. Right pain up the arse it is.”

Maybe it was the fact that her co-workers weren’t really listening, or that the implacable blue glow was getting really-quite-fucking-bright-now, but Andreja seemed to have broken out into goosebumps – which didn’t make sense if Marx hadn’t got the environmental systems online. Ship was a bloody ice – box at the best of times – despite all of the frozen corpses that were rumored to have been removed by the Med – team to thaw out in the USS Valley Forge’s morgue.

They said that something ‘unnatural’ had happened to the people that used to operate this vessel, all those years ago, and it was these macabre and unhelpful thoughts that seemed to dominate Andreja’s mind as she began to unconsciously withdraw from the growing light – some part of her animalistic brain – stem instigating activity in her “fight-or-flight” autonomous reaction towards the better part of Valor.

“Are you guys sure that there’s no one else on this level?” Andreja’s voice had a note of uncertainly now – the entire Jefferies tube seemed to be alive with the wandering blue glow now – it was impossible to dismiss as the emanations of a work – light from an approaching colleague now.

“Say again Gallow, your signal’s ………” The reply was lost to a sudden and overbearing haze of static – leaving Andreja effectively alone in the perturbing light.

Her heart began to beat heavily in her chest as she looked around and began to move back down the Jefferies Tube in the direction she had come for – her toolkit suddenly forgotten.

A chiming noise from her hip, wrested her attention away as she withdrew the PADD and peered at the data streaming there. The instrument was recording a faint, but steady rise in Tachyon Radiation coming from the direction of the blue glow.

Despite herself, her eyes widening and her pupils beginning to dilate – even as the blue glow reflected in them, Andreja’s hand searched around for something, anything, with which she could improvise as a weapon.

As she did so, she was startled to see a hand reach up from the shaft in the Jefferies tube, the mustard chevron of a Starfleet Engineering member evident on the sleeve as its owner began to draw itself up from the ladder below.

Andreja let out a shuddering, grateful laugh of relief.

“Fuck, man!” She laughed, obviously this was just some stray member of the Engineering Team – blinding the shit out her. She shook her head, “You scared the actual living shit out of me, you know that?!”

As Andreja relaxed, the figure drew itself more fully from the upward – junction. Strangely the blue glow did not appear to have any definitive source of origin – rather the man (and it was a male, human – of African origin) seemed to be suffused with that strange clinging, blue light – that moved with him.

The man said nothing but proceeded to begin to crawl fully onto her level and then make his way towards her.

Andreja held her hand up to shield her eyes, to protect them from the light that seemed to intensify the closer it came. Again, something in her hind – brain started clamoring a warning – but she laughed nervously and called out.

“Seriously! Point that damned work light somewhere else will ’ya? It’s really intense.”

Exorably, the man continued to crawl towards her. Suddenly the cramped interior within the Jefferies Tube seemed beyond claustrophobic, the walls seeming to crowd in on her and Andreja found that it was difficult to breathe deeply anymore. It was like her lungs had grown too small.

The man seemed to be both looking at her and at the same time – right through her, like she wasn’t even there.

“The actual fuck?!” Andreja wondered aloud – now aware that something was terribly wrong.

The glowing figure seemed to pause and consult a PADD of his own, before mouthing something wordlessly that she could not hear – even though she was only scant meters away. The figure shrugged and then proceeded to come closer.

“I’m warning you man! Stay the fuck away from me, alright!” A rising note of panic in her voice.

On he came. Ever onwards. Those glowing eyes seeming to bore into her soul and right out of the back of her head. Onwards he came and Andreja felt tears come unbidden to her eyes and her bladder began to loosen all on its own.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY!!!!” She screamed miserably, throwing her arms up in desperate and pointless defence.

And the unheeding figure passed straight through her (the blue glow faintly receding with him) as he continued along the Jefferies Tube that seemed to both echo and muffle her screams.

She was still screaming when Maylen finally got to her position….

“Ghosts?” Lieutenant Commander Dai’s face was a mask of incredulity that served as the perfect companion to the abject displeasure resonate in her voice.

Captain Samantha Hyland spread her hands across the table of her Ready Room in a contrite show of acquiescence.

“Apparently so.” Sam shrugged helplessly as she surveyed the report on her desk.

“I don’t believe in Ghosts.” The CSO set her jaw firmly, irritated that she had been summoned to discuss such nonsense.

Commander Talland interjected reasonably, “Well a number of junior ratings apparently very much do.”

The Exec looked to his own PADD. “Dr Langah has reported an exodus of junior crewmembers reporting to sickbay for a number of alleged maladies. To a man, they are either crew that have been assigned to duty aboard ‘Hull – 3185’ or those likely to be drafted in to backfill the same personnel reporting to the CMO.”

Deassomi snorted derisively and shook her smooth – shorn head dismissively.

“Captain, speaking candidly, I’m a Scientist. I exist in a causal universe governed by quantitative imperatives and scientific rationale. As a scientist, I have seen things in this Galaxy that have defied belief and could be argued to be ‘miraculous’, to the uninitiated. However, I have never witnessed or can countenance, any evidence of life – after – death Captain and (until proven otherwise), I cannot and will not believe in the existence of so – called ‘Ghosts’!”

The Chief Scientist folded her eyes defiantly as if punctuating that this conversation was over and that she would have no hand in fueling its inanity any further.

Sam had to stifle a small smile as she pressed.

“Nevertheless Lieutenant Commander, we are faced with a quandary.”

She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes with her fingers. “Starfleet Command have rediscovered a keen interest in the work of Dr Gallian Makon and want to know where their toy has been and what happened to its crew. Don’t forget, those that were lost have families still living and we owe it to those people to find it what happened to their loved ones and provide them the answers they deserve.”

Deassomi glowered, unconvinced.

“Which is remarkably difficult to achieve, when our crew is too scared to board that vessel because their imaginations have been fueled by all this talk of spectral apparitions.” The XO added dryly.

The Captain nodded.

“The XO has the right of this. Starbase 72 has contacted us and informed us that Command has dispatched the USS Fresno to rendezvous with our position and take ‘Hull – 3185’ under tow and return it to the Starbase for extensive forensic analysis.”

Sam explained. “A California – class Utility Cruiser is the logical choice for this task, and I have met Captain Dart before and have full confidence that Mike and his Mechanics have the right vessel and expertise to complete that task. They should be arriving on station in about 14hrs from now.”

“Which is why you’re being tasked to board the ‘USS Artemis’ and prove to the crew that Ghosts don’t exist.” Captain Hyland ordered the displeased Betazoid CSO.

“We need to conclude our investigations before the Fresno arrives. Something tells me that, when Starfleet get their hands on their lost test – article, any chances of knowing the fate of the ship and her crew are going to disappear into an” Eyes – Only” Top – Secret project – designation and will never see the light of day again.

“I for one, didn’t just chase that damned thing across half the quadrant in search of answers, just to have those answers locked away. I want answers and I’m sure you do too?” Commander Talland agreed.

Deassomi sighed. It was obvious that the decision had been made, even without resorting to her native empathic talents of the mind.

Deciding to concede defeat before she said something that she would ultimately regret, the Chief Science Officer grimaced and nodded.

“Very well, Captain, but I want it on record that I do so under protestation.”

Samantha nodded evenly.

“Then the record will note that.” Hyland’s tone brokered no further conjecture. “Morale aboard was tenuous at best before we encountered this “Ghost Ship”, Deassomi. Whilst the XO is doing his level best to manage this situation – we can’t afford any further loss of discipline that can impact the efficient running of this ship or crew.”

“Yes Captain, Understood.” Dai nodded stiffly and decided to change the course of this unfortunate conversation from veering down any more inane conduits and backwaters.

“What of our guest? Has she regained consciousness?”

It was Commander Talland’s turn to speak.

“Not as yet.” Daniel admitted. “Dr Langah has kept his patient under heavy sedation to date. As I understand it, the effects of having your body decompiled and residing as a series of neural code – chains within the pattern buffer of a Transporter unit for a Quarter – Century, does not come without any attendant impacts on one’s physiology and general state of health.”

“There are answers in that woman’s head to questions we very much need to know.” Deassomi reasoned.

Sam could not agree more, and she interjected.

“Until Dr Makon is ready to be awoken and can provide that answer, I have asked Lieutenant Savak to ensure that there is a Security – detail posted outside sickbay.” The CO of the USS Valley Forge set her mouth in a determined line.

“Chief Isono is still aboard the ‘Hermes’ with her Engineering team – attempting to learn what they can from the ship’s mainframe and flight recorder – but the AI substrate that Dr Makon put in place is proving more a more difficult nut to crack. I’d dearly love to have a chat with Gallian Makon about that and many other things.” Sam said grimly.

“In the meantime, Operations are coordinating with Savak and with Medical to repatriate the remains of the Hermes’ crewmembers.” Daniel commented, inwardly shuddering at the memory of that frozen, anguished face that was literally fused with part of the Ghost – ship’s hull.

“As you can imagine, there is the difficulty of maintaining forensic integrity as we document the circumstances around each cadaver’s demise. Some of the situations our crew has been encountering has no – doubt led (in – part) to this general hysteria.”

Here, Deassomi was on more familiar ground.

“Yes, based upon the data that we have been able to gather regarding the “Stutterwarp” effect, it would seem that there has been some form of phase – variance in the flow of Warp – plasma that resulted in a sudden Hysteresis within the transit of one Warp – shell threshold to the next.” The Betazoid commented dispassionately.

Daniel grimaced and prompted, “For the non – scientists in the room please?”

Deassomi rolled her black eyes and tried to explain what had transpired upon the lost – ship, in as simplistic terms as she could muster.

“In layman’s terms then. The Stutterwarp effect relies upon joining – up – Warp enclosures. Like ‘linking-up-bubbles”, if you will. The test – article then surfs along within those ‘bubbles’, as one collapses just as another is formed. Fascinating in theory, or course, but it would appear that it was much harder to regulate in practice”.

“And something went wrong.” Sam stated flatly.

Daniel thought of Lt Cdr Micheals and his frozen corpse, neatly bisected at the waist as he sat in the command chair of the ‘USS Artemis’.

“And something went wrong.” The CSO echoed. “Imagine that you are sat aboard a starship travelling at warp and then a part (and only a part) of that vessel instantly dropped out of warp whilst all around it kept travelling at relativistic speeds. We conjecture that is what transpired during that last flight – test – some portions of ‘Hull – 3185’ exceeded that collapsing threshold before becoming enveloped in the burgeoning new warp – enclosure.”

There was silence in the Ready Room as all assembled wrestled with the ghastly implications of that.

“At speeds resulting in the injuries that we observed as sustained in the remains onboard.” Dai shrugged clinically. “Death would have been near – instantaneous to the victim, but it’s highly likely that it would have been terrifying to those survivors observing from another plane – if the effect was localized- as it appears to have been.”

“Oh, dear Gods.” Samantha breathed, feeling slightly queasy.

“Thou wouldst be great

Art not without ambition, but without

The illness should attend it”

Both the CO and CSO turned to regard Commander Talland quizzically.

Daniel shrugged diffidently and smiled. “Shakespeare. Macbeth, to be exact. It seemed sort of a fitting epitaph for such a tragedy born out of blind ambition.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow and commented awkwardly, “Well, quite…thank you for that, Number One.”

As Talland nodded contentedly, the Captain turned back to Deassomi and smiled regretfully.

“So, without giving the XO the opportunity to launch into full soliloquy – you have your orders Lieutenant Commander Dai. You are to proceed to the ‘USS Artemis’ and there conduct a rigorous scientific evaluation of this reported phenomena and provide a report reassuring the crew that it is safe enough to enable them to recommence their works aboard that ship.”

Deassomi stood, smoothing the waistband of her teal – shouldered uniform subconsciously and she nodded her assent with a curt motion of her stubbly scalp.

“Very good, Captain.” The scientist relented (reluctantly) and made for the door that adjoined to the bridge.

“Oh and ‘Commander?” Samantha called after her.

Lieutenant Commander Dai stopped and turned to face her CO.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“Good luck with your ‘Ghostbusting’.” Samantha smiled wryly and then added, as she saw the look on the CSO’s face.

“Sorry…couldn’t resist!”

Dr Langah met the Captain and the USS Valley Forge’s Chief of Security outside of Sickbay, where two Security Department ratings stood watch at the gates to his kingdom.

Jahanshir greeted the pair with his habitual avuncular aplomb, but to the trained eye there was a noticeable strain of irritation that creased his smooth sub-continental features.

“Captain, Lieutenant Savak – a pleasure as always.” Langah greeted with a warm smile that seemed to flow from his intelligent deep – brown eyes. “You will forgive me for greeting you so, here in the corridor, but I wanted to establish a few ground rules in respect to interactions with my patient – if you please?”

Savak said nothing, a raise of her eyebrow being sufficient to register the Vulcan/Romulan Officers acquiescence.

Captain Hyland was more forthcoming and allowed a tolerant smile to the CMO.

“Of course, Doctor.” Sam nodded, deferring to the physician in this – the realm of his mandate. In matters medical – even the Chief Medical Officer held primacy over the CO (unless extraordinary circumstances intervened).

Jahanshir nodded to the two guards. “Firstly – are we really sure that all of this is…. necessary?”

“Starfleet protocol Zeta-Dash-Five-Seven-Eight of the Starfleet Security Code require that….” Savak began, before Samantha smiled and cut across her bow, diplomatically.

“I’m afraid so Doctor Langah.” Sam gave her Security Chief a pointed – look as she turned to the Ship’s Doctor and explained.

“Dr Makon is the sole survivor of the “USS Artemis” and as such our only witness to the unfortunate events that transpired aboard and by – extension – the only person who can confirm the fate of that test – flight that resulted in the deaths of eleven other people.” The Captain reasoned.

“Lieutenant Savak made the call to place a Security detail to watch over Gallian Makon until her investigations have been completed. For what it’s worth, I’m in full agreement with Savak on this one – the guards stay.” Sam nodded with finality.

Jahanshir sighed with resignation and held his hands up in mock – defeat.

“A rich house makes its foolish inhabitants wise”. He conceded with a favorite Urdu proverb and indicated once again to the Security Team.” But they stay outside the sickbay – I won’t have my patient unduly disturbed further than is necessary – is that understood?”

Savak nodded her head to her Security detail and Samantha smiled brightly, hoping that the negotiations were concluded, and she could finally meet the infamous Dr Gallian Makon at long last.

“Agreed.” Sam nodded once more, then added disarmingly. “So, your patient is awake then?”

Jahanshir smiled, as the conversation rounded to a wicket more of his liking.

“Yes Captain.” The Pakistani healer confirmed. “The patient was revived from the medical coma we placed her in and is conscious.”

“Well, that is good news, correct?” The Captain enquired. “Can we speak to her now, Doctor?”

Langah held up his hands, as if to ward the question away.

“Dr Makon is indeed conscious and somewhat lucid, Captain Hyland, but her body has been through an incredible trauma physiologically and to state that the psychological shock of adjusting to the fact that you have been entombed with your molecules in stasis within a transporter pattern – buffer for nearly a quarter of a century really is considerable & ultimately does understatement a grand injustice.”

Samantha nodded gravely, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that experience must be like, to be trapped aboard a ship that was pulling itself apart, whilst all around you suffered and died in the most horrific fashion – then to find yourself suddenly somewhere else, with subjective decades passed in a seeming blink of an eye.

“Dr Makon is lucid, but extremely disorientated. I have administered a mild – sedative to lessen the impact on her adrenal system and cushion the transition mentally.” The Doctor cautioned.

“Is she able to answer questions?” Sam demanded gently.

Jahanshir sucked air between his perfect, white teeth and remonstrated. “She is capable, if a little confused. I’ll allow it, but no more than five minutes. Is this understood Captain?”

Samantha nodded her assent. “You’re the Doctor, Doctor.”

“Very well,” Jahanshir nodded his jet – black locks and smiled. “Nurse J’Tkhol will be present and if the patient shows any signs of distress, she will intervene – in the interests of the patient.”

“Then I am entirely in her hands.” Samantha agreed, “Now, may we?”” She indicated the threshold of her own Sickbay – which she had had to barter so hard to cross.

“By all means Captain.” Dr Langah smiled and bowed slightly from the waist, before turning to Savak.

“Lieutenant, I have almost completed the autopsies of the final remains from the “USS Artemis”, with the state of preservation from exposure to space – the gene – sequencing was ultimately successful – despite the extreme extent of the trauma the cadavers experienced”.

Although the bodies taken from the “Ghost Ship” were grotesquely bisected when the Stutter – Warp effect failed so spectacularly, as a doctor Jahanshir spoke with a commendable degree of professional objectivity.

“In particular – those unfortunates that were merged with at the molecular level with objects within the ship’s superstructure were very…challenging… to discern – but the computer should be finishing its correlations within the hour. We should be able to positively identify the victims and ensure the correct remains are returned to their loved ones.”

Lieutenant Savak responded with an equally dispassionate remove.

“Very good, Doctor.” The Security Chief inclined her head slightly in thanks, as she followed the CO into the Sickbay.

The first thing that struck Sam as they entered, was how dark it was.

The lighting state in the medical facility had been reduced to an extremely low level, leaving the Biobed and other paraphernalia within the space, hard to discern within the pervading gloom.

“The patient is highly – photosensitive.” Came the voice of J’Tkhol, as the Klingon Nurse approached the pair, her dreadlocked hair tied back in a neat bun. “We think that it might be a side effect of the patients long – exposure to de-molecularization effecting acuity in the Intermediate Lateral subnuclei of the optic nerve. It certainly isn’t a condition mentioned in Dr Makons’ medical records on file.”

” I see.” The Captain nodded at this reasonable hypothesis.

“She’ll probably need dark – glasses to counter the effect, once she’s up and about.” Nurse J’Tkhol reasoned, “But we find that this lighting – level causes the patient the least amount of distress, this way if you please?”

The Nurse let them to a Biobed, separated from the main ward, by a partition – affording its occupant some privacy.

On the Biobed, there reclined a Terran – woman, somewhere in her Mid – 50’s, with iron – grey hair tied loosely back off a face crenelated with careworn lines across the forehead, that suggested that she had spent a lot of her career frowning about one thing or the other.

She seemed to be asleep.

“Dr Makon?” Nurse J’Tkhol gently roused the recumbent Scientist with a gentle hand on her shoulder. This seemed to rouse the patient, who blearily opened her bloodshot eyes and peered round in some confusion. “Gallian? There’s someone here to see you?”

Dr Gallian Makon struggled to focus in the gloom and managed to mutter…” Water” as she sought to regain her bearings.

J’Tkhol raised the Biobed to a position that elevated Dr Makon to a comfortable repose and gave her water to drink.

“Dr Makon, may I present the Commanding Officer of the USS Valley Forge.” The Nurse gently prompted her patient, as she fussed with her blanket, “Captain Samantha Hyland.”

At the mention of Sam’s name, Dr Makon flinched involuntarily, and her grey eyes widened in suddenly distress (a movement made all the more striking, given that the Sclera of each eye was a deep crimson – red, where the capillaries had burst).

“Hyland….” Makon whispered in a broken tone. “But that can’t be!”

Sam was taken as taken aback, seemingly as the patient was and she took a step away from the patient.

“Is there a problem?” Samanthan demanded of the Nurse, shaken confused.

Nurse J’Tkhol made to comfort her patient with the kind of resolve that only a Klingon can broker and spoke over her shoulder to the CO.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, she can get easily confused. The sedatives don’t really help with that.” J’Tkhol frowned, obviously wishing the Captain and Lieutenant would just leave, but knowing that she lacked the authority to dismiss them summarily.

“I quite understand.” Sam frowned, recovering herself.

Dr Makon seemed to have calmed slightly, so Samantha pressed on.

“Dr Makon, I’m Captain Hyland, this is Lieutenant Savak – my head of security.” Sam spoke clearly, enunciating her words carefully – so that there could be no further misunderstanding.

“You are aboard the United Federation Starfleet vessel, USS Valley Forge. We encountered your vessel along the Former Demilitarized Zone and recovered you. You are safe. Do you understand?”

Dr Makon’s bloodshot gaze went from Sam, to take in Savak.

“A Vulcan?” The rescued scientist puzzled aloud – as if she had never seen a member of Savak’s species before.

Both Captain & Lieutenant shared questioning glances.

“You said I’m aboard a United….?” Makon frowned, as if confused by everything and anything.

“The United Federation of Planets.” Samantha confirmed, as if talking to a dazed octogenarian. “We are a Starfleet Vessel, assigned to patrol this sector of the Alpha Quadrant. We came upon your ship running on Autopilot and intercepted it.”

As gently as she could, Sam explained “Dr Makon – you were the only survivor aboard ‘Hull – 3185′. It’s important that you tell us anything that you can recollect about the test – flight that took place, before you were forced to take shelter in the ships Transporter system?”

Gallian Makon’s pale face looked ghostly in the dim light, as if she was struggling with a hydra of inner demons all at once. Tears began to stream from the corner of her eyes as she whispered.

“They all died……all gone. Every one of them. Gone” Her voice held the keys to horror unimaginable.

Samantha winced, the scientist was obviously both traumatized and distraught – but Sam was driven to double down on the truth about what had transpired during that final fatal flight.

“Dr Makon. Gallian.” The Captain pressed on as carefully as she dared. “I appreciate that you have been through a lot, and I know that you need rest – but it’s vital that we understand what led to the deaths of your crew? Was there some kind of malfunction with the experimental Stutter – Warp drive? Can you tell us what went wrong?”

Dr Makon seemed to look through Sam, as if she was not there.

“You’re here, but you’re there.” The scientists seemed to be trying puzzle something out but sounded disconnected from reality. “How can you be here and be there at the same time?”

“Maybe Dr Makon is referring to the effect of the gravtic – shear, caused by the collapse and collision with the intersecting Warp – enclosures during the accident?” Savak mused logically, “The injuries Dr Langah has catalogued could be said to be contiguous with being in ‘two places at once’?”

Whatever the rationale, Dr Makon seemed oblivious in her disconnect and Sam was growing even more frustrated with the lack of progress to her investigation.

“Dr Makon? There was evidence that some of the ships systems were cannibalized, sometime after the incident – we presume that this was on your behalf when you attempted to rig the Transporter Buffer to act as a make-shift lifeboat? Dr Makon, can you tell us how you were able to survive the incident and how long you were alone before you went into stasis?” Sam persisted.

Gallian Makon was holding up one finger to the other, frowning in a distracted manner as she tried to bring each fingertip together, with slightly crossed eyes.

“One bubble intersecting….” Makon spoke to herself quizzically.” One boundary intersecting the other…. Eternal Inflation…… Vilenkin……” her voice trailing away – lost in herself, leaving her fingertips missing each other and passing each other by.

“I’m sorry Captain, I’m really going to have to ask you both to leave.” Nurse J’Tkhol asserted more forcefully. “All of this excitement is clearly detrimental to her.”

Samantha sighed and conceded retreat.

“You’re quite right Nurse. My apologies for disturbing you, Dr Makon.” She turned to Savak.“Lieutenant, we can resume this at another time.”

Savak nodded her agreement and together they retreated diplomatically, to leave Dr Gallian Makon to her ravings in the dark.

Outside in the corridor, Samantha blew out her cheeks in consternation and put her hands on her hips.

“Well, that taught us exactly nothing.” The CO shook her head in abject frustration.

The taciturn Savak shook her own head slowly, her face thoughtful.

“Of that, I am not so sure Captain?” Savak intoned with deep reflection.

Now it was Sam’s turn to look perplexed.

“What do you mean, Lieutenant? She was obviously raving?”

“Just so Captain.” The Security Chief agreed, “Just as Dr Langah intimated, Dr Makon is indeed experiencing a state close to euphoria as a result of her ordeal, but I believe that there was very much a pattern of logic, however fragmented, within her exhortations – that could still garner some useful information.”

Samantha Hyland looks quizzically at Savak “You’re going to have to help me pull on that thread, Lieutenant?”

Savak pursed her lips and gave a slight shrug.

“At first, I thought that the content of Dr Makon’s euphoric ravings directly correlated to her work on the ‘Stutterwarp’ effect and its failure to create a stable warp – enclosure, which we posit led to the loss of her ship.”

“It’s a longshot to posit any logic out of that tirade, but continue?” Sam crossed her arms, unconvinced but intrigued.

“Dr Makon mentioned the word “Vilenkin”.” Savak explained, as if this explained anything at all.

Sam couldn’t see the significance.

Savak sighed, surely this was the kind of thing that they taught at Starfleet Academy?

“Alexander Vilenkin was a Professor of Evolutionary Science and Director of the Institute of Cosmology on Earth in the 20th century. ”Savak went on to explain to her addled CO. “Vilenkin showed that ‘Eternal Inflation’ is generic.”

“Dr Makon mentioned ‘eternal inflation’! “Sam realized aloud with sudden recollection.

“Eternal inflation is a hypothetical inflationary universe model, which is itself an outgrowth or extension of the Big Bang theory.”

Savak expounded, “According to eternal inflation, the inflationary phase of the universe’s expansion lasts forever throughout most of the universe. Because the regions expand exponentially rapidly, most of the volume of the universe at any given time is inflating. Eternal inflation, therefore, produces a hypothetically infinite multiverse, in which only an insignificant fractal volume ends inflation.”

The light of realization died in Samantha’s eyes as Savak’s thread of logic fell from her hands.

Seeing that further explanation was warranted, Savak sighed and spelled it out for her CO.

“Vilenkin went on to further develop the idea of quantum creation of the universe from a quantum vacuum. Simply put, Captain, Vilenkin was saying the universe is governed by Mathematical constraints and that Cosmic Inflation infers that, if our universe grew exponentially in the first moments of its existence, was this expansion uniform? If not, it suggests different regions of space grew at different rates — and may be isolated from one another.”

Samantha’s face was a mask of confusion.

Savak tried a different tack, but was beginning to despair of how to frame this subject any more crudely?

“What is beyond the edge of the observable space around us? No one knows for sure, and until we do (which could be never), the thought that our universe, our ‘Bubble’ if you will, extends indefinitely is an interesting one…. certainly, where Dr Makon is concerned.”

Sam thought back to Dr Gallian Makon trying to make her fingertips meet.

“She was talking about joining Bubbles…” Sam said thoughtfully.

Savak nodded meaningfully, one perfect eyebrow arched in question.

“You did say that you wanted to find out where the “USS Artemis” had been all of these years….”

Tani Isono was busy doing battle with the AI when she felt an unfamiliar presence behind her.

The shrewd Chief Engineer of the USS Valley Forge was intent on breaking the encryption of the Semi – sentient AI – algorithm that Dr Gallian Makon had put in place, 25 distant years ago, in an attempt to manage the nascent ‘Stutterwarp’ technology that Hull – 3185 was created to harness.

She had been intent on this thankless task for hours, with the computer steadfastly resisting all attempts to circumvent its password protocols and gain full control, when Tani felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

An eerie blue glow gently bathed the console in front of her and the Japanese Engineer felt her heart skip a beat – despite herself.

Tani was raised in the Shinto religion. In Shinto, it’s believed every person harbors a kami 神, a deity bound within the body. Upon death, this spirit regains its strength and emerges, requiring care and offerings like food, drink, and entertainment to “survive.”

As an Engineer, she considered herself a rational and empirical individual – but this unique cultural outlook also caused her not to dismiss the strange stories that her younger crewmembers had begun to report – of strange spectral apparitions being encountered aboard the ill – fated Starfleet test – vessel.

Death. That mystery yet to be solved. That unanswered phenomenon that all cultures try to understand. The path to the afterlife affects every single living being. The Undiscovered Country. Where do we go when we die? What do we become? Can the deceased observe us and help us from beyond?

To Tani’s mind – the distinction between science and spiritualism was a thin divide indeed. Why could the meniscus between what is established and understood and what has yet to be substantiated – not be both intangible and yet true?

With her heart hammering against her ribs and these thoughts foremost in her racing mind, Tani turned around with trepidation – ready as she would ever be to make First Contact with a traveler from the other side.

She frowned.

“Hancock. Get that goddamned light out of my face.”

“Yes Ma’am – sorry Ma’am!”

No visitor from the great beyond then, only the Engineering Department’s youngest member – Crewman Lane Hancock.

Covering her discomfort, Tani grumbled. “Don’t go just creeping round unannounced like that, Lane – I could have been operating a tool in here!”

“Yes Ma’am! Sorry Ma’am! “The young technical specialist stammered with embarrassment.

“~They just look younger and younger these days – what’s Technical School doing? Raiding the kindergartens now? ~” Lieutenant Isono wondered – regarding the fresh – faced rating.

Tani gathered her wits and was satisfied that her heart was beginning to achieve something more closely approaching a normal rhythm. She frowned again.

“Weren’t you assigned to run Level – 2 Diagnostics on the Navigational Deflector focusing arrays with Kinley?” The Chief Engineer enquired.

“Yes Ma’am.” Crewman Hancock blushed, her red hair and pale complexion only serving to enhance the tell of her discomfort. “We finished the main diagnostic series, but Petty Officer Kinley said he wanted to run some secondaries, just to make sure. He said I should go grab a coffee for him and …..”

“~And you didn’t want to be wandering around alone aboard this ship of the dead ~.” Tani thought to herself, not unkindly.

Lieutenant Commander Dai had been dispatched by the Captain, to investigate the reports of this spectral phenomena that had been reported by some of the junior crewmembers assigned to breathe life back into the derelict “USS Artemis”. The Chief Science Officer had been scouring the hull and interior spaces of the lost ship with characteristic ill – temper; a state of mind not much improved that, aside from some scientifically – abnormal Tricorder readings, this far any manifestation of these alleged – apparitions had steadfastly refused to appear.

Tani sighed in defeat. It was obvious that she was making no progress cracking the AI. She could only hope that, when Dr Makon was released from sickbay, then she could provide the necessary code – access to gain control of the ship’s computer and be able to bring all necessary systems back online.

All apart from the experimental ‘Stutterwarp’ drive.

The Chief shuddered at the memory of seeing the awful legacy of that ambitious technology – people neatly bisected where they stood or sat – killed instantly as one collapsing warp enclosure slammed into a new one being born. Others, obviously aware of the danger – seeking to flee, only to have their physical bodies merged with part of the superstructure – as the immutable Laws of Physics were cheated and tried to restore order by attempting to place two immovable objects in the same place at the same time.

Too horrible to contemplate.

Tani forced herself to smile at the nervous crewman.

“You know what, Hancock? I could really use a coffee myself. Let’s head on down to the refectory and see if we can’t scare one up!

Typical of Engineers the Galaxy over since time immemorial, with the extensive task of restoring the damaged systems aboard Hull – 3185 to working order, right after securing the Life Support Systems – one of the first things that Tani’s Engineering detail did was ensure that a bridgehead was established in the test – articles cramped communal refectory and that someone ‘got – the – coffee – on.’

She had trained them that well, at least.

The Chief Engineer and her subordinate rode the newly restored turbolift down one level to Deck#2 and they followed the aroma for nearly – recently replicated coffee to its logical end.

At first Tani thought that a number of her Engineering team were goofing off, grabbing an unscheduled break, as she entered the refectory and saw the group gathered there.

That impression was quickly dismissed.

Silent as the grave and bathed in an unnatural bluish, gossamer glow sat a small group of people wearing the distinctive uniforms of 24th Century Starfleet personnel.

Whilst they made no sound and certainly gave no impression of registering the present of either Tani or Lane, the group appeared to be engaged in an enthusiastic discourse as they went about enjoying a meal that was not there. Like a group of mime – artists holding a dinner party.

As Crewman Hancock’s eyes widened to their limit, and she emitted a sort of tiny, strangled squeak – Tani realized that she could see right through the group to the bulkhead beyond.

““Gomeifuku o oinori moushiagemasu!” Tani breathed incredulously, as she keyed her Commbadge.

“Isono to Lieutenant Commander Dai.” she sent.

Presently the disgruntled tomes of the USS Valley Forge’s Chief Science Officer, came over the channel.

“Dai here, go ahead Lieutenant?” spoke Deassomi tersely.

The Engineer swallowed and then replied.

“Grab your Tricorder and meet me in the refectory, Commander, I think I’ve just found your first customers.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Location: USS Valley Forge / Captain’s Personal Quarters / Deck# 4.
Date: 2401.12.25 / 20.29hrs

“Another Universe.” Daniel said flatly as he took a sip of his Glenlivet and rubbed his bald – head tiredly. “Is she serious?”

Sam sat back and nestled back into the familiar embrace of her couch, raising her own glass to her wry lips and nodded to her Executive Officer, as he sat adjacent to her in the small living room of her quarters.

She tipped her head in affirmation, brushing an errant lock of blonde hair from her eyes where it had been dislodged by the gesture.

“Have you ever known Savak to be anything but?”

Commander Talland pursed his lips. Partly to savor the sensation of real single – malt from an actual bottle, partly to wrestle with the implications of what the Captain had just imparted to him.

Presently he swallowed (ah! There’s the burn!) and shook his head decisively.

“I don’t buy it.” Daniel asserted with a dismissive wave of his free hand.

The CO and the XO had elected to meet socially (it wasn’t either of their duty shifts, after all) and discuss the developments of a decidedly unorthodox day. Both were garbed in civilian attire and Sam had once again been given pause to give thanks that, not only was her First Officer an intelligent and dependable man, but he was also an excellent cook.

“‘Don’t’ buy it of just ‘Won’t buy it’?” Samantha asked playfully, as she toyed with the rim of her glass. She put a lot of stock in Daniels opinion and right now – any opinion was welcome as they tried to unravel the mystery of “The Phantom.”

“Either, neither, both – it really doesn’t matter.”” Talland sat forward to gratefully accept a top – up, as Samantha poured her colleague another generous dram.

“So, you don’t hold with the theory of parallel universes then?” Sam prompted as she set the bottle back down (one that had belonged to her ‘late’ father – was he actually late?!) and looked out of her viewport – where Hull – 3185 could be seen off the port bow – securely tethered by the USS Valley Forge’s tractor – beam.

Daniel smiled wryly, refusing to rise to the bait.

“In theory, sure, why not?” he set his glass down on the small table between them and began to employ his hands to juxtapose his point – as he often did when the subject matter impassioned him.

“We live in an infinite universe, full of possibility. I’m not saying that there isn’t the potential for what is euphemistically called a ‘parallel’ universe, Sam. I’m just saying that – in subjective centuries of exploration, Starfleet hasn’t once, not once, come across any phenomenon that indicates that they exist!”

He sat back, satisfied that the main thrust of his argument had been made, as he reached for his scotch once more.

“Savak is clutching at straw’s, trying to infer lines of logic from the ravings of a traumatized woman under heavy sedation. I honestly don’t hold that an oblique reference to a 20th Century scholar can draw a definitive line to explain the fate of the “USS Artemis.” It’s just not credible!”

Sam considered this as she let the peaty aroma of the whiskey permeate her nose and palate.

“Okay.” She nodded towards the captive craft outside. “Say that Savak is wrong in her supposition and that you are right. Where do you think she has been all of these years and why has no one ever encountered her before us?” Sam folded her arms, intrigued to see how Talland would talk his way out of this one.

Daniel’s dark eyebrows ridged above his intelligent, brown eyes.

“There are a hundred more probable explanations. “He reasoned. “Space is big. It might simply be a case of probability.”

Sam gave her XO a flat look.

“’Space is Big.’” She teased. “Really? That’s your great, unifying theory?”

Talland laughed. A pleasant laugh that did much for his face. He countered.

“A subspace anomaly then, maybe the Artemis got sucked into a hyperspatial rift and spat back out onto our laps? We know THAT can happen?”

Sam was forced to concede that theory. When the Galaxy – spanning phenomena of The Labyrinth had randomly torn open holes in the fabric of the universe, her own ship – the USS Savannah – had been dragged into that space – between – spaces. It was only through tenacity and a hell of a lot of luck, that she and her crew had survived.

“Okay.” Samantha agreed, uncomfortable suddenly at the memory. “I’ll give you that one on points.”

Warming to his subject and warmed by the heady spirit, Daniel pressed further.

“Maybe they were caught in some localized temporal phenomena?”

Again, Sam thought of her previous Chief Engineer aboard the ‘Savannah, the youthful Carlito Herrera, trapped in a Tachyon – bubble, aging subjective years in mere seconds of real – time. She shuddered, suddenly wishing that this macabre turn of conversation would cease. But Talland was on a roll and wouldn’t be deterred.

“Or why not subject to the intervention of some sublimed – Elder race? Maybe whisked off to the “Q”- continuum by some cantankerous god in a pique of whimsey? I can accept all of those explanations – rather than there’s another Universe out there with another me doing exactly what I am doing right now. Sorry, but that’s just how I feel, Sam.”

Samantha was trying to dispel the memory of her own ride into space on the back of a member of a sublimed Elder – race (one that had taken the body and the mind of her father with it on its endless journey) and had tipped back the last of her Glenlivet, when they were mercifully interrupted by the chime of an incoming comm – transmission.

“Hyland here, go ahead.” Sam said a little huskily, as some of the whiskey still coated the back of her throat.

The voice of the Chief Medical Officer came over the channel, and at first Sam missed the tone of concern in his voice.

“Captain, I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour.” Dr Langah said hurriedly. “But I have just discovered something greatly worrying that I must inform you of, with some urgency.”

Samantha Hyland frowned and sat forward on her could, her instinct sharpening – the whiskey forgotten.

“I’m here with Commander Talland, Doctor.” Sam confirmed “Please, proceed.”

“Well Captain, I have completed the autopsies on all of the crewmembers recovered from the “USS Artemis” and the computer has successfully matched the remains to the personnel records on file from Starfleet. We have 100% positive matches for all twelve diseased persons, Captain.”

Sam and Daniel looked nonplussed, and she prompted. “That’s good news, Doctor, but I fail to appreciate the urgency?”

There was a long pause. When Dr Langah finally spoke, it was with some evident discomfort.

“I’ve just finished identifying the last body, Captain.” Jahanshir spoke with a note of abject confusion.

“I can comprehensively confirm that that body belongs to Dr Gallian Makon.”

Captain Samantha Hyland stared blankly into the eyes of her First Officer.

If the look on Daniel Talland’s face was anything close to her own, then it was clear that they both were succumbing to rank incredulity.

Sam spoke aloud to Dr Langah over the open comm – channel.

“I’m sorry Doctor?” Samantha’s brows furrowed deeply in confusion, and she sought to clarify what she just though that she had misheard. “I thought you just said that body in the morgue belongs to Dr Galian Makon?” She half – laughed, reasoning that the whiskey had taken over the finer points of her better sense.

No reply came back over the comm.

The XO set down his glass, moving to perch on the edge of his seat.

“Dr Langah, please respond?” The Captain urged, an uneasy feeling beginning to take seed in the pit of her stomach.

Commander Talland rose to his feet and tapped his own commbadge to open a separate channel.

“Talland to Security.”

Lieutenant Savak’s voice responded efficiently.

“Savak here – go ahead Commander.”

“Lieutenant, do you still have that security detail stationed outside of Sickbay?” the Executive Officer demanded, as Sam rose and went to the sideboard in her quarters and drew out two hypospray – injectors, that would quickly negate the adverse effects of the alcohol that they had both imbibed.

“Affirmative Sir.”

“Lieutenant – we have lost contact with Dr Langah – mid report. We need to verify his whereabouts and condition. We also need to confirm that the patient, Dr Makon – is still secure.” Daniel’s voice was firm and authoritative.

He nodded to Sam, taking the offered injector and dosing himself instantly sober then made to depart her quarters.

The Captain was already making way to her bedroom to pull on her uniform.

“Understood, Wait one.” The Chief Security Officer acknowledged.

“I’ll head for Sickbay.” Daniel called to Sam.

From the bedroom, came the reply – “I’m heading for the Bridge – if Makon’s not there, we need to lock the ship down.”

As Commander Talland keyed the door and it slid back into its recessed alcove he replied grimly.

“Whoever that was in Sickbay, there’s only one place they’re likely to be heading!”

Sam pulled her uniform jacket on and hastily re-affixed her commbadge, as she did so – she looked out of her viewport and there was the shadowy superstructure of Hull – 3185, glowing a ghostly green hue, under the light of the grasping tractor – beam.

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:02hrs

Location: Hull – 3185 (“USS Artemis”) / Refectory / Deck#2

“Well one thing’s for certain.” Deassomi Dai remarked dryly as she surveyed the results of the data that the tricorder was constantly streaming.

“They’re not Ghosts.”

As if to contradict this finding, one of the glowing blue figures rose from the table – seemed to pass straight through Crewman Hancock (making her scream – despite herself) and promptly disappeared into mid – air.

“You could have fooled me…..” Tani breathed nervously.

The Chief Science Officer rolled her night – black eyes and sighed irritably. It seemed that, in an age of science and reason, she was surrounded by the metaphorical equivalent of an angry mob of townsfolk waving torches & farming implements and looking for the nearest feline to drown.

“Tachyon Radiation.” Lieutenant Commander Dai reversed her Tricorder, so the Engineers could plainly see the readout on the screen.

“I’m sorry, what?” the slim Japanese Chief Engineer looked blankly from the device to the Betazoid officer.

“The entire hull is resonating with highly polarized ionization, most likely a by product from the Stutterwarp effect.” The Scientist explained to the angry mob.

“But surely that would have dissipated uniformly since her last jump was completed?” The Engineer reasoned methodically.

“But here and there are pockets of localized Tachyon Radiation, pooling in concentrations here and there – that is reacting somehow with the ion – streams. Put simply put – the net effect is that there are fractal pockets of time blossoming into being and then collapsing in a cascade.” Dai indicated.

“But the…..apparitions?” Tani couldn’t help but wonder aloud – they last of the ghostly figures had faded away, leaving the three living, breathing Starfleet personnel alone again in the worn – old refectory space.

“If my supposition is correct, they are not “apparitions” – rather they are “temporal – projections”, what we are seeing here are replays of events that likely took place sometime over 25 years ago – when the crew of Hull – 3185 were alive – before the disaster that overcame them.” Deassomi postulated, her keen mind forming a reasonable hypothesis.

“So we are seeing, what?” Tani tried to come to terms with the concept, “Re-Runs of the days of their lives?”

The scientist shrugged and packed her Tricorder away.

“Fragments. Pockets in time. That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.” She walked over to the spot where the ghostly quartet had seemed to be taking a meal together.

“The Tachyon readings began to degrade and dissipate in correlation to the cessation of the visual manifestation.”  She smiled wryly as she turned back to Tani.

“And let’s not forget, Lieutenant, I’m an empath and I sensed absolutely no neural activity or emotive sensations emanating from your “Ghosts” at all – living or dead. The answer to this mystery, as it invariably is to all of the Universe’s unanswered questions, is ultimately Science.”

Tani Isono looked skeptically at the CSO for a moment and then shrugged lightly.

“Well, that’s disappointing!”

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:13hrs

Location: USS Valley Forge / Bridge / Deck#1

Captain Samantha Hyland strode onto the bridge of the USS Valley Forge with strident purpose and took her seat, calling out.

“Security – Report!”

Lieutenant Savak stood at her station at one of the rail – stations, her fine features reflecting the glow of the holodisplay before her.

“Security breached the Sickbay and discovered that Dr Langah has been assaulted. It appears that he was struck from behind with some force. He is alive, but unconscious. His team is working to stabilize him as we speak.” The hybrid Security Chief reported.

“And Dr Makon?” Sam demanded.

“Absconded.” Savak confirmed. “It is reasonable to assume that she is the perpetrator of the assault and is now at large somewhere aboard ship.”

“The Sickbay was guarded by your team.” Samantha countered. “How exactly did she ‘abscond’?”

Savak inclined her head and raised a perfectly formed eyebrow.

“It would appear that Dr Makon escaped the sickbay via a Jefferies Tube, thus circumventing the guards at the door.” The Vulcan/Romulan reasoned.

Sam gritted her teeth in consternation.

“And I supposed that the Jefferies Tubes weren’t secured?”

Savak shook her head dismissively.

“On the contrary Captain. The Jefferies Tubes were secured at the time – but Dr Makon possesses considerable technical acumen – to override that lockdown is evidently within her capability.”

“Evidently.” Sam glowered sourly and then called out.

“Computer! Locate Dr Gallian Makon!”

There was an imperceptible pause then the smooth tones of the Ship’s Computer reported,

“++Dr Gallian Makon is currently in the Ship’s Mortuary ++.”

“Goddamit!” Sam swore and called out to Yevgeny.

“OPS – take the ship to yellow alert. We have an intruder at large. Lock down all Shuttlebays and secure the transporters – including Cargo pads.”

“Aye Ma’am – lockdown already underway – confirming your order to all stations.” The efficient young Ukrainian OPS chief nodded as he relayed her orders.

Sam was comforted by the Ensign’s anticipatory initiative.

“Very Good Yev’.” She smiled, thankful for a small win & turned back to Savak.

“Lieutenant Savak, organize your teams to perform a sweep of the Valley Forge, deck by deck. Dr Makon will try to get back to her ship – make sure she doesn’t.” Samantha ordered.

Whatever, whoever the person claiming to be Dr Gallian Makon was, Sam was sure that the answers to all of her unanswered questions lay in the mysterious ship that the fugitive scientist had arrived on.

“Aye Captain.” Savak nodded and rose to depart the bridge.

Sam hadn’t noticed that her fist had become clenched so hard that her fingernails were dug deep into her palm – leaving angry white welts in her flesh. She forced herself to breath out and focus on managing the situation at hand.

“Bridge to Commander Talland…” She began, when she was interrupted by Yevgeny’s urgent Slavic tone.

“Captain! We are not receiving any response from Transporter Room 2!”

Sam swore to herself as she spun round in her seat and ordered

“Savak!”

The Security Chief was already in the Turbolift, drawing her phaser,  the doors swiftly closing.

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:12hrs

Location: USS Valley Forge / Transporter Room 2 / Deck#2

The Turbolift doors hissed back and Chief Vorlan turned from the transporter controls, where he had been running a routine diagnostic.

The ‘evening’ shift was always a good time to tend to such tasks and with the USS Valley Forge in deep space with only one destination to serve, servicing the equipment seemed a natural and efficient use of his shift.

The Bolian frowned slightly when a disheveled figure entered the Transporter room. She seemed to be wearing sunglasses & pajamas and was carrying a tray of food.

The Security rating, posted with Vorlan, also turned and addressed the woman.

“Excuse me ma’am.” Crewman Lassen said. “This area is off limits. Are you lost?”

The woman with the iron – grey hair looked slightly confused and replied.

“Lost? Yes…yes I’m lost. I got a bit turned around, looking for my guest quarters?” She looked at the tray that she was holding and offered it to the Security Officer. “Could you just hold this for a moment? I think I….”

Reflexively Lassen reached for the tray that the woman seemed to let droop in her hands, the contents of the replicated meal threatening to spatter all over the transporter room floor.

With a sudden, violent explosion of action – the woman rammed the tray upwards into Lassen’s face and the hypospray that she had been hiding underneath it – slammed into his neck and unloaded it’s contents of sedative in a hissing moment.

Chief Vorlan was only beginning to register what was happening, when Dr Gallian Makon plucked the phaser from the collapsing guard’s belt and stunned the stunned Transporter Chief with everything the weapon had.

Which turned out to be quite a lot.

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:14hrs

Location: USS Valley Forge / Bridge / Deck#1

“Captain!” Yevgeny shouted urgently again. “I’m reading weapons discharge in Transporter room 2! Sensors are reading an unauthorized transport in progress!!!”

“Savak?” Samantha demanded over the Comm, the situation unravelling rapidly beyond her control.

Lieutenant Savak’s voice came over the comm, unhurried as always.

“Forcing entry now Captain.” A pause, then. “Chief Voran has been stunned and Crewman Lassen appears to have been similarly incapacitated. She’s gone Captain.”

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:14hrs

Location: Hull – 3185 (“USS Artemis”) / Transporter Room / Deck#1

With an insinuation of displaced air, a sudden swirl of brilliant blue light formed over the pad in the tiny, cramped transporter room of Hull – 3185, growing exponentially brighter from that nascent point as it filled the space in a swirl of dancing energies – a compelling aerial – ballet of swaying atoms and pirouetting motes of bluish light – until it receded and Dr Gallian Makon stepped off the pad and immediately went to secure the doors.

“Computer.” The woman called out. “Voice Ident –Makon.Gallian.Theta.Vadis.Two.Five.Nine.Seven.Alpha.One.”

The Ghost in the Machine spoke for the first time in nearly a quarter of a century and the AI greeted its maker.

“++Welcome back Dr Makon. It has been 8765.82 Days, 3 hours and 46 seconds since our last conversation++.” The AI responded. “++Would you like to play a game?++”

“Not now, maybe later.” Dr Makon replied tersely as she began to program the Transporter pad to, once again, become her desperate refuge. “This is the wrong place. I need to get back and warn them. This…this changes everything!”

The AI had nothing to add to this tirade, as nothing had been required of it to respond to.

Gallian Makon was keenly aware that her time in this place was running out, like sand streaming through a cracked hourglass.

Soon her pursuers (well, this current group of pursuers anyway – she felt like she had been running for her life – for her entire life) would catch up with her and she knew with awful certainty that she must flee this strange and terrible existence and somehow get back to her people.

They had to know what she had discovered. It might make all of the difference.

“Initiate Stutterwarp sequence – Tarro.Epsilon.Seven.Ageis.Nine”. Gallian ordered between gritted teeth. So much that could go wrong. So little time.

She was out of choices.

“++Complying++” intoned the Ghost in the Machine, and the “USS Artemis” came alive with purpose once more.

Stardate: 2401.12.25 / 21:17hrs

Location: USS Valley Forge / Bridge / Deck#1

Lieutenant Danaé Doucet couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Captain Hyland!” the svelte Quebecois officer alerted the CO.

“Talk to me TAC.” Sam turned her attention to the next disaster, as events cascaded steadfastly out of control.

“Captain, my sensors are reading a growing energy signature spike from the Warp core aboard the “USS Artemis”! Doucet’s voice called out with concern.

“That’s impossible!” Commander Talland interjected as he entered the bridge and took up station at one of the configurable duty – stations at the rail. He keyed a holo – display to life and began to drag data through the air, seeking to make order of the current state of chaos. “Those systems have been secured by our Engineering team!”

Danaé shook her long, honey blonde tresses and countered.

“Non, Commander! She’s powering up her Stutterwarp drive and attempting to go to Warp!”

“That’s insane!” Sam slammed her fist down hard on the arm of her command – chair. “Increase power to the tractor beam!”

Doucet shook her head and turned to her CO determinedly.

“The Tractor Beam is already at full power Captain!” The Tactical Officer explained with a note of concern coloring her French – inflected report. “If she goes to warp and we are still engaged, she’ll likely tear the emitters clean out of the hull!!”

“Dammit! Our people are still aboard!” Sam turned to Yevgeny.

“OPS! Emergency Beam – out! Get our people out of there!” Samantha spat.

Yevgeny Kirov shook his head in consternation – his young voice frantic.

“Impossible Captain! With the interference from their Warp core and the residual energies polluting her hull – I can’t get a clean lock on our Away Team!!”

“Keep trying!” Commander Talland interjected.

“Aye Commander.”

Samantha turned to her XO.

“We’re running out of options. Idea’s, Number One?”

Daniel was feverishly running calculations, tearing data from one glyph to inform another column of roiling figures on the holo – display.

“If they go to warp with us at this proximity, their Warp – field will pull the Valley Forge apart, Captain! Recommend we disengage and get some distance between us.”

Samantha Hyland nodded despite her misgivings; she turned back to Lieutenant Doucet.

“TAC – disengage the Tractor Beam and raise shields!”

“Aye Captain!”

Sam turned to Ellis Pennington at the helm.

“HELM! Get us out of here! Full Impulse. Make ready to go to come about and go to warp the moment the ‘Artemis’ does and lock in a course to pursue.

The boyish Risian nodded as his hands flowed across the helm controls. The view on the forward viewscreen canted noticeably, as Pennington deft brough the great Heavy Cruiser about.

“Aye Captain, Full Impulse – coming about.”

Second by agonizing second drew by, then Lt Doucet confirmed what the forward viewer couldn’t deny.

“She’s gone to warp Captain!”

“Mr. Pennington! Engage!”

The view of space seemed to elongate and slow at the same time as the Excelsior II’s powerful Warp Nacelles gained traction, gripping the hyperspace grid and propelling the ship and her crew to warp.

Samantha drummed her fingers nervously on her seat as the seconds seem to elongate, just like the starfield streaming by.

“TAC, report?”

“Merde, but she’s fast Captain!” Doucet shook her head as she attempted to track the experimental craft at warp.

“Ellis, give us everything we’ve got, I’m not about to lose our people!” Sam commanded urgently.

“We’re already at maximum warp Captain!” The young helmsman responded, as he tried to keep up with the fleeing Ghost – Ship as it tore through hyperspace, skipping from warp bubble to warp bubble as they were collapsing almost as soon as they were born.

Despite being fatally, fantastically unstable, the experimental Stutterwarp effect just could not be matched by the Valley Forge and Sam felt a stab of panic in her chest, as she watched her Away Team being borne away at warp.

Then, as if the situation could not grow any more dire, Lieutenant Dolan – the Assistant Chief Science Officer, manning the Science Station – whilst his department head was being taken hostage by the fleeing experimental vessel, called out.

“Captain! Sensors are reading a Subspace Anomaly forming around the hull of the target vessel!’ Dolan’s voice showed disbelief. “A massive buildup of self – ionizing protons/antiprotons and corresponding localized – concentrations of Tachyon Radiation!”

Sam gripped her seat until her knuckles ached.

“Hypothesis?”

Lieutenant Commander Dai’s protégé frowned at his readouts, a wan note of fascination overcoming his shock for a brief moment.

“Captain a localized subspace rift is forming around the hull of the ‘USS Artemis’, she’s being drawn into its event horizon!”

Sam looked over at Daniel, as the XO gripped the rail, echoes of their earlier conversation coming stridently back to haunt her.

“She’s entering the Rift Captain!” Dolan’s voice was near hysteria now, then. “She’s gone! The rift is collapsing!”

Commander Talland made towards the Captain’s chair, his face mask of concern.

“Sam…..” he began, but in his heart, he knew it was already too late.

“Time to total event horizon collapse 6 seconds and counting!” Dolan warned.

Samantha Hyland thought about when her former ship and crew had been forced to take shelter from the True Way in The Labyrinth. She thought of the discovery of the ill – fated USS Subic Bay; of its desperate Captain trying to stop the ravening mob that had once been his former crew from desperately trying to consume the flesh of his stricken daughter. Of the prospect of eternity lost in that interspatial wasteland between this space and another.

“Captain, there are four hundred and ninety-three souls aboard this ship, and you are responsible for the safety and welfare of every single one of them!’ Commander Talland came to stand beside her, a warning look on his bearded face.

Sam held his gaze. Her sure, blue Icelandic eyes meeting his own challenging brown glare and she spoke the words that he so dreaded she would.

“And there are Seven more aboard that ship, Commander. We’re Starfleet and we don’t leave people behind.” She said quietly and turned to Ellis as he closed his eyes in despair.

“Mr. Pennington….” Captain Hyland commanded with grim authority.

“Take us in!”

*Continue the adventure with the crew of the USS Valley Forge, when we rejoin the action in the coming Mission: “Through a Mirror, Crack’d Darkly.”…