Mission Day 94
1633 HR
Ready Room

“Okay, so, first contact situation with a clearly militarised space force of some description,” Tikva started as she walked around her desk to her seat, indicating the seats for everyone else. There was a slight numerical discrepancy however with only two seats and three officers, settled when Adelinde offered one of the seats to Gabrielle, opting to remain standing, hands clasped behind her back.

“No argument there,” Mac said, as he looked at Gabrielle. “What’s the chance that these people are the ones responsible for the nuclear winter on Beta?”

“I’d really, really doubt it Sir,” the young lieutenant answered. “That planet’s at least ten thousand years dead, if not more. Whoever did that should, would be I’d think, more advanced, if just not from having ten thousand years of history trawling around in space.”

“I’d have to agree with the Lieutenant’s assessment,” Adelinde contributed. “They lack shields of any kind, their weapons are…primitive, impressive mind you, and there was that comment the translator produced as stella incognito. Unknown star I believe would be a decent enough Standard translation.”

“Back to the first contact situation then,” Tikva punctuated with a wave of her hand. “I’m keen to open a dialogue with these people but we are in the middle of a dangerous star system. Wish I knew what parts of the defence system were still active or not, but it seems it’s given up on trying to kill us at least.”

“I suspect our presence as well is what is keeping the Talaru safe from being fired upon. They’ve intentionally taken their warp drive offline. If one of those warp missiles was fired on them right now, they’d be unable to escape it, or any follow up shots.” Adelinde’s assessment was agreed upon with a few head nods around the room.

“Yah, I was thinking that too. How many of those things are left in this system anyway?” the captain asked, looking to both her science and tactical officers.

“Two missiles remain in the active platform we’ve already scanned, though ten more missiles have been detected in disabled platforms,” Adelinde responded.

“Though my scans show antimatter containment on those missiles is likely to fail within the decade. Looks like the platform they’re on only failed a few years ago. These folks built some rather large battery banks to keep things safe for as long as possible.”

Tikva nodded with Gabrielle’s input and looked to Mac, shrugging her shoulders. “Knock out all the missile launchers? At least make this system safe? These newcomers seem more than capable of dealing with the energy platforms.”

“Sound enough call Cap,” he responded. “Could send out a couple of shuttles to bomb the launchers while we go and say hi.”

“Ooh, like that idea. Send two shuttles each, just in case there are more energy platforms. If T’Val wants to lead either flight let her, we can make do here I think.”

“Right you are,” he responded. “In the meantime, should I alert Chef we’re going to have visitors?”

“Oh go on,” Tikva added. “Best be prepared if they want to come visit. Otherwise, we’ll just have a spread for the crew, right? Right, be about it people.”

1645 HR
Shuttle Bay 1

“Gentleman,” Lieutenant T’Val spoke up as she entered into the flight briefing room adjacent to shuttle bay 1, addressing the seven gathered men in the room, enough including herself for two personnel per shuttle about to undertake operations. “Please be seated. This briefing won’t take long and we will be getting underway within twenty minutes.”

Waiting for everyone to take a seat, she brought up a system map on the main screen, highlighting two targets in red, Atlantis in green and the alien vessel in purple for now. “Commander MacIntyre has tasked us with eliminating the last remaining functional warp missile launcher in system,” one of the icons blinking in acknowledgement of its existence, “and the last repository of functional missiles in a non-functional platform,” the other icon now blinking instead. “Two shuttles have been designated for each launcher in case of functional point defence systems. Waimakariri and Acheron will play the ‘wild weasel’ function, while Buller and Shin will deliver torpedoes on target. Should initial passes fail, both flights will have enough torpedoes for a second pass before returning to Atlantis.”

“Assignments ma’am?” one of the voices asked.

“Shven and Robinson aboard Waimakariri, accompanied by Brown and O’Leary in Buller. Corbin and Daniels aboard Shin while Carmichael and myself will fly Acheron,” she replied in quick order.

“Uh, ma’am, who’s flying Atlantis while we’re away?” another voice asked.

“Ensign Petrov is more than capable Ensign Carmichael, your skill as a shuttle pilot is more important for this mission. Failing that, the ship’s most capable and certified flight officer is still aboard ship.”

“Yah, Carmichael, Cap’s still going to be here. Ain’t no one going to best her,” one of the others piped up. They’d all become experts in the legend of their commanding officer, with the scant knowledge they had the pure conjecture they’d had been forced to fill out the details with.

T’Val’s sigh at hearing a contraction was audible enough for the entire room. The main screen went out and lights came back up to full intensity. “You have ten minutes before departure. Dismissed.”

1720 HR
Main Bridge

“We’ve had a response from the Talaru ma’am,” Ensign Taru spoke up from Ops, a young Tellarite woman whom Tikva found pleasant enough. Not nearly as argumentative as others of her race she’d met, or even had aboard ship. “They’ve acknowledged our probe as unarmed at this time but advised us to maintain a distance of…around seven hundred thousand kilometers.”

“Two light seconds, fair enough for now. Petrov, think you can find us a parking spot?”

“Don’t know ma’am, very busy star system. I’ll see what I can do,” the young man said with mirth in his voice at the clearly easy task. Talaru was hanging in open space, far from any of the gas giants, so finding a spot nearby wasn’t going to be a difficult task. His most difficult task was really going to be making sure he didn’t get too close.

“Brakes are the button that says go faster, right?” asked Mac as he looked up from a padd this CO.

“Sounds right,” Tikva nodded in affirmation. She was much, much relieved for the far more relaxed officer that Mac was versus how he was when she first came aboard.

Nothing much more occupied the time or attention of the bridge crew as they went about either executing their tasks, or in the case of Tikva and Mac, reading some reports and generally just being available for their staff. All the monotony was interrupted by a few chirps from Operations and Tactical at the same time. “Antimatter explosion detected at Bogey 17,” Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va added, having come on duty not long ago. “Shin and Acheron have signalled confirmation of target destruction and are returning to the ship.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant, advise me when…” Tikva’s followup died in her throat when a series of alerts started sounding across the bridge of her ship. None of them serious or aggressive alarms, but insistent, before they all went silent at once, every unused or non-critical display all flashing away and being replaced by a Greek letter she recognised, but couldn’t place the context of.

“Omega?” she asked out loud, looking at Mac, then around at her senior staff, confused herself as to what was going on.

“Helm is answering all stop,” Petrov said, confusion in his own voice. “I didn’t input any commands.”

“I’ve just lost long range sensors,” came a voice from Science, an officer that Gabrielle thought to send up for some bridge time.

“Tactical is…limited,” she heard from behind her, Ch’tikk’va’s manipulators clicking across the controls.

“Computer, release all systems,” Tikva ordered of the ship, a beep of denial following shortly.

“Command lockout has been initiated.”

“Command override, Tikva Epsilon-Theta-Seven-Rho-Peekaboo.”

“Insufficient command access codes.”

Tikva’s rightful concern at the situation was mirrored on her XO’s face when she turned to him. “Did I just lose command of my ship?”

She had to give Mac his credit as he nodded to her, then stood up. “I’ll get down to Engineering and grab Velan. We’ll head straight for the computer core and make sure no one is doing anything. Ch’tkk’va, can you get me a few Security personnel there right now?”

“Yes Commander,” the Xindi-insectoid responded.

Watching Mac leave, Tikva stood and tugged on her uniform briefly. “Ch’tkk’va, you’ve got the Conn. I’m going to go see if I can’t call someone with higher clout than me, assuming comms are working,” she said, passing Ops, getting an affirmative nod from the officer present.

1730 HR
Ready Room

It had taken a bit of work to get a subspace link to establish, but Tikva had sorted something out. Something they’d have to consider going forward no matter what may come. Apparently one of the relays they’d been deploying on their way out here had developed a fault and while DQ-A-6 was capable of relaying information to them, it was no longer capable of relaying information back.

New commands had been issued to Relay DQ-A-7 and it was now running its own transmitter at a higher power to communicate with DQ-A-5, but the signal test results hadn’t been what she’d considered spectacular.

“Okay, let’s try this again. Computer, open a command priority channel to USS Discovery for Commodore Marshall-Bennett. Authorisation Epsilon-Theta-Seven-Rho-Peekaboo.”

The wait she had from giving her command codes for such a request and the affirmative was interminable. Eventually her terminal screen however flashed up with ‘Connecting…’ on it, the dots blinking as they waited for a response from another starship around two months at high warp away.

Commodore Bennet’s face then appeared and his usual warm, friendly demeanour was not present. “Commander Theodoras, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well Commodore, I was hoping you’d be able to help with a small IT issue we’re having here aboard the Atlantis in the middle of a first contact.” Tikva turned the monitor slightly to show another screen in her ready room that was happily displaying the letter omega and otherwise being generally useless. “Apparently there’s been a command level lockout of all ship systems and my access codes aren’t sufficient.

Sighing heavily, Bennet gazed downwards before looking back up at the young commander. “Commander Theodoras, I hereby promote you to the field commission of Captain.” Tapping something at his end, the orders quickly appeared on Theodoras’ screen along with her heightened clearance to level ten. “Congratulations. I wish the circumstances were different but I don’t have time to waste with all the pomp and pageantry that normally goes with a promotion.”

She started on the mental math of her age and today’s date, trying to figure out where in history she landed for promotion to Captain, but gave up in quick order. “I’m grateful Commodore, but field promotions are for dire circumstances. Surely this is…” Stopping mid-sentence, she looked up from the screen, not at anything in particular, just away while she thought for a moment. “Sir, why do I need a field promotion for this problem?”

“Unfortunately, you need the rank and clearance with what I’m about to share with you.” Bennet explained further as he tapped another button at his end and a secured datastream was sent over to the Atlantis. “Can you secure your ready room and ensure no-one enters?”

“It’s that sort of situation?” she asked before shaking her head and complying with what was asked of her, giving orders to Atlantis’ computers now that she could, as well as another order to clear the errant symbol from her ship’s controls and give her crew back some control of their own ship.

Once she had given him the all clear, Bennet spoke up as the datastream was decrypted, again from his end. “Captain, this is one of the biggest secrets that the Federation has and this directive which I’m about to inform you about supersedes every other one, including the Prime Directive.”

Supersedes the Prime Directive? What can do that?

Not now!

No, seriously, this is bullshit and you know it Tikva. It’s General Order 1 we’re talking about, nothing is before it.

Save 0.

She gulped, sat up a bit straighter and then finally spoke, quietly and with purpose. “I understand Sir. I’m not comfortable with the idea of overriding the Prime Directive, but I understand the implication of the priority of this situation.”

A large blue symbol appeared next to the commodore’s face and floated there. The greek symbol of Omega. “So you’ve already seen this today, this is Omega. The last letter in the greek alphabet and with it comes some old Earth religious connotation that it could also mean the end, the last. Well what I’m about to tell you is literally that.”  Bennet went on to brief her on everything she needed to know about the Omega molecule, the history of it and the directive. “Normally, if we were back in the Alpha Quadrant then a specialist team would be taking over and you wouldn’t have been promoted so quickly. Also if we had time, then you would have been properly trained to deal with this by yourself. But we don’t have that luxury right now. Almost every ship in the fleet has detected omega and we are now having to respond in a way not seen since the attack on Mars or the mass evacuation of Romulus. So instead, I’m preparing to send you a holographic datastream. In it is an Emergency Command Hologram, outfitted with all knowledge of the Omega Directive and they can brief you further on what is needed. Any questions?”

“Plenty Sir, but I assume this ECH you’re sending me will have answers for most of them. I’m assuming, after that piece about not informing my crew, that the ECH is also programmed for self destruction, or at least will purge the Directive information from its memory banks?”

Nodding, Bennet answered back. “It will and you’ll need to ensure no-one else on your crew interacts with it. Consider it your very own chaperone.”

“Very well Sir, I shall await this ECH and debrief it immediately. I’ll make preparations to abandon our first contact mission once we’ve identified the source of Omega that tripped our sensors.” She paused momentarily, then stared straight at the Commodore. “Sir, we’re the closest Federation ship to Borg territory. What are my rules of engagement should the worst come to bear?”

“Do whatever it takes to destroy Omega, whatever the cost.” Bennet ordered. “Good luck Captain Theodoras and once this is all over, I’ll make the promotion official with the biggest party since Voyager returned home. Godspeed, Bennet out.”

Tikva waited for the channel to close, for her own terminal to confirm that the channel was properly closed a second time, communication records were encrypted and secured and then, only then did she allow herself a very rare display of anger as she swept a hand across her own desk, flinging a couple of padds across her office to fall where they may.

Bullshit! Secret orders! Fear of the unknown!

The Commodore did show what happened at Lantaru.

Fear is driving this thinking.

Legitimate fear. Sure, an awesome resource, but what if someone weaponised this stuff. Boom! No more warp drive.

She slumped down in her chair and brooded for a few minutes, waiting for a receipt of this ECH she was being sent. Then the complex process of call and response no less than three times to confirm her identity before the datastream would decrypt, locked to her access codes.

“Computer, restrict all access to the ECH to only my command codes, only allow activation within my ready room and only if no one else is present.”

“Confirmed,” the computer responded.

“And create a protocol to deactivate the ECH immediately if the call button on the door is activated,” she added at the end, having a thought about that.

“Confirmed.”

Sighing, she stood, taking a moment to collect herself, to correct her uniform, even grab a sip of water before heading for the door, kicking a padd back towards her desk that had come to rest by the door to the bridge.

“Computer, unlock ready room door, authorisation Tikva Epsilon-Theta-Seven-Rho-Peekaboo.” The computer took a moment, chirped in confirmation and then finally the door swished open. Tikva stepped out and looked around the bridge, catching the attention of Ch’tkk’va. “Lieutenant, status of the missile platforms?” she asked as she walked around the bridge to approach Tactical.

“Lieutenant T’Val has reported success and is returning presently. Flight 2 is on final approach; Flight 1 will be back by 1815 hours.”

“Very good Lieutenant. Inform me when all shuttles are secured. Ensign Taru, can you please compose a message to the Talaru apologising to them, but we have other priorities we must attend to. We regret this missed opportunity but have rendered the system safe for them and wish them safe travels. Send the message to me for approval before sending.”

Numerous faces on the bridge were now looking to their commanding officer at this, most having looked forward to a chance at a first contact situation. Taru’s quizzical look was punctuated with a polite “Ma’am?”

“I know Ensign, I was looking forward to a formal dinner, exchange of pleasantries and all the pageantry, but I’ve got orders. Please compose the message.” She could feel the confusion coming off the crew, some at the sudden change in priorities, others at the lack of clarity from their captain.

“Aye ma’am, it’ll be with you presently.”

“Thank you, Ensign. Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va, once all shuttles are aboard, I’ll have some coordinates available for the helm. I want them executed immediately. Until then I’ll be in astrometrics.”

While the others were confused, or worried, Ch’tkk’va was unreadable, a byproduct of his Xindi-Insectoid heritage. But she knew there was a biological heritage there as well of accepting orders and simply undertaking them, information was shared when or if it was required. They nodded their head in understanding before voicing such understanding for the bridge crew to hear. She suspected over the next wee while she’d lean on their ability to accept orders without too many questions.

1750 HR
Astrometrics

“Terribly sorry folks, but I need the lab to myself,” Tikva said as she stepped into Astrometrics, earning a quick look from the two cartographers, then another look when they processed what she had said but hadn’t given them any further context.

“Now please,” she continued before both staffers saved their work and logged out of their consoles and departed the space in quick order.

“Computer, lock the door,” she ordered before approaching one of the primary consoles and accessing the ship’s long range sensor archives, bringing up the records about the Omega anomaly detection that had triggered the Directive she’d gotten her first initial briefing on and still had more to learn from a teaching tool she had yet to activate.

There it was, an omega molecule detection at just under 25 light years away in a binary star system. An orange supergiant and a white dwarf which catalogues indicated had erupted in a novae on at least two occasions in the records she had aboard ship. And in her worst fears directly in the direction of the Borg Collective.

Oh you better believe they’ve seen it too.

Which means the Borg are coming.

Which means we’re in trouble.

Are we both in agreement that Real-Tikva is in trouble?

Yah…

Sighing, Tikva checked for a nearby star system that would suit for directing Atlantis to. Somewhere for the crew to go and be safe, or, well, safe enough. Coordinates found, she forwarded them to Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va, encrypted the sensor logs, cleared her work history and logged off the computers before departing.

Royal Navy Starcruiser Talaru
Wardroom

“Well,” Commander Chru started as he walked into the wardroom, the last of the command staff to arrive, “I’ve got the latest from CIC. You’re not believe these numbers.” He took his seat in quick order, slotted in a datacard he’d been given and brought up the data on the ward room’s main screen in quick order.

“Their attack craft accelerated from essentially a full stop to full impulse in a matter of seconds. All sensor data we have on them is even in real time, confirmed with light speed sensors when they finally caught up, which means each of those little ships has their own hetch drive, though they never used them, so no performance curves on them.”

The others present all nodded along as they turned to face the viewscreen and take note of CIC’s findings on these United Federation of Planets people and their technology, which they seemingly took no effort to disguise its performance in front of one of the Royal Navy’s most sophisticated warships.

“And we still have no idea on how they’re communicating with their comm bouy?” Captain Gareli Nularu asked of her officers, each of them in turn slowly turning to face Lieutenant Commander Gareen, the Signals officer for the Talaru.

“No ma’am. We’ve not detected any hetch drive fluctuations in the Atlantis’ signature,” he responded, using the alien ship’s name now that they had it and even pronounced it fairly well. “Or from the bouy itself either, which must have some sort of FTL capability for how quickly they’re responding to us. Our last message was confirmed and receipted before the light speed signal should have got to them.”

“Keep on it Mr Gareen. We’re expecting lightspeed reports on where those attack craft went soon enough, yes?” Gareli asked of her XO, who nodded in the affirmative. “I’m interested to know what they were doing, especially since they have started their return already.”

“One flight even..”

“CIC to wardroom. Aspect change on Atlantis ma’am,” came a call over the ship’s PA, specifically to the wardroom as the Lieutenant Dorlim knew where her Captain was at this time. “She’s turning away from us.”

Without a word Chru brought up a feed from CIC on the main viewscreen, showing the data they had, powered by both the hetch sensors and only slightly delayed lightspeed sensors now, which showed the grey-white vessel turning away, presenting it’s aft aspect and those incredibly fragile looking hetch nacelles begging to be shot off in a fight.

“Any communications from them?”

“Negative ma’am,” came Dorlim’s response. “Correction, we’re receiving communication from them now.”

Just as Dorlim finished speaking the sensors showed Atlantis’ sudden disappearance, jumping to hetch speeds that drew gasps from most in the ward room. The light speed sensors registered the ramping up in the blue glow from those nacelles, then the vessel disappearing into superluminal speeds.

“That can’t be right…that’s over hetch 12.”

“They’re still on hetch sensors, it’s confirmed.”

“Maker, that’s…14 times faster then us on a good day.”

“Wait, look at that acceleration curve. They got up to that speed in…”

“And their attack craft had hetch drives too…”

“They’re still maintaining that speed too. Can they do that normally?”

Gareli wrapped a closed fist on the wardroom table and everyone stopped speculating instantly, looking back to their captain. “Lieutenant Dorlim, what does their message say?”

“Message reads: Captain Nularu, I regret that our first meeting must be cut short, but a pressing emergency has come up that we must attend to with utmost haste. We have eliminated all superluminal launchers within this system for you and believe your vessel is more then capable of dealing with any remaining particle beam emplacements you may find. Regretfully we do not have time for a proper exchange of gifts, so please except our communications buoy as recompense for our hasty departure. We wish you safe travels and hope your return home is uneventful. Yours, Captain Tikva Theodoras, USS Atlantis.”

“Huh…” Gareli responded. “Thank you, CIC, Wardroom out.” She waited for the comm channel to close and then looked to her XO. “Launch a boat and go check out the buoy. Mr Faramah, I’d like a course plotted to the closest asteroid they visited before they departed. I want departmental status reports within the hour as well. Mr Jaruti, work with CIC and track Atlantis for as long as possible please. I want to give the Planners back home something to think about.”

1830 HR
Ready Room

“Mac, I honestly know barely much more then you do. And what I do know I’m not allowed to tell you. Gods if I could I’d bring you up to speed, but I’m under orders here. So please, for the next few days, I need you to trust me, okay?”

She could feel the concern and worry coming off of her XO as he processed that, but his face told a different story. Determination to get an answer, to get something out of Tikva so he could be a good first officer. His concern was about not getting anything, being in the dark and not being able to support his captain.

“Okay Cap, I’ll trust you, but I want you to promise me if anything changes, you bring me up to speed before anyone else.”

“Literally have orders saying I can’t do that. Also have orders saying I can’t show you those orders, because they contain things I can’t let you see.” She was feeling the frustration of juggling all of this and it was evident in her voice and her gesticulations.

“Alright, what do you need me to do then right now?”

“We’re heading for a star system five days at current speed. I want you to make sure Engineering has everything they need to maintain speed. I’ll also be sending you some orders for technical modifications, when I know what they are, that will need to be implemented immediately and quickly.”

“And all without telling the crew why?” he followed up.

“You got it,” she responded, shrugged her shoulders and looked at him apologetically. “Sorry Mac, but situations like this is what great XOs are for.”

“I’ll want that in writing,” he said, finding the small moment of levity in all of this, the smile coming naturally to his face as he stood. “I’ll get right on sorting a few things out. Guess you’ve got some homework? Do you want me to get chef to bring you something up from all the hard work she’s done?”

“Oh, go on,” she responded and then waited for him to exit her office. A moment, then another, then she finally let out a breath and entered in a key combination to lock her door, tired of voicing her command codes.

A single padd caught her attention, peaking out from under the couch. Momentarily it was in hand, its contents reviewed and then tossed to land gently on her desk, all signs of her earlier contained tantrum eliminated. Unconsciously she tugged on her tunic, making herself presentable before uttering the phrase that would ruin the rest of her evening.

“Computer, active Emergency Command Hologram.”

Mission Day 94
1835 HR
Ready room

“Computer, active Emergency Command Hologram.”

“Processing,” was the only response Tikva got from the computer.

She stood there, waiting for a few seconds before a hologram of a man appeared before her. She didn’t recognise him, or his admittedly ruggedly good looks, but just the stance the hologram took was enough to tell her it was definitely modelled after some swaggering Starfleet officer somewhere in the Fleet. A smile that quickly spread to his eyes and the hologram extended a hand to Tikva.

“Emergency Command Hologram at your service,” he said in what she placed as some North American drawl. “Though if I’ve been activated and you’re still standing Captain, guess that means it’s somewhat dire.”

Tikva nodded and shook the man’s hand, noting the firm, but not to firm, handshake. “Omega,” was all she said as she let his hand free and indicated the slightly more relaxed area of her ready room. “Commodore Marshall-Bennett sent you to me for a full briefing since I’ve only just got my field promotion and clearance.”

“Ah, I see,” the man said as he followed, taking a seat opposite Tikva. “One moment.” He got a faraway look in his eyes, as if thinking about something, which Tikva took to mean the hologram’s programming was consulting with the ship’s computer on a few things before he came back to attention. “Right, yes, field promotion confirmed by orders from the Commodore and the Directive has been activated. Well, this isn’t an ideal briefing situation, but Starfleet is adaptable Captain, I’m sure we can make this work and work well.”

“We better. What I’ve been told has been…frightening and unhelpful all at the same time.”

“Perhaps I should just start at the beginning then, yes?” he asked, then continued with a nod in the affirmative from Tikva. “Omega is a rather complex molecule derived from a predominantly boronite ore base with enough other elements for flavouring. While it’s scientific and industrial potentials are extreme to say the least, so too are its destructive capabilities either as a purpose-built weapon or as part of a simple industrial accident.”

“The subspace rift properties the Commodore mentioned.”

“Exactly. While Omega has the power a warp core in a molecule, the fallout is commensurate with that power. The Federation’s first encounter with this phenomenon occurred during the first and only attempt at synthesising Omega under Dr Ketteract in the Lantaru sector. The molecule’s rather violent destabilisation almost immediately after being created resulted in a several light year subspace rift, making warp travel and subspace communications impossible. It took Starfleet years to find out what actually happened as travel was limited to relativistic speeds. Since then, the Omega Directive was drafted, approved and put into place in order to safe guard not just the Federation, but the galaxy at large.”

“Even to the point of violating the Prime Directive?” Tikva asked.

“Captain, would you leave an unstable warp core in the hands of a steam powered civilization?” the hologram asked back.

“Well…no. I’d do what’s needed, within the confines of the Prime Directive, to make the situation safe.”

“Now instead of a warp core, we’re talking about something that could not only destroy a planet, or a star system, but ruin interstellar civilization for lightyears around. And which is proven to be volatile. We’re not talking about a situation with a limited and contained fall out zone, we’re talking light years and billions of lives that could be at stake. And imagine if there was a galactic level chain reaction.”

“Gods…” Tikva responded as she looked down at her hands. “Prometheus gave us fire and we got burned so badly we’re running around putting all the fires out.”

“Basically yah,” the hologram agreed. “We’re trying to prevent anyone else getting as burnt as we did. The Federation got lucky – we lost a lot of good people, a starbase and a good chunk of a sector, but we can’t rely on luck all the time. We need to be proactive in this situation.”

“To the point of throwing out our guiding principles?” she asked.

“Command recognises priorities when they come along. We need to stop this phenomenon before it’s too late. The Prime Directive, medical and engineering regulations, even treaties get suspended in the face of this threat Captain. You have to stop Omega before something truly terribly happens.”

She shook her head, not really wanting to accept what was being said, but at some level understanding. Starfleet worked for the greater good and sometimes, just sometimes it seemed one needed to set aside the rules and regs that helped keep people on the straight and narrow in order to the ‘best good’ you could. She could see why such things were kept to Captains and Flag Officers – those sapients within the Federation that had already proved they knew how to do the ‘best good’ by proving themselves time and time again.

“Okay, so, it’s a do whatever needs to be done situation to save the galaxy. I understand that, I accept it, but I’m still going to let those rules and regulations guide my decision making.”

The hologram smiled and nodded. “Don’t think anyone in Command would argue with you, just don’t let them get in the way. If you can follow the rules and still come out on top, then great. But if one of those rules gets in the way Captain, set it aside and do what is required. And remember, you can’t tell your crew why. This is one of Starfleet’s greatest secrets and it has to stay that way. Can you imagine the public outcry if this got out?”

“I…I understand. So, how the hell am I supposed to deal with Omega then?” Tikva asked, setting aside her displeasure at the situation in order to be prepared to learn how to solve it.

“Depends on how many you’ve detected, where they are and what you’ve got on hand,” the hologram stated back to her.

“Sensors can only confirm an Omega signature at the moment, located in a white dwarf containing binary star system with no planets of any worth. Nearest M class world is roughly fifteen lightyears away, not surveyed. We’re on course for a star system four light years from the signature at warp nine point four. I’ll then depart in a runabout once I know what to do.”

The hologram nodded at Tikva’s report. “Well, you’d best be building a resonance chamber, plans now being sent to your terminal,” it said as it pointed to her desk, “just in case you find more than a handful. Engineering will likely need a few days to fabricate it. If there’s only a few, you could get away with a high-yield gravimetric torpedo, again designs to your terminal. Basically, a big enough charge to collapse the molecule in on itself and prevent an uncontrolled breakdown.”

“A big enough boom to suck the air out and stop a bigger boom?” she asked, getting an affirmative nod from the hologram. “I’m assuming both plans are of the ‘Just follow the plans’ sort for the crew to follow?”

“Naturally. And minimise who does and doesn’t see the plans. Trust me, plenty of suspicious people will want to know, but you need to limit this. Normally we’d be celebrating curiosity, but not right now.”

Tikva stood, thinking for a moment and then started to pace. “Right, well, the torpedoes won’t be difficult. Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va is Xindi-Insectoid, they’ll follow orders and not ask questions if I make it clear not to. Building a chamber…I recruited a particularly curious and intelligent Engineering department. They’ll figure out the workings of such a machine easily enough.”

“As long as they don’t know what’s going in it, they’ll only have half a picture. The design has been tested, refined and approved by the SCE.”

“Great comfort there,” Tikva muttered. “Fine, we’ve got five days. I’m going to hold a day on the chamber plans, maybe we’ll get a better read on the signature. If not, I’ll order Engineering to start construction.”

“And the torpedoes?”

“I’m asking one person to do the work, so straight away. How many should I have?”

“How long’s a piece of string?” the hologram asked back. “Five should be a good start. Build one for each molecule. If you have more than five molecules, you’ll need the chamber for safe dispersal.”

“Five days. I’ve got to keep my crew in the dark and not answer questions about this for five days,” Tikva said as she turned on the hologram. “Don’t delete yourself till this is over. I’m going to need someone I can talk to.”

“Not going anywhere until Omega has been dealt with Captain.”

“Good. Computer, deactivate the Emergency Command Hologram.” With that the figure on her sofa faded from view with a smile on his, its, face. She waited, unlocked her ready room door and stepped out onto the bridge. “Ch’tkk’va, I need to speak with you please,” she said to the Xindi-Insectoid and then stepped back inside.

Now we start a conspiracy.

No, we’ve been part of it ever since the Commodore sent us that field promotion. Now we’re involving the crew as our minions.

Always wanted minions.

Shut up Evil-Tikva, not the right time.

Mission Day 95
0730 HR
Astrometrics

She hadn’t slept well at all last night. Hadn’t slept really, more tossed and turned while undertaking the ritual of pretending to get some rest. But no, her brain had been firing all night with questions, what ifs, doomsday scenarios and a truly terrible idea for a change to her grandmama’s recipe for melomakarona. One particularly bad scenario was the thought of a Borg cube bearing down on Atlantis during all of this and getting not just her but the entire crew assimilated.

So here Tikva Theodoras found herself in Astrometrics for the second time in two days, again having kicked out the staff, so she could review sensor logs from the few hours she’d been away from everything while sipping at truly terrible coffee. Of all the things that could have gone wrong this morning, the replicator in her quarters had decided to pack in, limiting her selection to only a few items. She’d have to log it with Engineering, but then she’d have to clean up her quarters first to make sure there was nothing they shouldn’t see.

Needing a solution, she instead took a moment to place the cup in the replicator and get a better, proper cup. Surely a few moments to start the day properly wouldn’t result in the death of the quadrant would it? No, the universe had to have some sanctity to it. So, when the fresh aroma hit her from this new, better, superior cup of divinity, she knew things couldn’t be that bad. Coffee first, then cataclysmic events thank you very much.

Disaster #2 averted, starting a day without a decent cup of coffee, she could return her attentions to disaster #1 – Omega.

“Computer, bring up all sensor readings of star system VOY-2374-4367.”

The dutiful minion that lay at the heart of the starship Atlantis did as it was told and produced all readings of the binary star on the central console as well as displaying a holo image on the main screen. An orange giant star with a parasitic white dwarf pulling material off its voluminously larger partner, only a couple of worlds had been detected in order, neither of them of any consequence to anyone. But right there, smack in the middle of these two stars lay the source of Tikva’s current disquiet.

Omega signature detected, the screen read, pinpointing the location with a red circular reticule.

Another sip of coffee, another step closer to divinity, then she set the cup down to the pull up detailed reads. Star masses, spectral lines, approximate ages, all ignored for the one line that she truly wanted to see – just how many Omega molecules were out there waiting for Atlantis.

Four.

All it had taken to ruin her week, to put her on this particular course was four Omega molecules.

“Well, that’s not to bad,” she said to no one in particular. “Can deal with four.”

And then something horrific occurred – another molecule was detected. One moment it wasn’t there, then in the next it was.

Five.

All it had taken to ruin her week was to realise that something in this star system was making Omega molecules.

“Well shit…”

Where was that cup of coffee?

0830 HR
Forward magazines

“How is it going Lieutenant?” Tikva asked as she entered into the forward magazine’s nominal torpedo work space.

“One torpedo is complete,” Ch’tkk’va said without even looking up from their work, manipulators busy with the internals of a torpedo in front of them. “This one shall be complete within thirty minutes at which point I shall take some time to eat and rest. Ensign Borik will remain outside to limit access to this space.”

“Take your time Lieutenant, I want this work done properly and safely. One of these going off…” she trailed off, not wanting to voice it for fear of it happening.

“Would vaporise the entire starship, leaving no remains save for an expanding plasma cloud,” the Xindi said, natural clicks being heard just before the UT translated their speech. “I am aware of the dangers Captain, which is why I am taking time to rest and eat.”

“Good, good. I…thank you Ch’tkk’va, your service is appreciated.” With that she gave an appreciative nod to the Xindi and departed, leaving them to their work.

Exiting the workshop however, she came face to face with none other than Lieutenant Adelinde Gantzmann, her Chief Tactical Officer and officially off the books but open secret lover. Yah, no doubt someone in Command would have a fit about that one day, but screw them. Right now she was someone that Tikva wanted to avoid for two very good reasons.

The first being she was empathic, thanks mama, and could feel the suspicion, worry and concern all welling up within her lover. And a tinge of anger at being left out of things. The second being that Adelinde had shown a pretty good ability to see right through her, which is why she hadn’t gone to see her last night.

Which is why she hadn’t slept very well.

Which is why she sighed and looked down to avoid Adelinde’s eyes.

“Long range sensors have detected a new contact heading roughly in our direction,” Adelinde said, her voice low and quiet. “Transwarp signature.”

Her eyes shot up immediately to make sure this wasn’t some joke and all she saw was the totally professional face of her Tactical Officer. Underneath that she could still feel everything behind the mask. “Borg.”

There was silence for a mere three seconds before Tikva let out another breath. “I’m sorry Adelinde, I still can’t tell you what’s going on, but things have just gotten worse. Please, give Ch’tkk’va a hand with finishing off a torpedo modification and then bring them to the conference room.”

“Aye aye ma’am,” was all the response she got before Adelinde made to move around her into the magazine.

“Adelinde,” Tikva said, looking down. “Do you trust me?”

The moment was drawn out, but then a quiet “Yes,” was all she needed to hear. Then a pair of strong arms embraced her and held her tight. She could feel concern and worry from her lover, but for some reason it comforted her this time. Adelinde was worried for her, not because of her.

“I can’t tell you what’s really going on.”

“Then tell me a convincing lie. Tell the whole crew a convincing lie.”

Gods! This woman is brilliant!

In bed!

SHUT UP PRIMITIVE TIKVA!

So, now we just need a lie. A good lie. Something to aim the crew at.

Okay, so now what?

“I…I don’t like lying to people Adelinde.”

“Omissions of truth aren’t much better. Everyone’s worried about what we’re doing, but a lie would at least give them something.” Finally, Adelinde let her go, smoothed out the wrinkles on her uniform sleeves and smiled. “We’ll be up as soon as we’re done.”

“Thank you,” Tikva said, then turned to head for the nearest turbolift.

Right, so, what could possible be super top secret, Captain’s eyes only, that attracts the Borg and is hiding in a binary star system?

0840 HR
Main Bridge

“Ah, Gabrielle, just the person I wanted to see,” Tikva said as she exited the turbolift onto the bridge. She’d seen Gabrielle, just hadn’t registered where straight away, then tilted her head sideways at the science officer who was sitting in her seat. “Okay, I’ve clearly lost track of schedules around here, but I’m glad to see you’re getting some bridge officer time.”

“Commander MacIntyre’s idea ma’am,” Gabrielle said as she got to her feet, then sat back down when Tikva waved her back down, opting to sit herself down next to the young woman in the spare seat of the central three.

“Good good, what I want to hear. Say, tell me, we’ve got a bigger problem then I thought and I’m going to need a bigger solution then I thought. What do you know about purposefully inducing supernovas in white dwarf stars?”

“Ma’am?”

0900HR
Conference Room

“Right, let’s get things rolling,” Tikva said as she sat herself down, looking over her senior staff. “There are still some things I can’t tell you about our mission, but circumstances have changed and I’ve got a wee bit more leeway than I did a few hours ago.”

At that her senior staff all turned to face her. Oh, she knew she had their attention before, but now she had them hook, line and sinker. “I’ve ordered a course change for a star system near enough to where we were originally going because I can’t deal with the problem anymore with a runabout and need Atlantis, specifically I need the main deflector, all the power the warp core can produce and then the fastest engines for twenty light years to out run the biggest fireworks display this side of Sagittarius A-star.”

She held out a hand to Gabrielle to give her the floor. “Sensor sweeps of our destination system, VOY-2374-4367, have revealed a subspace flexure roughly five days old. By theory, this end is likely the only expression of this particular flexure, so no, we’re not looking at a possible stable wormhole just yet.”

“However,” Adelinde interrupted, giving Tikva a nod, “long range sensors have detected a Borg cube on it’s way to the same system. They’ll arrive approximately five minutes after we do if we can maintain speed.”

“Borg?” Lieutenant Velan asked rather loudly as he looked straight at Adelinde. “You serious Gantzmann? Borg, coming here?”

“One cube, that’s seemingly it,” the Amazonian woman answered.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Gabrielle reasserted herself into the briefing. “The expression of this flexure is unstable. We could potentially close it with a large enough gravimetric charge.”

“The torpedoes you had Ch’tkk’va start on,” Mac said. “We’ve got two, they’re only going to get us a few more before we arrive Captain. That going to be enough to collapse this flexure? And why are we so hell bent on closing this thing?”

“Command is concerned the Borg might be able to stabilise it and dictate it’s other expression.” Tikva looked each officers over. “Earth, Delta Vega, Efrosia, Edosia…all could be potential exit points for a Borg assault. That’s why we’re so hell bent.”

“That cube will come after us for compensation you know,” Mac threw out there.

“Which is why the Captain asked me mad person’s question,” Gabrielle said, actually giddy to talk about this. “Anyone else got any good ideas for blowing up a star?”

1000 HR
Ready Room

“Computer, activate Emergency Command Hologram,” Tikva dictated after having secured the door and more importantly another cup of coffee.

“Emergency Command Hologram at your service,” the hologram said as it came into being, then looked Tikva over. “You’re looking a big more chipper. Looks like you need a night’s sleep though.”

“No argument there,” she said, throwing herself into her desk chair and indicating one of the two opposite her for the hologram. “But I’ve found a story to keep the crew busy and the galaxy’s biggest bogeymen are helping to sell the story.”

The hologram was half way to the seat before standing straight back up. “The Borg? You can’t let them have Omega. That’s absolutely imperative.”

“Relax, I’m not going to let them. In fact, we’re working on a plan to destroy Omega, blow up a Borg cube and hide the whole thing under a truly massive explosion.”

The hologram’s confused expression was perfect. Just truly, absolutely perfect and she hid her own mirth behind her coffee cup.

“Okay,” the hologram said, “I’ll bite, what lie are you telling your crew?”

“Subspace flexure. Borg want it to make a wormhole back to the Federation.”

“And what do you plan to do about this flexure, which is clearly the ruse for Omega?”

“Oh, nothing much, just convince a white dwarf to go supernova.”

The hologram studied her for a moment, then sat down. “You’re either mad, or a genius. Tell me more.”

Mission Day 97
1320 HR
Astrophysics lab

“I just don’t see how we can do it ma’am,” Lieutenant Sam Jarro said from their spot around the meeting table in Astrophysics. “It’s a repeating nova white dwarf, it last went off a hundred years ago. It’s still ages away from building up critical mass for a nova, let alone a supernova.”

“I gotta back up Sam here Gabs,” another officer, Lieutenant Gerald Wilbur-Northcote, spoke. “Blowing up stars isn’t as easy as firing off a torpedo, even those monstrous gravitational beasties we’ve apparently got on board. I…we’ve thought of everything and I just don’t think we’ve got enough power aboard Atlantis to do what the Captain wants.”

“Not only that, but we’ll have only five minutes to pull off the plan before the Borg show up,” Sam added.

“Seven minutes now,” Gabrielle said as she picked up another padd on the table and had a quick skim of the details on it. “Velan is apparently practising dark arts in Engineering and has clawed some extra time.”

“Oh, well, two extra minutes will make all the difference,” Gerald said as he tossed the padd in his hand onto the table, watched it spin and slide before being taken up by a young Ensign opposite him.

“Glad to hear it,” Gabrielle said as she leaned forward, then looked down the assembled folk at Ensign Goresh Krek, a particular difficult Tellarite who wasn’t as academic an astrophysicist as she herself was, but certainly an equal in the practical sense. “Goresh, you forgot to account for the subspace flexure in this simulation.”

“I didn’t forget,” he retorted. “I omitted it from the report because it didn’t impact the outcome.” Goresh sipped at their cup of…the Tellarite equivalent to coffee, which smelt and tasted even more dirt like then normal coffee did to her taste buds, then set it and the padd they’d been reading down. “I devised my solution around ignoring the flexure because the sensor reads for the flexure are clearly fake.”

That got the attention of the entire room, people looking up from reports, half-baked and full-baked ideas, scientific papers and all focusing on Goresh momentarily, then back to Gabrielle to see what her expression. Seeing confusion, all eyes turned back to the tellarite, who just glared back at them all. “All of you didn’t notice the sensor readings are clearly being faked?”

“Care to elaborate a bit Ensign?” Sam asked.

“Right, for the less intelligent assembled,” which Gabrielle read as ‘those not in my field of study, and even then’, “there are plenty of good sensor reads from the last ten years on subspace flexures across the Federation and associated scientific partners. Turns out the sensor reads we’re being fed are exactly the same as the McCorksy Phenomenon.”

“What?” blurted out Jarro while a much more thoughtful Gerald pulled up the latest sensor read and archived recordings of the McCorksy Phenomenon, displaying both sets on the holoemitter built into he meeting table. “No shit…” Jarro muttered as everyone studied the numbers.

“Exactly the same,” Goresh said as they returned to reading from their own padd. “Immaterial to the question of blowing up a star mind you, but clearly the subspace flexure is fake.”

Gabrielle studied the hologram for a few moments more, confirming numbers where the same. The only differences between both number sets were the stars themselves, which wouldn’t make sense as the flexure would be impacted by the stars. Then she looked back to Goresh’s proposal and flicked it up to the hologram for everyone to see what the Tellarite ensign had proposed.

“Right, we’re all going to attack this proposal, because Goresh might be on to something,” she said, dismissing the flexure holograms in order to try and focus the group. The defiance on Goresh’s face was proof she needed for their confidence and preparation to defend their idea.

1530 HR
Main Engineering

“You want to put how much power through the main deflector?” Velan asked as he looked at the two scientists before him, wondering if they had both lost their minds.

Engineering wasn’t the quietest work space at the moment with the sound of the warp core humming away at full tilt as well as all the extra personnel he’d called in to help harness and tame the immense power. Any minor problem with the warp engines at the moment would result in engineers piling on top of it and resolving it as quickly as possible. A blown secondary coupling would get resolved straight away, primaries were being cycled to secondary loads to let components cool down, or engineers to run quick in-flight diagnostics before bringing them back online.

Preventative maintenance was the mantra at the moment, especially since he’d been told the plan would involve Atlantis dropping out of warp to do something, yet to be decided, then need to at least get to warp 1 to escape something, again yet to be decided.

“Everything we can without burning it out,” Goresh blurted out. Hadn’t that been made clear in their first statement to the Efrosian?

“Pretty much,” Gabrielle said with an apologetic look on her face for her underling’s blunt response. “Best plan we’ve got has a ninety percent chance of success, everything else doesn’t work. But we need the deflector to ramp up to max power in a truly impressive anti-graviton beam. Basically, a repulsor writ large.”

“You want to make the main deflector into a tractor/repulsor unit?” Velan asked stroking her facial hair.

“Nope, just a repulsor,” Gabrielle clarified.

“Huh…give me the specs. Only got a day to get it done right? No rush, just the fate of the Federation to worry about.”

Reassuring the Chief Engineer and providing plans, Gabrielle led Goresh out of Engineering before they could say anything else to antagonise everyone present. “You know Goresh, if this works, it’ll go down in the history books.”

“It shouldn’t,” the Tellarite responded. “Should bury the idea as best as possible. Really want to give people ideas on how to make supernovas?”

“Hey, only works for white dwarves. Jarro confirmed it with a series of simulations. And besides, a supernova is something we’d spot and have years to counter on any nearby worlds. It’s not a terribly practical weapon.”

The Tellarite nodded in understanding as they walked down the corridor to a nearby turbolift, their next destination the bridge to inform the Captain of their plan and Engineering’s buy-in.

“Why didn’t you tell the Chief that the sensor readings are fake? Shouldn’t we all be concerned the Captain is faking sensor readings?” Goresh asked as they waited.

“Chief Velan doesn’t need to know about that, he just needs plans to build to. As for the sensors, you can ask the Captain herself in a moment if you want.”

“And let her know that we know the readings are fake? Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me.”

1545HR
Ready Room

“Lieutenant, Ensign, please, sit,” Tikva said to the two science officers that had just entered her ready room. She’d been in the middle of a discussion with the ECH, behind a locked door, but the programming she’d set had worked, with the ECH instantly fading from view as soon as the call button had been hit. She could continue the discussion later. “What have you got for me?”

“Ensign Krek here as our best plan for success and by best, the only plan with a more then thirty percent chance of success, according to our limited simulation work.”

“Ninety two percent,” the Tellarite clarified, glaring daggers at Tikva.

For her part, Tikva had noticed that, but choose to ignore it. Tellarites were hard to read, but she was getting…suspicion? Determination and pride as always, likely in their plan and that it would work, but suspicion, aimed at her? Something to ask Gabrielle about later.

“Well, I like the sound of that. So, Ensign, how are we going to blow up a star, destroy a Borg vessel and close a subspace flexure all at the same time?” More importantly, what is the plan for dealing with what sensors had confirmed were now nine Omega particles.

“We need four gravimetric torpedoes of the yield specified and Atlantis’ main deflector producing the largest anti-graviton pulse it can muster.” Goresh then set a small device on her desk, a small holo emitter good for presentations. The sprung to life displaying a white dwarf with five little red dots around it, all labelled one through five. Four of the dots were on one side of the white dwarf in a cross formation, with the last dot opposite the middle of the cross on the other hemisphere.

“Careful timing will be required for this. We have time to arrive in system, launch the torpedoes and for them to arrive in position. Detonating all of the torpedoes at once will induce a pressure wave in the white dwarf. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, it would be a run of the mill star-quake, but just as the P-waves are arriving here,” the animation highlighted a spot directly under the number five red dot at Goresh’s command, “we’ll fire as powerful an anti-graviton beam as we can muster straight into the star. The combination of waves will hopefully be enough to induce a local collapse past electron-degeneracy pressure. That will then ripple through the white dwarf, dragging the star past the Chandrasekhar limit.”

The animation showed a beam hitting the white dwarf, then a rapid series of events with a timer displaying milliseconds running along the bottom. The star’s radius shrinking, then a sliver of the star disappeared to show internal processes as a shockwave starts to develop in the core, pushing outwards and tearing the star apart. One point five seconds from the anti-graviton beam hitting the star to carbon detonation in the core, another second later and they had a type 1a supernova expanding at six percent the speed of light.

“Boom,” Tikva said as the animation finished. Nothing was left, no neutron star, no black hole, just a white dwarf unbinding in a truly massive explosion. “Man, this is going to screw with pre-warp astronomers, isn’t it? A white dwarf below the Chandrasekhar limit detonating in a 1a supernova. It’s not going to be a standard candle, is it?”

“Far from it,” Gabrielle responded. “I mean, we’re not directly interfering in some far future distant species development, so Prime Directive doesn’t apply, does it?”

“Well, this won’t be seen on Earth for some sixty thousand years.”

“Sixty-two thousand,” Goresh corrected. “It will only just be off of the standard candle light curves as well. Details in my report. If it works that is.”

“I’ve got faith in the plan Ensign Krek.” Tikva looked back and once more found those glaring eyes, like she’d done something wrong to offend them personally. “Something the matter Ensign?”

“No ma’am,” they responded.

“Very good. Right, well if you two want to clean up the presentation, you can present it to the senior staff in the morning then perhaps so everyone knows what we’re doing? And see if you can refine the plan a bit more, get that success number a bit higher.”

Mission Day 98
1000 HR
Conference Room

“Thank you for that Ensign,” Tikva said as the presentation was finished. She was proud of Gabrielle actually letting her junior staffer handle the entire process of briefing the entire senior staff. Showed she had trust in people but also pushing them to take the lead on their own ideas. “Any questions?”

“Oh, plenty,” Mac quipped. “How close does the timing need to be?”

“Within the nanosecond,” Goresh quipped as they sat down at the far end of the table next to their department head. “The entire process will need to be computer controlled. I’ve already taken the liberty of working with Ensign Wilde in Tactical and Lieutenant Flydeson in Engineering to write the control program for torpedo detonation and deflector activation.”

“We’ll need to be at warp very quickly after firing the anti-graviton beam. Please consult with Lieutenant T’Val for tying in with Helm.”

“Yes sir,” Goresh responded to Mac’s comment.

“How long from our arrival in system will it take to set all of this up?” Mac followed up, fulfilling his statement about plenty of questions, though he had been nodding happily when Goresh answered his first, probably indicating a few others had been answered, which Tikva got a satisfied feeling from the man.

“Three minutes for the torpedoes to launch and assume their positions,” Gabrielle responded instead of Goresh, which drew a look from the Tellarite who for their part dropped it a mere moment later. “Main deflector capacitors will need that long to charge up so we can dump then and a hefty amount of power from Engineering into the deflector for the pulse.”

“If the main deflector burns out,” Adelinde started, “we won’t be able to go to warp. What are the burn out chances?”

Ra-tesh’mi Velan smiled at a technical question and leaned forward, resting his arms on the conference table. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. We can go to warp, we just won’t be protected by a navigational deflector field. We can however raise the shields and move away at say, warp one, maybe two if local particle density is low, until we get far enough away that we can make repairs without a shockwave hitting us. Fastest supernova shockwave ever recorded, every minute at warp one gives me just over a quarter hour to affect repairs.”

“So, we can remain at warp till shields get low, then make repairs before we vacate the area. I like it,” Tikva commented. “We’re looking at potential Borg interference, but ideally we’ll be underway before they arrive. How are our anti-Borg preparations going Lieutenants?” she asked turning on Adelinde and Ch’tkk’va.

“I’m confident we’ll be able to deal with localised and contained Borg boarding parties, but anything beyond three or four sites, five drones each, will be dangerous,” Adelinde said. “I would like to have all hands at battlestations and prepared to repeal boarders if you’ll agree ma’am.”

Ch’tkk’va nodded in assent with the statement for their part.

“Make it so. Right, we’ve only got a few actions points from this briefing it seems. Everyone know what they’ve got to get up to?” Tikva waited for a series of nodding heads, then smiled. “Right, be about it then folks. Tomorrow we get blow up a star. Seriously, how many crews get to say that?”

Mission Day 98
2000 HR
Four Forward

For some reason tonight was a very quiet night in Four Forward. Barely two handfuls of people were present at this hour, though shiftwork on a starship mean there really was no night or day flow, just a continual progression of waves of people free or not. So it was that Adelinde had invited Tikva to dinner here. She knew Tikva’s quarters would be out of bounds for the foreseeable future, until whatever was going on was resolved. Her own quarters were in a bit of a state sense she had decided to reorganise and move things around a bit, so Four Forward was the place to be.

Dinner had been lovely, as always and they had moved from a table to one of the couches by the windows looking outward, next to each other with her arm draped along the couch back behind Tikva. She’d checked and noticed the group of officers present were on the far side of the room, gathered around a single table and engaged in some sort of activity that was drawing their undivided attention, so felt comfortable enough with this limited display of affection.

And of course, they couldn’t see Tikva’s hand on Adelinde’s thigh, tapping out some beat internal to Tikva’s own thoughts.

“Really think blowing up a star is going to work?” she finally asked, a faint whisper in Tikva’s ear.

The tapping fingers stopped, then gentle squeezed her thigh as Tikva smiled and turned to face her slightly. “Honestly, I’m feeling good about this plan.”

“Will it work with whatever the real mission is?”

Tikva’s smile seemed to fade a little, a pensive expression taking over her face as she turned to look out the window at the on-rushing streak of stars. “Well, if it doesn’t, we’ll all know, then we’ll go to plan b.”

“Plan b?”

“Uh…classified?” the smaller woman said, though her tone of voice turned it into a question.

“You’ll make it up as you go,” she confirmed, being rewarded with that smile she so liked to see. And those mischievous eyes.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, her arm dropping down to rest along Tikva’s shoulders and pulling her a little closer, the couch obscuring them from the others present. “You know,” she said, breaking that silence, “I have seen those same eight people here multiple times now and I can honestly say I have no idea what they’re doing.”

“They could be plotting a mutiny,” Tikva said. “Isn’t it your job to protect my command and stop such things?”

“You honestly believe Ensigns Williams, Chu and Trel could be mutineers?” she countered, rattling off the actual officers in the group, the others being non-coms from across multiple departments.

“Gods no!” Tikva responded, her exclamation just above a whisper, which after their conversation since dinner felt like a shout. “Besides, it’s a harmless game. You should just ask them about it, they’re more then keen to explain it. Like overly keen.”

“A game?” She turned her head to look in the group’s direction and studied them for a few moments. “I don’t see any holograms or game pieces.”

Tikva gave her thigh another squeeze, then moved in closer for a cuddle. “I’ll explain it later. Not my sort of thing, but I can see how some people like it. I do hate to ruin a good thing though, but I’m exhausted from the last few days love and tomorrow is going to be….”

“Explosive?” she offered.

“Hopefully. See me to my quarters?”

“While I couldn’t host dinner, you could stay the night if you wanted. Massage to help you sleep?”

She could just about hear the cogs in Tikva’s head ticking away, mulling the offer over. She felt the slight muscle movements as she shook side to side slowly in a thinking action that she’d seen plenty of times before settling on a decision. “Fine, twist my arm why don’t you.”

Adelinde smiled at that, then stopped Tikva from standing up immediately so she could whisper one last thing in her ear before they left. “Only if you ask me to.”

Threat detected in Grid 3456A. Federation starship, Argonaut-class. Threat level moderate. Proximity to particle 010 is unacceptable. Assimilate particle 010 immediately. Assimilation of Federation starship is not required. Elimination of threat imperative.

Bringing weapons online. Shields online. Preparing for combat. Beginning scan of threat vessel shields. Vessel has dropped out of warp. Time to intercept is seven minutes.

Torpedo launch detected. Graviton manifold warheads detected. Threat to particle 010 is extreme. Increase speed.

Anomaly detected in Federation combat tactics. Torpedoes have been fired in non-standard pattern away from particle 010. Threat is unknown. Adaptation to new Federation combat tactics required. More information is required for adaptation. Engage.

Hailing Federation starship now.

Mission Day 99
1130 HR
Main Bridge

“Warp drive shut down in five…four…three…two…one…” and true to T’Val’s words, the warp drives of the Atlantis came to a stop, depositing the starship within firing range of a white dwarf and far, far closer to such a star then most regulations would ever allow. But when Tikva had said how close they needed to be as quickly as possible, she had to give credit to T’Val for accepting the orders, devising the timing and then executing it flawlessly.

And not running them into an ultra-compact stellar object at superluminal speeds.

Though that would have done the trick you know?

What, killing us so it’s not our problem?

Well, that, but slamming us into a white dwarf at warp nine with a couple thousand tons of antimatter on board probably would trigger a supernova. Should ask Camargo about that.

Don’t tell Evil-Tikva about this, she’ll get ideas.

Before T’Val she never would have thought about a Vulcan helm officer, but she had to admit that T’Val had the knack, that intuitive feel for flight. Though she probably simply called it study, practise and skill. A series of subconscious logical decision trees on what to do and when.

The knack.

“Torpedoes away,” Adelinde said in quick succession after the white dwarf had gone from not being there to occupying the entirety of the viewscreen. “Two minutes until they have reached their destinations.”

“Then just a few minutes to let the Borg arrive and then we blow up a star,” Mac chimed in as he looked to his Captain. “This is seriously genius and stupid and I’m so glad to be part of this plan.”

“Should be,” Tikva added with a smile. “I talked Ensign Krek into including the entire crew as co-writers on their scientific paper. Blow up a star, get an article written with your name on it. Fame, glory, accolades galore.”

“Those only tend to go to the important names on a paper,” Camargo piped up from Science.

“Ah well, something I can brag about at the next Captain’s dinner. ‘Oh, you aren’t a published scientific paper writer? What a shame.’” Tikva mimed the conversation, earning a couple of chuckles.

“I’d be careful Cap,” Mac said. “Plenty of actual scientist with four pips in red these days.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Before anyone else could continue, Adelinde spoke up after a series of chirps on the Tactical console behind the command chairs. “Sensors have finally identified the Borg vessel over the white dwarf’s interference. A scout ship, weapons and shields are prepared for battle. Incoming hail.”

“Put it through,” Mac said straight away.

The bridge went quiet and the sounds of mechanical workings filled the space before a cacophony of voices all speaking in unison but out just enough to add dissonance to the sound as they spoke. “We are the Borg. Leave this system immediately. Comply or you will be destroyed.”

Tikva looked to Mac, confused. They all knew what the Borg should have said. This, this wasn’t the Borg. Though, for her own part she was giving Mac the look, the entire bridge crew really, as a piece of performative art. She was expecting something to be off with the Borg, just wasn’t prepared for what exactly.

“Come and make us,” Tikva said and then raised a hand to let Adelinde know to cut the comm channel.

“Scout has just dropped out of transwarp. One minutes until weapons range with us.”

Waiting to a count of five, Tikva stood and wondered forward to the helm. “Hand over the helm to computer control Lieutenant.”

“Aye ma’am,” the vulcan woman said as she entered in a few commands. “Helm is answering computer control now.”

“Rrr’mmm’bal’rrr, ready?”

“Twenty more seconds to get the capacitors charged ma’am, then we’re dumping them and all the spare power into the main deflector for one hell of a push.”

“Good, good.” Tikva was nervous but doing her best not to show it. She wanted someone to actually be flying the ship, but the timing was just to close, only the computer could get it all right with millisecond precision. She wanted to be flying, that was more it than anything else.

“Borg scout?”

“Closing on the subspace flexure,” Adelinde responded. “It’s scanning us, but it seems like the flexure is more important. They’ll be on shortly.”

“Rrr?” Tikva asked.

“Almost.”

“Well fire when ready will you,” she responded, getting nervous, her words a bit terser than she wanted them to be. She couldn’t risk the Collective getting their hands on Omega and that meant catching them with no chance to collect the molecule and get away.

The bridge was quiet for a moment before the large Gaen jammed a rocky finger on his console and a sequence of computer timed events took place.

Alert, anomaly detected. Graviton manifold warhead detonations have been detected. Threat to particle 010 is negligible. Federation behaviour is unknown. Omega Directive is not being followed.

Anti-graviton beam has been detected from Federation starship. Target is secondary stellar object. Beam has shut off. Federation starship has jumped to warp. Threat to particle 010 has dissipated.

Warning! Anomalous behaviour from secondary stellar object detected. Electron-degeneracy pressure has been overcome. Supernova imminent. Threat to particle 010 overwhelming. Attempting to beam aboard particle 010.

Subspace interference from star instability preventing transporter function. Supernova in prog….

And then there was silence…

Followed by a roar, carried forth into the void by the outpouring material of a dying star’s last hurrah in the cosmos. As pressures ramped from electrons collapsing into protons fusion was restarted in the core of the white dwarf. Carbon, to heavy to burn save for in the largest of supergiant stars start to fuse and temperatures begin to rise uncontrollably. No method is left to allow the star to regulate its internal temperature and the star’s core explodes, imparting enough energy to every atom, every subatomic particle to unbind the star.

Everything explodes outward to race across the cosmos, leaving nothing behind, sweeping forth with such raw energy that the only thing left is the white dwarf’s partner, ravaged by the explosion, it’s outer layers ripped off and forever changed.

“We are at warp one,” T’Val announced as she studied her instruments. “We are out pacing the shockwave quite handsomely.”

“Confirmed that the Borg scout has been destroyed.”

“Subspace flexure has disappeared from sensors. Oh wow! We were so damn close to that white dwarf; I’ve got some awesome scans of the supernova up close just before we jumped to warp.” Camargo was a kid in a candy story with her stellar interior scans. Most starships didn’t get that close to white dwarfs unless they had to. None ever got that close and purposefully set one off in a cataclysmic detonation.

“Mac, you have the bridge, I’ll be in astrometrics.”

1145 HR
Astrometrics Lab

This time when she entered, the two personnel didn’t even need orders. They saw their captain, locked their consoles and left Astrometrics, though both were giving her somewhat disapproving glances as they did so. She could guess way, asking them to stop in their work scanning a type 1a supernova up close, but that was minor compared to what the real mission was.

“Doors locked,” the computer announced when she’d finished entering her command codes.

“Computer, scan for Omega molecules.”

“No Omega molecules within range of long-range scanners.”

She sighed. Her shoulders relaxed and tension evaporated out of her instantly. Tension she didn’t even realise she’d been carrying as it had been there for days.

Reports needed to be finalised, logs and records encrypted and locked away. Debriefs done where they could be done. Then there would be the reports from her crew, the scientific anomalies, the write up about a supernova.

Hello tension my old friend.

Hello! Let’s get those shoulders all tensed up again!

Mission Day 1400 HR
Conference Room

There was a sea of blue assembled as Tikva sat down at the head of the table, every other seat taken up by a Science staffer from Astrophysics and Stellar Cartography, as well a few of the Pure Physics people aboard ship who sat across multiple science teams.

Gabrielle sat at the opposite end of the table and was smiling like the Cheshire Cat as she looked to her Captain. She’d assembled everyone hear to present initial discoveries and findings to Tikva as well as to acknowledge the work everyone had put in to make Ensign Krek’s plan a viable one.

It was going to be a long hour, but seeing as it had only been a little over two hours since they’d blown a star up, some initial findings were perhaps worth suffering through. Let them all know she was interested, and she was, just not right now.

She should have declined, made Mac do it, but this was important to crew moral, so she’d taken the hit, let Mac take the next one.

“Thank you for joining us Captain,” Gabrielle started. “Hoping you don’t mind, but the agenda is still fluid. Hoping we can cover the Krek Method of stellar detonation, then move into high level findings and then cover any initial differences with a normal type 1a.”

“Have we settled on Krek Method?” Tikva asked, looking to the Tellarite Ensign and was again met with that defiant, challenging look.

“The team won’t let me call it anything without my name in it, so it’ll do,” they responded, then cast their glare to a few others in the room, all smiling like fools. “Besides, now it’s purely mine and not theirs.”

“Now hang on,” a Lieutenant started to protest with a jovial tone, then stopped when he looked to Camargo and got a death glare, then looked towards Tikva. “Sorry ma’am. Krek rightly does deserve the recognition.”

“As long as your names on principle co-authors,” she responded and looked to Krek who for their part nodded in the ascent.

“That settled,” Camargo retaking the reins of the meeting, “let’s get started on the method itself for everyone.”

And the lecture began thusly.

1510 HR
Ready Room

“Computer, activate ECH,” she said after securing the door and actually fell back onto the locked door, resting against it for a moment.

And again, the figure materialised before her. “Emergency Command Hologram at your service.” Then it noticed Tikva standing with her back against the door, looking exhausted. “Take it things are going well then?”

“Omega is all gone, nothing on sensors but a supernova and no more Borg either,” she said as she pushed off from the door, “so we can end the Omega Directive.”

The hologram, previously rather emotive, just freezes, it’s expression not changing at all, or reacting to Tikva’s movements. It took her a moment to realise what was happening, then the ECH disappeared then reappeared. “Emergency Command Hologram at your service,” it said with the same swagger. “Captain Tikva Theodoras,” it said after getting its bearings. “I don’t believe I need to be active if you’re in command.”

“Huh,” she said to herself, taking her seat and looking at the hologram. “Omega, what do you know about it?”

“Greek letter, represents angular velocity in physics, religious connotations,” it went to continue but she raised a hand to stop the program.

“Right, guess that was the clean-up algorithm running its course.”

“Ma’am?” it asked, looking at her confused. “Nothing, nothing. Computer, deactivate and delete the ECH from memory.”

For its part the ECH just stood there, but the computer was the one to chirp up this time, asking for verification, then a command code, then another verification before deactivating the ECH and then purging the program from the computer.

She had a command crew, she had a XO she trusted and if things were so bad a hologram needed to take over, the ship was probably to badly damaged to run it anyway. She shook her head and then pulled over her computer terminal. “Computer, being Captain’s log, encrypt under the omega directive.”

A few chirps, then confirmation the log was started.

1800 HR
Ready Room

Tikva had let Mac in for a quick change before change of shift and instead ordered him to sit while she went for a secret compartment in her Ready Room for a bottle of ouzo, which she kept for situations just like this. Two glasses were set down, the bottle whose label was only in Greek was uncorked and shots poured in quick succession, careful not to spill any.

“What’s the occasion?” Mac asked as she sat back down, collecting his glass as she did and sniffing at it experimentally. “Ouzo? Really?”

“Símera ímastan o Promithéas,” she says, then downs her shot, setting the glass down carefully afterwards.

“Today something something Prometheus?” Mac asked, then followed suit, though the look on his face told Tikva all she needed to know about his taste for ouzo. Her supply was safe from being pillaged it would seem.

“Today we were Prometheus,” she corrected. “Good catch though.” She poured herself another shot, then offered one to Mac who stopped her. A shrug, then she finished pouring, looked it over and downed it as well.

“It’s this fucking not being able to tell you why we did what we did that’s pissing me off,” she finally offered. “The ouzo was by way of thanks for being there, for not questioning it much. I bet other officers across the fleet would have been prying, been angry, been demanding answers. We had it easy, I’m guessing mind.”

“This sort of things common?”

She shook her head. “No idea. I literally only heard about it when I called the Commodore to find out why I couldn’t unlock my own damn ship. Gave me a promotion on the spot right there so he could tell me what was going on.”

“Wait…what? Promoted you?” He looked pissed off at that revelation. She could feel it to, radiating from him like a heat. She was younger and higher ranked then him when she came aboard and now learning she’d been promoted just over some incident she couldn’t tell him about. The anger was reasonable, at least from his own perspective.

“Field promotion, but it’s going to have to be ratified. I likely wouldn’t have gotten it for a few years yet it not for this stupid incident but apparently it’s four pips and up only.”

He didn’t say a word, just glared at her. She could feel jealousy welling up with that anger as well.

“I put in your paperwork for a promotion about an hour ago as well with my report to the Commodore. Told him he better make it happen or I’m coming to steal a pip off his collar for you.” She poured another shot, offered Mac one and this time he didn’t stop her. “I’m fucking serious about that Mac. We’ve been out here three months and you’ve gotten some kinks worked out. A promotion will get your career back on track and I want it that way.”

Mac stewed for a moment more, then consciously let the anger go. She could feel the tension easing as he picked up the ouzo shot and downed it in time with her despite his earlier hesitancy. “Fucking field promotions.” He studied the empty shot glass for a moment, then set it down. “I’ll pry the damn pips off the Commodore’s collar myself.”

“After I get mine you will,” Tikva added and was rewarded with a smile from her XO who stopped her from pouring any more ouzo.

“We start drinking and neither of is us going to be much good. I’ve still got the back half of a shift to do and you’ve got dinner waiting.”

Tikva smiled at that, then grabbed the topper and replaced it on the bottle before setting it on a small counter behind her desk, in clear view, right next to her picture of the Fantastic Four. She looked at that picture for a moment and smiled, the idea of telling them about a promotion, but without a reason why would drive them all mad.

“Right, right. Let’s blow this place,” she said, standing up, collecting both shot glasses and placing them in the replicator for recycling.

“Starkillers first,” Mac offered at the door and Tikva accepted, though gave her best scowl at him for the ‘Starkiller’ comment.

2000 HR
Four Forward

“Right you lot, settle down,” Matthew Williams said as he tried to corral the others seated at the table with him. Seven others, including himself, sat around the long table with him at the head of it.

The rules for this little meeting were simple enough – no ranks, no talk of work and no electronics of any sort, save for a single padd that was crippled save for the calculator on it just in case that was ever needed.

There was paper before everyone, pencils and erasers, dice of a variety of sorts and a clear wipe grid sheet for when he needed it. Little figurines were strewn around as well as it was everyone’s responsibility to replicate some and bring them forth.

“Before we get into the recap of last session, anyone seen the latest scans of the supernova?” he asked, specifically looking to the who science division folks in the gaming group, though everyone was distinctly out of uniform right now.

“Hey, don’t ask us, the bigwigs are all hoarding the data for themselves. Though Camargo said she’d make a simulation for some lectures in the holodeck in the next week or so.”

“Kinda scary though, don’t you think?” Jessica Chu asked. “We’ve got the kinda of power onboard to blow up stars.”

Wy’run Trel leaned forward. “Only the right kinda of stars. We had to ring that one just right and then push it over the edge to get it to go boom. Though with all the prep the last two days on anti-Borg measures, I bet this was all a weapons test after all. Figure out how we could blow up stars to kill Borg star systems.”

“Oh shut up Trel,” Hadley, one of the non-coms, spoke up. “That’s just straight up overkill. Besides, must be better ways to kill star systems.”

“Didn’t say star systems, I said Borg. Bet they can’t adapt to straight up stellar explosions of unfathomable power.”

Matthew raised both his hands to get everyone’s attention and kill the conversation before the session got derailed before it started. “Okay, okay, enough rumour milling. Let’s get started. Wy’run, give is a recap?”

“Sure. So, last session ended with our intrepid Captain Gavalore,” he said looking to Jessica with a smile, “getting secret orders from the King about a rare magic that had been discovered, something he could only entrust to Captains of the Guard. She wasn’t allowed to tell us anything about the quest, but had to capture this magic immediately before it ravaged the land or the …”

****

“You seem tense,” Adelinde said as she was cuddled up on a coach again with Tikva in Four Forward, watching stars streak by once more. In a few more hours there would be a planet there, hanging for all to see, others to visit if safe. But right now, it was just the infinite void and streaks of light as Atlantis violated classical physics rather casually.

“I can just hear the game those folks are playing,” she said, adjust a shoulder and then readjusting after Adelinde moved in response. “It’s kinda hitting close to what happened here.”

“Ah,” the larger woman said in response. “The secret orders, not telling the crew, not even being able to trust your senior staff with the secret.”

“I trust you all, but I was under orders.”

“Orders can be bent.”

“Not these ones.”

Tikva could feel a steady affection from Adelinde whenever she was around, but that last statement earned a wave of…respect? It was respect – for following orders even when one didn’t want to.

Yah, but she doesn’t know what provisions those orders had. Violate the Prime Directive if you need to. Start an interstellar war. Flat out kill someone if you had to.

Oh yah, that would have sucked. Luckily, we got Omega in the middle of nowhere.

Lucky us.

Wait, we could have started a war?

Shut up Stupid-Evil-Tikva, you’re late to the party.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, or ever can, I’m here for you love,” Adelinde said, nice and quiet like in her ear then nipped lightly at it, getting the response she wanted when Tikva squirmed under the innocent little assault.

“Gods do I wish I could. But the only day I’ll every be able to talk about it is when you get briefed on it by the Admiralty.”

“Oh, now that does sound intriguing,” Adelinde said. “Dinner, cuddle…holodeck for a spar or should I drag you to bed for another massage? Because you are still a little tense.”

“That a joke about my height?” Tikva snapped, turning to give her best pout.

“No, but maybe it should be.”

“Spar it is then. Going to kick your ass.”

2200 HR
Science Lab 2

“So?”

“So what?” Goresh asked back as they finished plugging in the portable scanning array into an isolated computer to read the data on it.

“Did it work? Did you scan the fake subspace flexure?”

Goresh turned to face the nosy human, Jacob Waterly, and glare at them. “I just plugged it in Jacob. Even you can’t be stupid to assume I’m prescient.”

“Geez, sorry. Just thought you might have some foresight, or have read a display on the array.”

The array in question wasn’t much bigger than a couple of padds put together side by side on the long edges, but was covered in a variety of sensors. They got used when doing intense survey work as they covered way more channels than your average tricorder, could resolve more minute detail and work quicker, which was important in large scale bio-sign surveys, or mineralogical scans.

But this one, cut off from the ship’s networks, had been posted in a window, looking outwards. Goresh had known where the ship was coming out of warp, where the flexure was supposed to be and therefore knew just which window to put the scanner to get reads that weren’t being tampered with by someone on the ship.

“Huh, that just looks like gibberish,” Jacob said aloud as he had come around to stand behind Goresh, looking at the data as it came through.

“Because it is gibberish,” Goresh said in anger. None of the data made sense. Energy curves were off the charts across EM, subspace and gravimetric spectrums. They didn’t confirm to anything they could think of, in actual existence or in theoretical physics.

“Pah!” Goresh said, slamming a fist down on the power button for the terminal. “Nothing! The array stopped recording after one-point seconds because of buffer overload.”

“Should have co-opted one of the ship’s sensors.”

“Would have been detected Jacob. Use your brain you idiot.”

“Okay then, what do you plan to do about this then?”

“Not much I can do, save for confront the Captain.”

“Yah, that’s probably not a good idea. Plan B?”

“Get drunk off that still you’ve been building.” Goresh saw Jacob’s shocked look, then returned a glare until Jacob broke.

“Okay, you caught me. I’ve only got a real rough gin at the moment though.”

“Human spirits? Then I’m going to need a lot.”

Contact with Sphere 85426 has been lost. Sphere was investigating long range detection of particle 010. Federation starship, Argonaut-class was reported as in area.

Subspace anomaly detected via Telescope SS-4217 in grid 3456A. A sub-detonation stellar remnant has gone supernova. Remnant was classified as safe from detonation. Dispatch multiple vessels to edge of lightcone. Event must be analysed with available light-speed data in order to reconstruct events.

Fourteen vessels have been dispatched. Arrival in five hours.

…

Vessels have intercepted lightspeed signals. Interferometric analysis has concluded that Federation starship is responsible for supernova. Methods unknown. Information lost in supernova. Resolution not sufficient to deduce method.

Particle 010 signal has been lost. Analysis concludes destroyed in supernova.

Federation starship identified as USS Atlantis.

Assimilation of vessel to be attempted by any vessel if opportunity presents itself to understand Starfleet stellar detonation technology.

Dispatching scout vessel to locate Federation starship.