“…time was I’d be in command of this little group,” Commander Anthony Dean muttered with a heavy sigh as he followed his first officer into the transporter room. He gave a curt nod to the Ensign on duty, tugging on his uniform sleeves as he stopped a short distance away from the transporter platform. “You say the wrong thing to the wrong person and suddenly you’ve created a diplomatic incident and everybody is after your head.”

With a distinct hint of amusement in her eyes, Lieutenant Commander Kayla Desai-Scott allowed him the moment to vent. His demotion was a difficult subject and in truth he had not quite accepted it, almost a full month later. “For now we have more pressing concerns. And, perhaps, next time it would be advisable not to insinuate the Ambassador’s wife resembled a -“

A chirp from the transport console interrupted her. “We are ready for transport, Sir,” Ensign Javid informed Dean.

”On time, good, good,” Dean said gruffly before nodding over his shoulder. “Energise.”

Engulfed in several tones of blue as two energy patterns began to materialise on the pad, the small transporter room swiftly gained two newcomers. Standing on the pad in two distinctively different uniforms to their counterparts from the Rhode Island, the two officers from the Santa Fe exchanged glances before the lead officer took a step down from the pad.

”Captain Tharia sh’Elas,” she offered a hand in greeting to the senior most official from the host vessel.

”Commander Anthony Dean, welcome aboard. This is my first officer, Lt.Commander Kayla Desai-Scott,” Dean replied, giving a brief shake of sh’Elas’ hand before gesturing to his second in command.

”Captain,” Desai-Scott offered with a brief nod. “Welcome to the Rhode Island.”

Tharia exchanged pleasantries with the Commander before stepping aside and nodding to her colleague from the Ulysses. “This is Lieutenant Dante Rawlings, my Chief Flight Operations Officer and Second Officer.”

”Lieutenant. Well…If you will follow me,” Dean said as he gestured towards the exit, “we can discuss the current situation in the briefing room. Needless to say, we stand by to offer any assistance we can.”

”Thank you Commander,” Tharia nodded as she followed the Rhode Island’s commanding officer into the corridor, a brief look behind to her Second Officer to ensure he was following.

Following the two commanders out into the corridor, Kayla glanced at Lieutenant Rawlings. “Nice uniform,” she commented quietly as the group approached the turbolift. “I have to admit though, there are days when I do miss wearing my old science blue.”

Dante looked at the woman, and offered a slight smile, “Blue is the only uniform I have never had any desire to wear,” he replied with a wider, cheeky grin. “It might impact my ability to progress further, but at this point in my career I think that is perfectly fine with me.”

”I get that,” Kayla nodded slowly, well aware that science wasn’t for everyone.

When the turbolift doors opened she waited for their respective commanding officers to enter before gesturing for Dante to go first. “Please…”

As she entered, she said a silent prayer that all of the swearing in Russian she had heard from the Chief Engineer this morning meant that the short trip in the turbolift would be uneventful. Especially given they had been offline for almost a full day until an hour ago. “Deck 1,” she ordered as the doors began to close.

”Personally,” Tharia spoke up once the lift was moving, “I find these uniforms to be incredibly comfortable,” she smiled as she tugged gently on the hem of her new uniform.

”Well, the RI isn’t due back at a starbase for a week or so yet,” Dean commented, “so we haven’t had the pleasure. Captain, about the other matter… I haven’t had the opportunity to brief my crew. I will do so immediately after our briefing, if you will allow me the liberty of breaking the news.”

He didn’t miss the confused expression of his first officer, “All in good time, Number One.”

Kayla frowned, but quickly recovered as the doors opened and she led their guests to the briefing room. “Before we begin, can I get anyone a drink?”

”I’ll have a lemon lime water please,” the Andorian requested, to the surprise of those in the room, but she had always had a taste for the fizzy Earth beverage.

”Not a problem. Lieutenant?”

Dante simply held a hand up to dismiss the offer, “No thank you, ma’am.”

Kayla grinned, now I feel old … Fetching the commander’s order, she set it down before taking her customary place to Dean’s right-hand side. For his part, he straightened, clearly asserting his authority within the walls of his ship as he activated a holographic display which materialised over the centre of the table.

”The reason we are all here,” he said simply. “Despite all of the positives of late, we’re still receiving dozens of reports about outlying colonies that wish to withdraw their membership. Here, alone, we’ve seen dozens of protests in the last two days. Starfleet Security want us to render any assistance we can to ensure the safety and security of the planet, but we are to remain politically neutral.”

”What can you tell us from your analysis so far?” Tharia queried, looking more at the Rhode Island’s XO than the ship’s Captain. If this Desai-Scott woman was to join her crew, she wanted to know her view on things.

”Honestly? It’s on a knife edge. Political opinion swings both ways right now. If they had an election, it would be too tough to call,” Desai-Scott explained, as the holographic image shifted. “Security on the planet have so far resisted our overtures, with rumours abound that they don’t want us anywhere near the planet for just that reason. The mood may be shifting against the Federation more than we anticipate.”

”Naturally, we’d like all materials and data sent to us so we can evaluate them,” Tharia told the Commander of the Rhode Island without so much as a second thought. If it came across that she didn’t trust his people, that was OK to her. The only people she would trust in this investigation was her own, and that included the woman that was supposed to take over from her as XO of the Santa Fe. “We’ll make contact with the surface as well, let them know we are here to fly the flag and represent the very best of the Federation.”

”See to it, Number One,” Dean instructed. “And make sure anyone else has anything needed.”

Kayla nodded. “Aye sir. Is there anything else you need from us right now, Captain?” she asked their guest, not surprised at all by the woman’s earlier request. She was, after all, now responsible for getting the answers that Starfleet were expecting.

Tharia nodded her head slightly. “We’ll set up a database link so that all data we find and use on either vessel is stored in a central location and is accessible from both ships. I don’t want anyone to be hampered by having to request access simply because they aren’t on the right ship at the right time,” the Andorian told as she looked at Dean. “I expect regular updates too. Even if there is nothing to report, I want to know. Personnel should also have free access to beam between vessels as required to aide the situation,” she finally concluded.

”Agreed,” Dean nodded as he stood, “if that is everything, I will deal with the other matter, Commander.”

”No, that will be all,” Tharia remarked as she rose to her feet and looked at Dante as if to say ‘time to go’.

Kayla stood, Dean following suit. “I’ll show you back to the transporter room,” she offered.

”Don’t worry Commander,” the CO of the Santa Fe smiled as she held a hand up in protest, “we can find our own way.” With that in mind, the Andorian led her second officer out of the briefing room.

As the room emptied, Kayla turned her gaze to her own commanding officer. “Other matter?” she prompted, sitting down, and turning to face him. She had an inkling that she was not going to be thrilled given the way he shifted in his seat. Or perhaps it was the other way around. She knew his tells; she knew his growing list of somewhat questionable habits. And she knew when he was uncomfortable.

”What other matter would that be?”

”New orders,” Dean sighed as he leaned forward, pointing towards the door where sh’Elas had just exited. “You just met your new commanding officer. Commodore Farrell’s orders. Effective immediately. Congratulations. Don’t screw it up.”

[Sometime later…]

Captain sh’Elas hadn’t long been back aboard the Ulysses when she had received word that the new Executive Officer would shortly beam aboard. The Andorian had swiftly made her way to the transporter room, where she now paced the floor between the transporter pad and the control console. Why she was nervous, she didn’t know – perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she had no idea who this woman really was, or how she would feel about being transferred at the last minute.

She was about to find out.

”We’re receiving confirmation now, ma’am,” the transporter chief revealed at last, drawing the Andorian’s attention to the pad before her.

Standing still, she took a sharp intake of breath before nodding her permission to the Chief.

Materialising a moment later, Lieutenant Commander Desai-Scott found herself once again face to face with the Andorian woman who was now her commanding officer. In truth, she had not expected a welcome party – albeit of one. The entire situation was quite frankly unorthodox.

From her experience, you did not have Admirals arbitrarily deciding who a ship’s first officer would be. Typically it was at the discretion of the ship’s commanding officer. Within reason, of course. Yet the woman did not strike Kayla as someone to make such a choice without serious consideration.

Adjusting her grip on the kit bag and small box she carried, she took a deep breath, offered her brightest smile and stepped forward. “Lieutenant Commander Kayla Desai-Scott, reporting for duty, Captain” she said, simultaneously rescuing a PADD from inside the box and handing it over.

”Welcome to the Santa Fe, Commander,” taking ownership of the data PADD, the Captain passed it straight to the transporter chief without so much as a hint of interest. Instead, she stepped forward and rescued the box from the Commander’s person and gestured to the door, hoping to come across as helpful, even if she wasn’t thrilled at the newcomers presence on her ship.

Kayla raised an eyebrow slightly in response, entirely unsure if the lack of interest in her orders was down to her being familiar with them and her service history or just annoyance at having a stranger be assigned as XO. While she was perfectly capable of carrying her own belongings, she allowed the commander of the ship to help, deciding there would be things worth fighting over and this was not one of them. So instead of taking it back she simply smiled, thanked the woman and headed for the door.

“I appreciate this is not an ideal situation, ma’am,” Kayla said as they entered the corridor. There was no point in avoiding the subject, she was certain it would not go away.

”It’s not, no. But I don’t want you to think that I harbour any grudge against you, Commander. I am certain you will do an excellent job,” the Andorian lied, since she had no frame of reference at all for the woman’s ability, “it’s just, CO’s usually like a choice in who they appoint to their command team.”

“The Admiral can be… difficult at times,” Kayla replied after a moment. “and I understand this is not ideal. All I ask, Captain, is that you keep an open mind? I, too, had no say in this. Or – indeed – warning. But I can absolutely promise you that I will do my best for this ship and crew.”

She was considering calling out the fact she suspected the other woman was not being entirely honest with her, yet she could not be sure of that fact. Not yet. And not to mention she had known of the assignment when she came aboard the Rhode Island….

Before she could raise the subject, an unfamiliar voice filtered through the comm system, “=/\= Bridge to Captain sh’Elas.“

Stopping in their tracks, the Andorian captain reached up and tapped her commbadge. “=/\=sh’Elas here, go ahead bridge.”

”=/\=Ensign Caplan here, ma’am. We’ve received a transmission from Commodore Farrell,” the relief Science Officer informed over the comm.

”=/\=We’re on our way. Send out an alert for all senior staff to report to the bridge,” the Andorian instructed as she shared glances with the new XO. She was about to tap her commbadge off when she remembered something else. “Oh, and Ensign, enter Commander Desai-Scott’s arrival into the ship’s log. List her as the new executive officer.”

”=/\=Yes Captain. Bridge out.”

Reaching the nearest turbolift, Desai-Scott touched the button to summon it, the doors sliding open just seconds later. She slipped inside, the ship’s mistress close behind. At her order the doors closed, carrying them up to the Bridge.

Standing to the left of the turbo lift, the Captain turned her body to look at her new right hand. “I will treat this with an open mind, Commander, you have my word. And you, too, must do the same. I am not Commander Dean; I do things very differently I am sure,” she smiled the best smile she could muster.

”To be perfectly honest with you,” Kayla retorted, “that can only be a good thing.”

Tharia let out a genuine smile for the first time, appreciating the Commander’s honesty regarding her previous commanding officer. Perhaps there was hope for this pairing after all?

Silence had engulfed the bridge of the Santa Fe once the command staff had been summoned to the control center of the ship, with everyone arriving a matter of minutes after the call had gone out. That had been some twenty minutes ago now, and the senior staff, especially those without duties on the bridge, were getting restless.

Commander Zinn sat on the chair at the aft medical station and, instead of monitoring the ship for life threatening illnesses, he stared at the roof of the bridge and spun on the seats axis like a child waiting to be told off. Lieutenant Chiera had tried shooting him ‘the evil’ on more than one occasion, but the Deltan was seemingly oblivious to her silent scolding.

Dante had taken over the command chair, and even he was looking somewhat anxious. The tapping of the feet was more than enough of a give away. Thankfully, they had to wait no longer.

Emerging from her ready room with the presumptive XO in tow, Captain sh’Elas took a few steps onto the bridge and came to a halt, her antennae betraying her feelings.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” Zinn remarked as he stepped forward and leant on the tactical rail.

“We’ve got a situation developing,” the Captain remarked, “and Starfleet wants us to investigate.”

Zinn frowned as he folded his arms across his chest in defiance. “I’ve got a VERY bad feeling about this…”

[Main Engineering, Four Hours Later…]

An incident had happened aboard the Starship Thesis, and the Santa Fe was to investigate.

Lieutenant Commander Kayla Desai-Scott stood in the middle of the ship’s engine room, shifting from foot to foot as she read through the newly released, classified report regarding the MARS system that was apparently the cause of the situation with the Thesis. Together with the crew of the Santa Fe, the new XO had been taking the time to read about the tests taking place aboard the Inquiry-class starship. The Thesis’ chief engineer had apparently figured out how to adapt the new defensive system to the Inquiry-class space frame, drawing much of its energy from the ship’s new warp core. There was, however, a small glitch that left it detectable, albeit, when they got close to another ship.

All in all, the defensive system should have been just as impressive as it seemed. Developed by scientists and engineers at the Sathea IV Science Station, the Multi Adaptive Refractive Shielding system (or MARS system for short) was a combination of technologies and research obtained from the logs of the starship Voyager upon its return from the Delta Quadrant in the late 2370’s.

Multi-adaptive shielding was a deflector shield stealth technology developed by Erin and Magnus Hansen in 2353, for use in keeping their vessel, the USS Raven, virtually invisible to Borg sensors during their field study of the Collective. In 2375, the crew of the USS Voyager incorporated multi-adaptive shielding into the systems of the Delta Flyer, to facilitate a rescue mission for the Hansens’ daughter, now known as Seven of Nine, who was being held captive by the Borg Queen in the Unicomplex. Although the shielding was initially successful in concealing the Flyer’s presence, a work around was established by the Borg which, until now, had rendered the technology a risky development. Further research obtained from Voyager related to refractive shielding, a deflector shield stealth technology used by the Devore Imperium of the Delta Quadrant, which allowed a vessel to remain invisible to conventional sensors unless they were specifically adapted to detect such a technology.

The MARS system was the brainchild of Professor Rikia Mariwat, a Bolian scientist, and her counterpart from the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, Dayo Ekaan. Initially proposed as far back as the early 2380’s, the system was put on the back burner due to R&D efforts elsewhere. Following the failed evacuation of Romulan space, and the change in focus for Starfleet, the team on Sathea IV were given permission to move forward with their proposal in the mid-2390’s as Starfleet looked at new ways of defending itself. Crucially, as an adaptation of two known shielding systems, Starfleet ruled that the technology would not constitute a cloaking device and would instead fall under the realms of other stealth technologies, thus not breaking the centuries old Treaty of Algernon.

For close to a year, the team conducted trial after trial on the holodecks of their labs. They tested every conceivable variable in their search for problems with their design. With each modification they made, reliability in the simulations increased. In the final simulation prior to field testing, the MARS technology would prove to be effective a whopping 89% of the time, which flukes such as spatial phenomenon, nebula gases and the like resulting in some form of detection for the system. With permission for field tests granted, Starfleet assigned the Inquiry-class USS Thesis to be the testbed. One of the most powerful ships in the fleet, the new class was supposed to be the best platform to test the technology on. Initial tests had proved promising, but issues quickly started to put paid to the live tests. Then, of course, there had been the debacle at Sathea during the Century Storm. Something had gone wrong, so wrong that the Santa Fe’s somewhat antiquated sensor suite had been able to detect the Thesis, and so too, presumably, did the Klingon aggressors.

Now, several weeks later and with further tests under her belt, something else had gone wrong, and it was up to the Santa Fe to come to her rescue. Again.

“A very impressive system, if you can get it to work. But I’ve reviewed some of these calculations and run my own simulations with the data provided. The system should be working,” Lieutenant Udal frowned as he tossed his data PADD onto the pool table in the center of the gathering, folding his green skinned arms across his chest.

“The systems have worked to an extent,” the Cardassian Ops officer sighed, rubbing her temple, “Something on that ship is playing havoc with the systems. Something we don’t have access to.”

”We all have a simple mission here,” Lieutenant Noli Auru spoke up as she noticed the more technically gifted among them getting somewhat frustrated. She took a few steps away from them and placed her hands on the railing around the ship’s warp core and main defensive console displays. Then, with her arms folded, she turned and looked at the motley crew. “We need to figure out the issue that made the Thesis detectable to the Santa Fe sensors, right? Why don’t we try installing this system on the Santa Fe and try troubleshooting it that way?”

Kayla shook her head slowly, “Our ship is considerably older in design and construction. Her systems would never…”

“On paper it should work,” Lieutenant Rawlings butted in, his hands placed on the table top and looking across at the Bajoran tactician, “Although both have different hull configurations and power consumption systems, I’ve not read anything in the reports that suggests we couldn’t, with some tweaks, try and get the system working here. Actually working with the system first hand would be better than trying to theorise and speculate,” the Flight Controller told, looking at the XO hopefully.

“Before we go to such drastic measures, is there any chance it could it be a coding problem within the software?” Desai-Scott asked.

”I actually think the issue is somewhere in the defensive grid,” Lieutenant Prida frowned as she tapped on the display between them all.

Udal started tapping his PADD and began running some correlation algorithms on a theory, an epiphany, he had suddenly had and synced the data analysis he had with the pool table. 

Commander Desai-Scott looked over the shoulder of her colleague with great interest. “What’ya doing there, Lieutenant?” she queried, drawing the attention of the more senior members of the group.

”Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn.” He said, mostly to the XO, who was the most senior officer in the group. “I was running some correlation algorithms. If the multi-adaptive shielding is fluctuating while the rest of the defensive grid is functioning, depending on the power draw the systems require, specific areas of the ship may become unprotected and exposed. It was very random, but if something else was activated that uses a fair amount of power draw on a single system, let’s say a replicator, that little area of the ship may be over taxed for the moments it is active and then after it is done, restores enough power to allow invisibility again. Just a hypothesis at the moment.” Udal said, feeling his green skin become somewhat flushed and darker. “I might be wrong. I just started the calculations.”

”May I?” Lieutenant Prida asked as she held out her hand, but in a tone that suggested it was meant as nothing more than a helping hand.

Udal handed over his PADD. “It’s a thought. Might explain why I could not get a pattern for when we would be able to detect a signal and why it was usually a different source each time.”

Noli had continued to listen to the others, and as she clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on the heels of her boots, she pondered her own response. “If the root cause is possible power fluctuations in the defensive grid, what about a power flow restrictor that meters the power into the unit. Constant power supply at a constant rate. We’ve used it to stabilize weaponry before.”

”That’s possible. We would also need to install some protocols for the computer to regulate the the power priority so power levels do not drop below a specific threshold and disables systems that will draw it below. We may have to guess a little on what the exact threshold is,” Udal replied, trying to think of other solutions.

“Blue alert.”

All eyes around the table turned and glared at the Flight Controller.

“You’re all suggesting something that blue alert does automatically,” he shrugged. Seeing a confused expression on some faces, he reached out and began tapping on the pool table. “On all starships with atmospheric landing capability, such as the Intrepid, blue alert is called to signal the ships preparation for landing. In doing so, all unnecessary systems are taken offline, power consumption is diverted to the required systems and the safe landing of the ship becomes the sole focus of everyone aboard,” he informed them.

“So, if we adapted a similar alert mode that controlled the power consumption of key systems automatically, it might cut out the issues with the power regulation…” Desai-Scott seemed to be following the Lieutenant’s line of thought.

“…and stop any other systems from even functioning enough to draw any power to them.” Prida nodded slowly.

“Respectfully,” finally, the Chief Science Officer spoke up, her grey, mottled skin sweating as she felt the pressure of speaking out in such a gathering, “I don’t think this is the only problem we face. We’ve got to balance several key systems to get this system to work, and power flow is but one issue; we need the multi-adaptive shielding constantly linked to sensors, whilst also ensuring that the refractive shielding, which requires constant re-modulations, are tied in to the main deflector. It’s a massive job!” Kedam exclaimed.

Prida thought for a moment. “Could we hardwire a parallel data line from the deflector and sensors to the auxiliary computer core, and lace each with a number of the new bio-neural gel packs?”

There was a soft chime. “Preliminary calculations are done,” Udal said sheepishly. “This could definitely solve some of the problem, but I think the only way to know for certain is to install the system here, or locate the Thesis and try out the fix there,” he smiled as he looked down at his data PADD.

Kayla noticed the expression on the Orion’s face. “What are the results, Chief?”

”There was an 85% correlation to the random moments of visibility to these specific high powered systems. The replicator was one of those systems and they were over taxed momentarily. Good news is that is the bulk of it. The bad news is there is still 15% of the loss of cloak that was not accounted for and we are already going to be taxing the power systems,” Udal said as he looked up said and scratched his head.

Kayla smirked and shook her head slowly. “It’s a stealth mode, but we’ve still got people replicating coffee and breakfast!”

”I am NOT telling people they can’t replicate their coffee,” Noli responded quickly, holding her hands up in front of her. “I already annoy people with drills and security checks. I’m not telling them they can’t have their morning beverage.”

Udal looked around at the collars in the room. It was a suicide mission for sure, but as he was the second lowest ranking officer of the group and one of the proposers, he felt an obligation. “Looks like it will be my head on the platter. I’ll break the hearts of many and tell everyone it’s rations of instant coffee during stealth mode,” Udal felt his own brain stab him for that comment.

”Good luck telling the Captain…” Dante jibed with a playful grin.

“In all seriousness, Commander, what do you think?” Chief Engineer Udal looked at the XO. “Think it is something worth exploring? Worth suggesting to the Captain?”

“Powering down all nonessential systems may be the only answer along with the other ideas we’ve discussed. Perhaps having our cake, or in this case coffee, and drinking it. It’s definitely worth a try,” Kayla replied. ”Why don’t we split into teams then and get this sorted?” she suggested. “Noli, Dante. I’ll work with you both to create this new stealth mode we need, whilst the rest of you work on installing the necessary systems.”

”Sounds like a plan to me,” Dante replied cheerfully.

Kayla nodded slowly. “Now all I’ve got to do is convince the Captain that we are right…”

Encryption protocols active. You may begin recording.

“Captain’s log, supplemental.

 

We’ve received new orders from Starfleet Command that put us on a collision course with our immediate past. A relief mission that threatens to open old wounds. Just what the Doctor didn’t order after the devastating loss of our colleague. If I was still the executive, I’d have told Sebastian not to accept the orders; told him to tell Starfleet where to stick them. But I don’t have that luxury now that I am the Captain. Instead, we must warp towards the cesspit of Freecloud, in search of the Thesis.

 

I’ve been granted access to all materials pertaining to the MARS project, and I have disseminated them among the senior staff. Only those crucial to the mission will be shown the true nature of what the Thesis is working on, with yet another lie told to the crew. We lied to them at Sathea; we told them that the storm had played havoc with our sensors and led to us not detecting the Thesis. Anyone privy to the real state of affairs has been sworn, under the strictest of orders, to secrecy. Now, we face having to lie to them again. Only this time, I’m the one who has to come up with the lie…”

[Bridge, 1900 Hours. USS Santa Fe on approach to Freecloud]

Silence had once again gripped the bridge of the Santa Fe. That seemed to be the new dynamic under the command of the Andorian, and it was a stark contrast to the ship’s atmosphere under the reign of Captain Farrell. It wasn’t that the crew were scared of sh’Elas or anything, quite the opposite. There was a distinct air of respect for the Captain which had only grown since their exploits at Sathea and her subsequent promotion. She had stepped out of the shadows of her predecessor and was becoming a captain in her own right. Part of that process was developing her own command style and new relationships with her crew, a crew that had previously seen her as an executive officer – an enforcer of someone’s will. Now, it was her will that was to be enforced and she was still struggling with that thought, the thought of ‘What would Sebastian do?’

Pacing the bridge of the Santa Fe whilst she wrestled with her most recent decision, the Andorian was in danger of wearing a hole in the grey carpeting. It was a pretty big decision to wrestle with, too. Upon the advice of her executive, she had given the crew the permission to proceed with their plan and, at this very moment, engineers, scientists and operations officers alike were installing the necessary components for their testing, whilst the XO, Dante and the Tactical Chief were working on developing the Santa Fe’s very own version of Blue Alert. It was a questionable decision. It was something that command would probably have something to say about, but it was something she would defend. She had very little time to dwell on it as they approached their destination.

Freecloud; an inhabited planet in the Alpha Doradus system that contained a number of urban areas, including the infamous Stardust City, and hosted such a diverse population that it almost made the Federation Council look positively xenophobic. Spacecraft approaching Freecloud were subjected to aggressive, personalized holographic advertisements projected inside said craft. Dismissal of the advertisements required physical interaction with the holograms. Space traffic was handled by Freecloud Orbital Control. A mecca for businesses of all kinds due to its maximum-security commercial and information services, Freecloud was also a nightmare for authorities. It was a place that Starfleet officers did not openly travel to, and a place where the Captain dreaded to venture. The presence of a Federation starship in orbit, even one as old as the Santa Fe, would attract attention from all the wrong kinds of people. Freecloud was also the last known sighting of the Thesis.

Ever since she had ordered the Santa Fe to the last location of the Thesis, the ship had been running continual scans for any sign of the ship, but there had been no joy as of yet. There had been nothing as of yet. No indication the ship even existed, let alone that it had been in the area. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had been there at Sathea, Tharia might have been forgiven for thinking the ship had never existed. But, here they were; travelling at warp six towards the cesspit of Freecloud.

“Captain?”

Tharia shook her head clear as the voice permeated her thoughts, snapping her head in the direction of its owner. “Hmm?” she asked, raised eyebrows and upright antennae a signal she had been taken by surprise.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Counsellor Chiera enquired from the executive officer’s seat at the heart of the bridge. The only other senior officer present in the command center, the woman had been watching her new Captain with an abundance of caution. She seemed preoccupied, worried… even lost? And that was never a positive sign in a commanding officer. It was something she had never seen from the always confident Sebastian, but was becoming more prevalent in the Andorian. ‘Perhaps she just isn’t meant to be in the big chair?’ she thought. Lucky for her, the Andorian was not a telepath or she would have been rumbled.

“Fine, Counsellor,” the Andorian lied as her antennae dropped. “Thank you,” she added swiftly, with a smile of reassurance for her troubles.

Rising to her feet, the Betazoid took a few steps until she was stood beside the Andorian and watched the viewscreen. “It’s alright to be worried, to have questions. Nobody pretends command is easy, ma’am,” the Counsellor smiled.

“I never expected command to be easy…” Tharia remarked quietly, turning away and heading into the sanctity of the ready room. Once inside, with the doors shut, the Captain let out a sigh and leant against the bulkhead, her white locks resting on the wall behind her head.

“…I just expected to be fit for it.”

Alone among a sea of junior officers, Counsellor Vittoria Chiera had assumed command of the Santa Fe upon the Captain’s withdrawal to her ready room just over an hour before. In the intervening time, absolutely nothing had happened. Nothing. Not so much as a speck of space dust in the wrong place. This was, perhaps, the most boring part of being in command when you were so far down the food chain; by the time command got to you, either everyone else was dead, or so busy with nothing happening that they felt they could leave you in command. Thankfully, it was the latter in this case. Everyone else was off doing their own thing in reference to the ship’s mission, so she was the only senior officer left to take over the bridge in the commanding officer’s absence.

She’d had a lot of time to debate with herself the merits of disclosing her growing angst at the captain’s state of mind moving forward, opting at one point to very nearly call the XO and question the poor Andorian’s mental state. But she had thought better of it. The Captain had, after all, gone through a lot in recent times, so surely she could be forgiven for a few remarks and an abundance of caution. Right? Or was that a dereliction of her duty as Counsellor and advisor on all matters mental health related?

She had allowed her mind to wander again, when she was pulled to the present by a beeping from a forward station.

“Approaching Freecloud, Lieutenant,” the junior officer at Flight Operations called out, glancing back at the Counsellor briefly.

Shooting a look at the viewscreen, the Betazoid nodded slowly and reached down to the controls on the arm of the chair she had inherited, albeit briefly. “Captain to the bridge. We are approaching Freecloud,” she called across the open comm.

It took a few moments, but Tharia eventually emerged from the ready room, taking a few steps across the bridge until she was once again stood beside the Betazoid. “Take us out of warp when ready,” the Andorian instructed, before tapping the Counsellor on her shoulder and nodding her head back towards the command chairs at the center of the bridge. Together, they returned to their seats. Tapping her commbadge, the Captain called for her senior staff to return to the bridge.

Within minutes, the entire staff on the bridge had taken a different look with the more familiar faces back in their rightful seats. A deep breath in and a reassuring smile to the XO beside her, the Captain finally looked like someone relishing the idea of stepping into the crucible of command. Sat at the heart of the bridge, hands clasped together in her lap, she looked towards the forward stations. “Okay,” she eventually spoke, “whilst you were all at work elsewhere, I’ve been in contact with Starfleet Intelligence. According to their latest updates, they have a contact on Freecloud that can fill in some missing pieces of our puzzle. So, Lieutenant Prida, commence sensor sweeps for the Thesis. Noli, Dante; get looking for a shuttle matching the signature in the file I have shared with you. I want to get them aboard at the earliest opportunity.”

”I’m detecting a lot of traffic in the area, it might slow down our search,” Dante reported from the conn as his fingers started to dance away with glee.

Pushing into action, Prida sat at her station tapping her mottled fingers to a furious, focused melody. “Reconfiguring sensors to conduct a multiphasic sweep, overlapping scans with all previous data regarding the Thesis,” the Operations Chief announced to the bridge in general.

Working in coordination with the Flight Controller, the Bajoran at Tactical swept her fingers across the controls at her disposal. “We should be able to find the signal through the noise and get a sense of where they’ve been and where they’re going. In the meantime, shields and weapons are on standby Captain,” Noli informed. Tharia gave a simple nod, appreciative of the Bajoran’s cautious approach.

“You don’t think the Thesis could still be in the area, do you?” Kayla enquired, looking to her left at the Captain. “It’s been hours since she was last seen near here.”

“You weren’t with us the last time we dealt with this ship,” the Andorian told, her voice carrying an air of matter of factness, “she came out of surprise then, and if they are having the same issues now, anything is possible…”

[Some distance away…]

With his counterpart having been shot during their escape, and laying in the aft chair of the small vessels command compartment, a bloody mess of a Terran was getting a crash course in learning how to pilot the unknown alien craft. The controls were far from usual, and it was proving difficult to keep the ship stable. Of course, the weapons fire from the Orion Interceptor giving chase probably wasn’t helping.Another hit on the port shields sent sparks flying into the cockpit of the shuttle, with alarm bells calling out to the Terran pilot. “Systems failing,” the masculine voice of the computer declared as the Lieutenant did his best to remedy the situation. Another declaration from the machine did little to appease him. “Second vessel detected on intercept course.”Through the distorted sensor readings, the only thing the Lieutenant could make out was that he was now sandwiched between the Interceptor and a much larger vessel. “Computer!” he yelled, “send out a distress call on all frequencies.””Long range transmitter offline,” the male voice barked back.”Then send it via short range and lets hope those in front are less hostile than those behind,” he ordered sternly, gripping the console as the ship took another hit from the Interceptor. If he didn’t get help soon, they were done for.

[Bridge, USS Santa Fe]

Someone had once told her, do not believe in coincidences. And yet, in this exact moment, Commander Desai-Scott was inclined to do so. From her position on the Bridge she called up a visual image of a nearby shuttle, or something which resembled a shuttle. Heading directly for them and taking heavy fire.

Either someone out there was having a very bad day and had decided to throw themselves at Starfleet’s door or…

”Lieutenant Rawlings, is it our people?” Kayla called towards the conn.

In spite of his best efforts, Dante’s manipulations of the sensors seemed sluggish, glitchy as he attempted to get a solid reading – and quick. With a short, annoyed exhale, the Chief of Flight Operations looked to the view screen and said, “On a hunch? Probably,” he replied, trying to sound cool, “but the biosignatures I’m picking up are scrambled worse than eggs right now – all I can tell you is we’ve got two highly distressed humanoids aboard that shuttle.”

”Sensors are detecting weapons fire,” the blonde Bajoran declared from the tactical station, her hands dancing across the controls as she tried to ascertain more details for the Captain. “Two Orion interceptors approximately a thousand kilometers from the shuttle and closing.”

sh’Elas, however, had heard enough, and reached down to the controls on the arm of her chair. “Red alert,” she beckoned sternly before opening a comm channel. “Bridge to Transporter Room One. Standby to receive coordinates for transport,” she declared without waiting for a response, turning to the aft medical station. “Doctor,” she spoke, a look of focus and intensity, the single word serving as her order for the Chief Medical Officer to leave the bridge and head for the transporter room.

Zinn didn’t need to wait for the Captain to instruct him; he was already out of his chair and headed for the exit. He didn’t give a verbal reply as he strode towards the turbolift and barked his destination order.

”Closing the distance to them, hang on,” Rawlings said, “Let’s see what this baby can do,” he added as he pushed the sublight engines to full impulse and threw the ship into combat manoeuvres, avoiding the larger nearby ships and relying on ‘if it’s bigger than you get out of it’s way’ for the smaller ones. “Closing on the target, 20 seconds.” He said.

”Noli, open hailing frequencies,” the Captain ordered of her Tactical Officer. She wanted to speak with the shuttles assailants and hoped to reason with them, in the best traditions of Starfleet. Once the nod came from the Bajoran, the Andorian stepped up. “Orion vessels; this is the Federation starship Santa Fe. You are firing on two Starfleet officers. Stand down, or we will open fire,” the Andorian advised. And waited.

”No response and they continue to fire,” the Bajoran growled, her trigger finger getting rather twitchy.

“Orion vessels; this is your final warning,” Tharia told more sternly, “stand down.”

Failing to acquiesce to the Captain’s request, the Interceptors turned their attention to the Starfleet vessel, breaking off their attack on the shuttle and training their disruptors on the giant vessel that glided towards them. The impacts on the shields were light, the ship hardly registering their hits as the Captain stood in the centre of the bridge and smirked. Was that the best they had?

”Okay Lieutenant,” she called out to the Tactical Officer, “target their weapons systems and fire.”

Nodding dutifully, the Bajoran did as instructed and targeted the weapons systems of her targets, without remorse and without concern. Three bursts of phaser fire and a couple of photons from the dorsal torpedo pods later and they had achieved the desired effect. “They’re bugging out, Captain.”

”Excellent,” sh’Elas smiled as she walked back to her command chair and resumed her seat. “Lower shields and have the transporter room lock on to the shuttles crew. Take us out of the spacelanes and position us at the edge of the system, Lieutenant.”

“Transporter Room to Bridge. Transport complete. Two individuals have been transported to sickbay.”There was a sigh of great relief from the Captain as she nodded slowly and gave the go ahead to the helm.

“Aye Ma’am, adjusting course,” Dante retorted from the CONN.

With the shuttles occupants now aboard safely, and the Orion’s hot footing it out of the Freecloud system, the Santa Fe crew could, once again, go about their search for the Thesis. Hopefully, they would find her in time.

[Somewhere in the Beta Quadrant…]

Thesis streaked out of normal space and into the starscape, travelling at their maximum speed possible with the technological issues they were having. Travelling at such speeds was often bumpy as the ship’s systems sometimes struggled under the extreme speeds the propulsion systems generated, but the shaking that came shortly after their jump to warp this time was worrying.

Captain Italia Ruas gripped the arms of her chair tightly whilst the ship rumbled beneath her feet, a look of sheer concern on her face as she looked around the command center. “Report!”

”Structural integrity systems failing,” Lieutenant Mora declared as the Inquiry-class ship lurched to one side.

”Somethings wrong with the warp drive. Activating failsafe to drop us out,” Ensign th’Zorati reported from the conn. “Failsafe is not engaging. I can’t take us out.”

Smashing the controls on her armrest, the Captain called down to Engineering. “Engineering! We need to shut down warp drive before we disappear into the unknown!”

From the bowels of the ship, an equally agitated voice filled the bridge. “Engineering here. We blew an EPS conduit. We should be ok but I’ll take us out of…” an explosion came over the comm system and then silence as the com failed. The lights flickered and the ship bumped in time with the explosion.

“Engineering?” the Captain called down to the lower decks again. When there was silence she tapped the arm of her chair again. “Engineering, please respond!” Nothing. If engineering couldn’t rip the ship out of warp, then there was no telling where they might end up.

”Warp drive controls are not functioning, and I can not engage the failsafe. Attempting to manually collapse the warp field,” th’Zorati reported, her heart was pounding as she tried to regain some control over the ship. “The helm is no longer responding ma’am. we do not have control…”

“Computer!” the Captain called over the dinn, “Transmit a distress call to the last confirmed location of the Santa Fe. Relay our position and status…” the Trill commander of the ship ordered. Hopefully, Santa Fe would reach them before they crossed into dangerous territory.

The Briar Patch was not a place they wanted to crash out of warp…

A dark blanket, contrasting with blacks and yellows, and the occasional white, which is shaped as a circle and sometimes a crescent. There are stars which dot the blanket in an intricate pattern. For this is space. And in the vast ocean of space, there is only silence. An ominous, brittle silence.

A silence that was shattered like a glass dropped from a great height, as a bright flash of light appeared, serving as the precursor to the emergence of a burning, smoking spaceframe of a starship from some sort of space vortex. Explosions ravaged the external hull of the mighty vessel which, to anyone watching, seemed to be hurtling out of control at an alarming speed, leaving thick plumes of black smoke trailing in her wake. Rather fortuitously, an opportunity to put a halt to the disastrous situation presented itself; it was just unfortunate that the solution came in the form of a large, lifeless space body directly in the ship’s path.

Inside the burning hulk, chaos had ensued. Just like outside, explosions and smoke filled countless rooms and corridors as the aftermath of the catastrophe took hold. On the bridge of the starship, red lights flickered as smoke continued to fill the room, the environmental systems struggling to filter the gas. In the centre chair, Italia Ruas was dabbing at a wound on her forehead as blood trickled down her left cheek and she let out several coughs. “Report!” she beckoned over the sound of the chaos, the alarms and the sparking consoles, unaware of whoever would be able to respond.

From several feet behind her, and tapping away at what was left of the engineering controls, Commander Vasoch Gor grunted in response. “There isn’t a system on this ship that is functioning properly!” the Tellarite fumed, looking up at the display above his head. “Propulsion, shields, weapons, long range sensors, communications. Even life support is failing…”

[Deck 13, Astrophysics]

Akaria had always argued with her husband that starships shouldn’t have a 13th deck – sort of like how old hotels used to avoid a 13th floor. Of course, Tomaz didn’t have to tell her that she was crazy; they both knew it. The superstition had always been more of a bit joke that she would do to annoy Tom. But now – as the ship’s red alert blared and despairing, pained screams echoed down the cacophonous hallway – Akaria wondered if she should have been more weary.

Especially now that she was pinned, semi-conscious under a pile of ceiling and part of the wall she’d been gazing at moments prior while her colleagues carried on with, well, whatever they’d been talking about prior. Akaria could feel her uniform thickening with blood around her waist, trailing from as far up as her forehead. “Help…” she called, in the loudest voice she could muster.

And then her plea for help faded into the sounds of the blaring red alert as Akaria drifted into unconsciousness, wondering if Tomaz had made it through unscathed.

[Deck 1, Bridge]

Up in the command center of the bridge, the Captain of the Thesis was huddled in her command chair, holding on for dear life as the ship’s deck plating rattled away beneath her feet. It was yet another test for her ship, and now she could practically feel it falling apart at the seams. She hoped her crew were holding up better than the ship seemed to be, but given the fact that no one had made contact with the bridge, it wasn’t looking good. Maybe they wouldn’t make it through this time.

Tempa lay on the deck, a head wound slowly bleeding onto the carpeting. The helm station was in pieces. Luckily, the same overload that caused the large top of the console to now be embedded into the starboard bulkhead also blew her backwards, probably saving the young Andorian’s life in the process. Groaning, she fought to regain consciousness.

Behind the tactical station, a butch Orion was in similar shape, but his console seemed far less worse off than the Lieutenant’s. Dragging himself up, he pressed the comm panel and opened a channel. “=/\=Medical team to the bridge,” he requested before rushing to help Ensign th’Zorati to her feet.

Tempa nodded in appreciation before moving to an auxiliary operations station. “Attempting to regain helm control,” she said, blood still dripping from the head wound. She was pretty sure she had at least two cracked ribs and possibly a broken ankle.

”Ensign Jaara,” Ruas called out to try and get the attention of the ships Tactical officer again, “I need some sort of indication as to the state of the crew. What can you tell me?”

”Internal sensors are offline,” the Orion revealed in between taps of frustration on the console, “there is no way to tell who is alive and who isn’t beyond this room.”

”Helm control is completely lost. The primary navigational computer is, gone, as best as I can tell. The ODN lines to the secondary NAVCOMP is severed, or damaged or something,” Tempestava reported from her auxiliary station. “We should be able to regain control from Engineering, if anyone is still alive down there.”

”I think we might be too late,” the Tellarite executive grunted from the Tactical station as he threw up the external view of the ship in order to confirm what his limited sensors were telling him. On the viewscreen, the distorted view was clear enough for those present to see the danger before them. Thesis, in all her burning glory, was on a collision course with a massive moon or something in front of them.

”Without helm control, we’ll be caught in the gravitational pull of whatever that is. We’ll be pulled down onto the surface and there will be no stopping it,” he continued and watched as Ruas slowly pushed herself to her feet, “In about ten minutes, this ship will crash…”

It had all come down to this. Years of work on a state of the art starship, months of progress on new, classified technology, and all would be lost, gods knows where after their uncontrolled trip through warp. Italia had to think fast in order to safeguard the lives of her crew. If the ship survived whatever was to occur, then she would deal with the aftermath, but for now their safety was paramount.

It was every commanding officer’s nightmare scenario, their last resort, but it had to be done. Reaching down to the controls on her chair, she closed her eyes and uttered a few words under her breath before speaking loudly and clearly. “Computer, activate emergency evacuation protocols. Five minute countdown,” she instructed coldly. With comms seemingly down, she couldn’t give the order herself, but if this new protocol worked, the computer would do it for her.

Ensign Jaara glared at the Captain, not out of anger, or disrespect but out of concern as the seconds lingered on and the computer still failed to respond.

Then, with a crackling over the comm array, the familiar boatswain’s whistle sounded and the computer’s female voice finally kicked in and rang out across the ship.“Emergency evacuation protocols active. All hands abandon ship. Five minute silent countdown enabled.”

Taking in a deep breath, the Captain looked around the bridge. “All of you, split up, find as many people as you can and get to an escape pod or shuttle,” she instructed. “I’m heading to engineering,” she added, sensing the almost instantaneous protests from those with her.

Disappearing into the port turbo lift, the Captain watched as her faithful crew disappeared into the turbo lift opposite. Taking a fleeting look around the command centre one final time, the Trill took a resigned step backwards and let the doors close in front of her. She would never set eyes on the bridge again.

Or would she?

At the last second, a bleeping alarm from a forward console caused the Trill to thrust her arm between the doors, and stop them from closing fully. Forcing them back open, she made a beeline for the Operations station.

Emerging from the starboard turbolift in much the same way as the Captain, Ensign Jaara joined the Trill at Ops. Soon, the Orion smacked the console again. This time, out of happiness. “There’s another starship coming in…” he grinned as the other officer’s joined them at the front of the bridge.

“It’s the Santa Fe…”

Watching the situation unfold on the viewscreen before them, the concerned expressions of the Captain and her crew told all of the story. If they didn’t act quickly, Thesis and her entire crew would be lost in the vast ocean of space. It was a fate she would not consign her colleagues to.

“Dante,” sh’Elas called out to the conn officer, “close the distance between us and the Thesis. Noli; Prepare a high power tractor beam,” the Captain ordered of her people as she watched the Thesis spin out of control, headed for the planet of Noserfu II. Whilst a landing on the lush world would be a treat for any away team or even shore leave on any normal occasion, today was not one of those times.

“Approaching tractor beam range,” Dante called out as his hands danced across the console, his eyes never once losing sight of their prize.

Noli had finished activating and charging the tractor beam generators and within seconds, she was ready to lock on. Or so she thought. “Captain… I can’t get a lock on Thesis,” the Bajoran admitted somewhat frustratedly. Her fingers continued to skim the surface of her controls as she was joined by the XO. Both officers were at a loss to explain why the tractor beam couldn’t maintain a lock on the target.

Entering the bridge moments later, the burly Orion who commanded engineering looked more than a little twitchy as he took over at the aft engineering station. “It’s the MARS system. It’s preventing a lock on,” he barked between inputting his codes to activate the console, and beginning his adjustments. “We can see it, we know it is there, and the short range sensors know it is there, but the targeting sensors can’t pinpoint it in order to lock on,” his furrowed brow betrayed the look of frustration he was feeling.

“It’s ok guys,” sh’Elas waved away their concerns as she slouched back into her chair, “it’s not like we have people on that ship who are going to DIE if we fail.”

Several feet in front of her, Lieutenant Rawlings and his Cardassian counterpart at Ops slowly turned and locked eyes with one another, each wide eyed and taking a nervous gulp.

Behind the tactical rail, Noli and Desai-Scott were feeling the pressure as more than a few beads of sweat formed on their nervous brows until… success! “Got it!” the Bajoran grinned as she exchanged relieved glances with the XO. “If we direct an anti-graviton pulse from the main deflector, we should force the remaining systems on the Thesis to shut down and reset momentarily. We can then get our lock,” Noli declared, hands braced on the control board as she leant over and looked at the Andorian for the go ahead.

Without any attempt to turn and acknowledge her subordinates, the Captain gave her seal of approval. “Do it,” she declared forcefully.

After a few mere moments, yet further moments of peril for the crew of the Thesis, the Santa Fe emitted a pulse of cyan-coloured energy that made almost instantaneous contact with the hull of the friendly vessel. For those watching on the viewscreen of the Santa Fe, something resembling an electrical surge engulfed the hull of the Inquiry-class starship. Seconds later, the tractor beam emitted from the New Orleans-class locked on to the Thesis, gradually pulling the burning hulk of a vessel away from the perilous position it found itself in.

“Thesis is secured,”Noli declared with a relieved sigh, and a nod of acknowledgement shared with her Orion counterpart from engineering.

“Excellent work,” Tharia nodded, rising to her feet and turning just slightly to the Tactical chief. “Contact Thesis and inform them we’re sending over medical and engineering teams. We’ll tow them to Starbase Two-One-One until they are able to travel under their own power again,” the Andorian instructed of the tactician, before swiftly changing focus. “Dante, make preparations for warp tow and set a course for Two-One-One, best possible speed. Udal, Prida; get as many people as you can spare over to the Thesis. Number One, brief Zinn and have medical teams beam over.”

Her instructions were coming thick and fast, but they were decisive. They were the actions of someone comfortable in command. They were the actions of a natural leader. Much to the continued relief of the Counsellor.

As dutiful as ever, the crew responded diligently and set about their tasks. Watching as her people worked, a strange feeling swept over the Captain. It was an uncharacteristic warm feeling, a feeling totally unlike the landscape of her homeworld.

Leaning over to the Counsellor beside her, the Andorian’s antennae bobbed away and she let out a little smile. Chiera echoed the sentiments of the Captain with her own grin as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. “I know that look,” the Counsellor remarked with a whisper, “you’re starting to realise they’re your people now.”

Tharia nodded slowly. “I guess I never believed it before, but suddenly it seems like it, yes,” she grinned.

“Sometimes it takes a crisis to unite a crew,” the Counsellor advised, her words of wisdom ringing more than a little true today. “Thankfully for us, the crisis is a small one that you have successfully navigated. As for the Captain of the Thesis? Let’s hope she is weathering the storm as effectively…”

Tharia’s antennae stood upright as she thought of the strife her opposite number must have been facing. She had never had to face her command being in jeopardy the way Captain Ruas had today, nor could she possibly imagine how that would feel. It gave her an idea. Pushing herself out of the command chair, the blue-skinned Andorian looked down at the Betazoid. “Kindly inform Commander Desai-Scott that she is in command until I return. I’m travelling to the Thesis,” she instructed as she made a beeline for the turbo lift at the back of the bridge.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Noli called out from tactical mere seconds before the Captain entered the lift. “We’re receiving a communique from Admiral Hanson at Starfleet. He wants an update on the situation,” the Bajoran told as she looked across at the Andorian who had stopped halfway across the lifts threshold.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, the Captain nodded and reversed her trip back towards the front of the bridge. “I’ll take it in my ready room,” she told, crossing the few feet to her private office and waited for the doors to close behind her. Once alone inside, the Andorian pulled out a chair from behind her desk and took a seat. “Computer,” she spoke, “open communique with Admiral Hanson, Starfleet Intelligence.”

“Working… channel open.”

Waiting for the few seconds until the Admiral appeared, Tharia tapped her feet, unsure of what exactly she was supposed to tell him at this point in time. They had only just rescued the Thesis, and now she was supposed to give him an update?

“Captain sh’Elas,” the voice of a well-groomed, brown haired Terran called out. Admiral Mitchell Hanson glared at the Andorian from across the airwaves.

“Admiral Hanson. A pleasure sir,” the Andorian smiled, nodding in greeting to her superior. “We’ve located the Thesis and have her under tractor ready to tow her to Starbase Two-One-One. We’ve got a basic understanding of the ship’s situation, and I’m dispatching relief teams to assist with repairs but I plan to meet with Captain Ruas and find out the particulars shortly,” the Andorian informed the man, as matter of factly as she could given the limited information she had.

“Excellent,” Hanson nodded. “Now, assemble a security team to go with you and take over,” he continued.

Tharia’s antennae drooped, accompanying the confused expression on the younger woman’s face. “I’m not sure I understand sir. Why do I need to take a security team? What exactly do you want me to take over?” she quizzed the man further.

“Thesis,” he told bluntly. “I want you to relieve Captain Ruas of command…”

Linn Mora looked around. Was this a dream? No, he was confident it was a waking nightmare. The ship seemed to be in pieces, crewmates limping around together and trying to figure out how to move forward. The Bolian took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. People depended on him and this search team he had assembled. No time to panic. He opened his eyes and looked at his team standing by the transporter.

”Ok, if there is any chance anyone on this deck survived, it would be in sickbay. It is in the centre of the ship, heavily reinforced and a designated emergency shelter with backup power. Let’s go. Watch out for ruptured EPS conduits. First thing is to scan for any signs of life. After that, everyone scan for damage to this level. The goal will be to get power and life support online and stable. Soon as we clear that deck, we go up by ladder to sickbay and repeat there. Any questions?” the Bolian called out, looking around his team of volunteers and survivors.

Chief Petty Officer Cjase raised an eyebrow, “If you’re looking to reestablish power then perhaps the engineering console on the bridge or the engineering department might be the best place to go as it will allow us to run a diagnostic and see if it is possible to reestablish power,” Cjase felt any attempt at repairs was like trying to fix a torpedo hit with a hypospray of sedative. She stood waiting for a reply. He was the officer so if he stood his ground they would do it his way but she was making notes in her head.

Ensign Daria Fuentes stepped forward, ever so politely, and interrupted. “According to our census, we’re missing dozens of lifesigns. Given the state of the ship, it is reasonable to believe that the vast majority of that number will be sensor ghosts, or, you know…” the security officer for the team advised, her voice trailing off as she reminded them of the harsh reality they found themselves in.

Petty Officer Adam Michaels, a Nurse, had been drafted in as the medical representative on their team, and he looked more than a little annoyed. “Why are we even having this debate? Lives come first, before anything else. Lieutenant, please. We need to find any survivors first. Whatever else has to come second,” he implored.

Mora shook his head. The count was higher than he guessed, which was already too high. “I agree that survivors should come first, however, if we don’t get somewhere operational, where do we send survivors? We need to get to the emergency fusion generator on this deck so that I can reroute from the inactive shields to medical. If we can secure a stable flow of power to medical, then we have a place we can send wounded and survivors until we can seal some of the hull breaches,” the Lieutenant advised.

Taking a moment, he looked around at the team. “Engineering is essentially a loss at this point. It would be easier to list the few systems on this ship that are working right now. We get medical up, we have a rally point. Everyone understand?” He said firmly. He had to make a decision and he held his breath hoping they would accept it.

Daria and Adam looked at each other, before nodding in agreement at the officer’s instruction. Whilst the security officer was far more happy to go along with the plan, the Nurse was more reluctant. “It’s worth noting that large swathes of the ship is cut off, very possibly a vacuum to space. There is no guarantee we’ll be able to send anyone anywhere,” the Petty Officer reminded the Lieutenant. His plan had merit, and he would follow his orders, but the Nurse still wanted to make his feelings known. Master Chief DeLigt had always encouraged the enlisted in her team to voice their opinions when around the officers, so he hoped he was doing her proud. IF she was still alive.

Cjase had hoped that the Lieutenant would have seen some sense, the sickbay was an emergency assembly point because it could run self sufficiently for an extended period, Jayse thought that prioritising finding people and either beaming them off or treating them and getting them safety should be the only goal. The ship was practically lost and trying to elongate the time people were staying on the ship only increased the risk of losing even more people. However, at this moment in time, the Lieutenant plan was not excessively dangerous so she was not going to intervene but she had a duty to the others in this team to ensure their safety was considered in the decisions that were made to rescue the survivors. “Well Lieutenant, we better get moving time is not with us.”

Mora nodded. “We best hope the search team can find a habitable place. If we can’t get sickbay powered.” He paused a moment. “We better get sickbay running and secure.”

After several minutes of walking, the flickering lights of the deck ceased, and his eyes adjusted to a corridor that was lit by the dull, red emergency lights. Panels had fallen off, plasma steam was venting into the walkway and debris was scattered all over. He took a tentative step forward as he began a scan. “Life support is under 25 percent on this level. Be careful, gravity is only about 3/4 normal. Generators are damaged and stretched thin,” he said looking around at what was once was a beautiful ship.

At first, Daria was focused on her tricorder, trying to get some much needed information, but when she looked up, her face dropped and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. Disaster. Devastation. Death. That was what awaited them across the ship, and it was what greeted them now.

”Lieutenant…” she called out, taking a few steps forward and crouching down to place a gentle hand on the blood soaked head of a former colleague. “It’s Lieutenant Romaes, sir…” Even though she hadn’t known him for long, she had respected the Bajoran and his route to the role of Chief of Security on the Thesis. The fact he had been her department head made the loss even harder.

Petty Officer Michaels stepped over to their fallen comrade and bent down, slowly. A silent prayer was given as he gently reached out and placed his hands on the Bajoran’s face. “Rest easy, Lieutenant,” he whispered before respectfully closing their comrade’s eyes, allowing him to rest as easily as he hoped.

Cjase looked at the bodies lying around. It was not a comfortable sight but it was not the first time she had seen the dead, and wouldn’t be the last. She placed her hand on Michaels’ shoulder, “There will be time to grieve later. Now we must try and find those we can still help. Emotions will not help us just now, just efforts and executions.” She knew in these situations that emotions could make you do stupid things, like try to save people who were not to be saved, and put yourself in danger. It might have seemed cold, but it was how she had survived in similar situations before, and she would rather people dislike her and made it out alive than the alternative.

Mora saw the body, and knew it would be one of many. He shook his head a little. “Okay,” he said, his voice broke as he said it. He cleared his throat and started again. “Okay, we need to keep moving. We can bury our dead later. Let’s keep moving and try to minimize how many extra we have to bury,” he said and took a deep breath and noticed the air was cool. “Fuentes, focus your scans for any surviving lifeforms. The bodies we find we will ID for headcount and move on. Life support is going to run out soon if we don’t get some power flowing.” He looked around. “We need to make our way to the central hub.” and fast, he thought.

Having paid her respects, the Security officer nodded to the Lieutenant and pulled her tricorder out of its holster on her belt. “We’ve got fires, plasma leaks and environmental issues playing havoc with sensors sir,” she told, “but I am definitely picking up lifesigns in that direction…” she turned and pointed in the direction that had been behind them.

Mora nodded. “Ok, everyone stay alert for hazards. Let’s go,” Mora said as they moved towards the life signs. It was a nightmare of fallen panels, beams and wiring. The going was slow, but what option did they have?

After a short lifetime of stepping around hazards, they approached a junction with a door that was ajar on the left. Mora stopped everyone. “Ok, this will take me to the fusion reactor. Fuentes and Michaels, why don’t the two of you keep heading to the life signs. Cjase and I will see to the reactor,” the Lieutenant told the two most junior crewmates on his team.

Bidding farewell, Daria and her Petty Officer colleague continued on in the direction of the lifesigns further down the deck. Where they would end up was anyone’s guess…

[Main Engineering]

There is always a moment, in that heartbeat immediately after materialising in an unknown place, when one can imagine all manner of dangers lurking in the dark. The fear of the unknown linked to a survival instinct ,which even to this day was so ingrained within the psyche of so many species throughout the galaxy. And while years of training and experience could not completely quell centuries of instinct, there was also something else… Duty.

For it was duty, and perhaps some hope of a way to help the crew of the Thesis, which had brought their small team across from the Santa Fe. Sensors had been predictably all but useless, even at closer range they encountered echoes and blind spots to the point where it was all but impossible to know what data they could actually trust. Yet at closer range they could see with their own eyes.

Almost seeming to grow out of the bulkhead was something which most definitely did not look like it belonged. Acutely aware of her own heartbeat which seemed to echo in her ears, Lieutenant Prida Rala activated her flashlight and watched as the beam cut through the darkness for a few meters before the light was swallowed up. Yet the tricorder readings being relayed to her display confirmed what the Santa Fe had detected. Virtually no power, and virtually no atmosphere…

”Everyone still have all their fingers and toes?” she asked as she turned to face the rest of the group.

“All extremities accounted for, Lieutenant,” Lieutenant Udal from Engineering nodded after looking around their group.

”Always a positive start to any away mission,” Prida informed him, keeping her tone deliberately light as she waited for the others to reply.

Josue Torres had been stood staring down the hallway just about a hundred meters or so away when the Lieutenant’s words had disturbed his train of thought. “Aye ma’am, all ready here,” the Ensign smiled, turning his attention back to the corridor. Something was off. He felt something nearby.

Soon enough, the rest of their team took stock and agreed that they were in a position to proceed with their mission. It was just a matter of a few hundred yards and they would be at their destination. What they expected to find in the engineering bay was anyone’s guess.

When they did indeed enter the engine room of the Inquiry-class starship, what greeted them was a scene of utter chaos. Crewmembers were scattered around the facility, in various states of dress and health. Some working, others rendering medical aide, and the rest being tended to whilst they tried to stay alive.

Standing open mouthed for a few seconds, the Cardassian leader of the Santa Fe relief team took in what sights and sounds she could, and announced their arrival. “My name is Lieutenant Prida from the Santa Fe. We’re here to help,” she called out, then dispatched her team to assist. “Who is in charge here?” she asked, looking around those officers who were active and in fit enough state to work.

A young Petty Officer stopped what he was doing and looked over at the woman. A sigh of relief left his fragile body and he gave an expression that told her what she feared. She, as the apparent ranking officer there present, was now in charge.

“Okay,” she took a moment to steady herself and lifted two fingers to her mouth. Placing them inside, she took a breath and gave out a loud whistle that stopped everyone in their tracks. “Everyone on me!” she ordered sternly. Those in the pristine uniforms of the Santa Fe stood out among the dirty, tattered and torn of their Thesis counterparts, but now they came together as one. ”Priorities are simple. Restore what power we can, stabilise life support across the ship, and ensure intra and inter ship communications are stable. Santa Fe; you don’t know this ship or her systems, so work with your Thesis partners. Thesis; support your Santa Fe colleagues, and let them do the heavy lifting if needed,” she instructed as she rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go!”

Watching the two crews come together, scuttling off to get to work as one entity, one collective to coin a phrase from the Borg, Prida felt a wave of pride wash over her. This was Starfleet. This was what they did. At times of crisis, Starfleet would be there to help. Today was no different.

[Bridge]

“Our decline towards the planet has halted. Normal forward momentum has resumed,” the anxious looking Andorian at the conn of the Inquiry-class starship revealed, tapping away at her controls. “Sensors are so limited, so I can only theorise that the Santa Fe is tractoring us,” she shrugged as she sat back. “I’ve no control over anything,” she shrugged, spinning in her chair to look at the Captain.

Ruas had returned to her command chair, sitting alone at the center of the Bridge whilst those with her occupied other positions in the command center. “I assume that communications remain offline?” she asked, looking towards her XO at the station behind her.

Commander Vasoch Gor was about to respond when the bridge was filled with the trademark hum and blue hues of a Federation transporter beam, or several in fact. Ruas and co rose to their feet as three figures materialised near the aft turbo lift.

At first, Italia took a few steps towards her Andorian counterpart from the Santa Fe, a great smile of relief on her freckled face. A smile that quickly faded when she saw the concerning expression on the blue-skinned woman’s face, ot to mention the phasers strapped to the sides of the Santa Fe away team.

“Captain sh’Elas,” the Trill addressed her counterpart, “Is everything alright?”

Gripping her sweaty palms together behind her back, the Andorian stood tall and glared across at her counterpart. What she was about to do was her own worst nightmare, but at least she was on the other side. Right?

“Captain Italia Ruas,” Tharia began, her tone far from normal as it reflected the formality and seriousness of the situation before them. “By order of Starfleet Command, you are hereby relieved of command…”

Inside the Thesis Ready Room, or what was left of it, the air was so brittle it could snap, and if it didn’t, Italia Ruas thought she might. Standing behind the safety of her desk, she had locked eyes with her Santa Fe counterpart and not moved for what felt like minutes. No-one spoke, what was there to say? Platitudes wouldn’t cut it right now. Instead, the Trill let out a slow, controlled breath and attempted to loosen her body movements. Her eyes moved with the alertness that came from heavy stress and her hands remained behind her back, clenched by subconscious demand.

“So…” she finally spoke, breaking the deadlock between the two command level officers. “Care to tell me exactly why I’m being relieved of my command?” she queried, her gaze never leaving the face of her Andorian counterpart, hands clasped together tight behind her back. She was more than a little annoyed, but was sure there had to be some reason for the blue-skinned woman’s orders.

Echoing Ruas’ stance, Captain sh’Elas took a step toward the desk. “Admiral Hanson is questioning your command, your decision making and your ability to keep this crew safe,” she added. It hit her like a rock as she said the words, imagining, albeit briefly, how she would have felt if the roles were reversed. She relaxed her stance a little and moved closer to her colleague. “Listen, I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I have my orders. Hanson feels this ship has lurched from one disaster to another in the last few months, and he feels you’re partly to blame,” Tharia frowned, her arms falling to her side as she spoke. “My orders are to safeguard the lives of this crew, and get the ship to Starbase Two-One-One, where there will be an inquiry into recent events.”

“What a sham,” the Trill responded with a shake of her head, pulling out her desk chair and collapsing into it. “There would be no inquiry, no risk to my people, if we hadn’t been ordered to trial this ridiculous technology in the first place!” She barked, incredulous. Realising that she had snapped at the Andorian, the Captain held out a hand and offered the woman a seat opposite her. “I know you’re doing your job, and following orders, but surely you can see that, right?” She enquired, almost pleadingly towards the Santa Fe’s mistress.

As she took the offered seat, Tharia felt herself nodding. “I imagine you’re right,” she agreed, tentatively, “but why keep going if you believe it to be so ridiculous? You must have relayed your concerns to command?” She queried, right knee crossing over left as she got comfortable, hands gripping the arm of the chair.

“Of course I told them,” Ruas scoffed, her brown eyes watering ever so slightly at the realisation of what was taking place. “After the incident at Sathea, my crew and I submitted extensive reports on the matter, but all Starfleet cares about right now is the defence of their territory. They want every advantage they can get over potential threats, and you know how much elements within command have hated the fact we have had such a weakness compared to our neighbours,” she told, well and truly on her soapbox now as she felt the need to defend herself for as long as she could. “The Romulans and Klingons have long had the advantage of a cloak, and people in command still think the Treaty of Algeron was a mistake, that it limited our capabilities. They see this system as a way around that prohibition,” she concluded.

“The treaty has kept the peace as much as possible since it was signed. Without it, we would never have achieved peace. I can’t believe Starfleet are so blinded to that, that they would push on with such a dangerous endeavour like this,” Tharia shook her head slowly. Actually, maybe she could after recent times. It wasn’t that long ago that Starfleet, and the Federation had bordered on xenophobia when it came to outside species, and plowed resources into ships such as the one they found themselves standing on. But with the opening of new fronts of exploration, she had hoped that maybe things would change.

Perhaps if things were to change, then maybe someone needed to step up and force the matter? “Look,” she continued as she sat forward in the chair and gripped her hands together on the table between them. “We’ve got your ship in a tractor beam, you’re going nowhere. I think we can dispense with the formalities of taking your command away,” Tharia let out a wry smile. “You can keep your ship Captain.”

Italia let out a huge sigh of relief, acknowledging the Andorian’s gesture with a smile of gratitude. “Thank you for not ending my career,” the Trill relaxed somewhat, convinced her symbiont would have been doing backflips of joy in her torso if it was able to.

Rising to her feet, the Andorian slapped her thighs with both hands. “Our repair and medical teams are at your disposal as long as you need them. If there’s anything else you need in the meantime, let me know?” the Santa Fe’s commander offered thoughtfully before departing from the office and recalling her security team. There would be no change of command today.

Walking across the bridge of the Thesis beside her commander, Lieutenant Noli couldn’t help but feel somewhat confused. As one of the Captain’s most trusted confidantes, she had been fully briefed on the Captain’s orders, and thought she knew exactly what the Andorian was going to do. “Our orders, ma’am?” she asked in a hushed tone, looking up at the taller woman.

Exchanging glances with her subordinate as they reached the transporter site once again, the Andorian simply responded with three little words.

“Screw our orders.”

Lieutenant Udal arrived in the Thesis’ engineering bay, looking more than a little worse for wear, but more than happy to be helping his counterparts. Most of the entire operations division was currently aboard the Thesis, joining their department heads, to assist with the mammoth task of completing the internal repairs. There was nothing they could do for the external damage, that would be taken care of at Starbase Two-One-One, but of they could take care of as much of the internal workings as possible, perhaps the Thesis crew would not be laid over as long as everyone predicted. 

Engineering, like a lot of the ship, was in shambles. Lieutenant Prida had done a great job getting the teams focused on their task, but now that the ship’s own Chief of Operations was on the scene, the engineering teams were now under his jurisdiction. Whilst the teams worked, Udal, Prida and the man they had learnt was Lieutenant Mora, stood around the pool table, looking at a raft of data.

“So, before this incident occurred, we’d been studying all of the data regarding the MARS system and we had a few ideas on how we could improve stability and boost the efficiency of the MARS system,” Udal told his new acquaintance, “We ascertained that the power draw is just too great, even with your incredible warp core,” Udal looked across at the inactive core, realizing the irony of his statement, but if the mechanical feat of engineering had been looked after properly, it really would have been incredible. Inquiry-class starships, especially the Block-II vessels like Thesis, were top of the line. Pocket battleships they had been called, and to power such a vessel they needed a hell of a power generation unit. Although the class 9 warp drive was over thirty years old, the constant fine tuning meant each new core felt like a new generation. And it was certainly a massive step up from the class 6 warp drive of the Santa Fe. When it was functioning of course.

Lieutenant Prida took over the briefing from this point, tapping away at the controls on the table. “In the words of our illustrious XO, ‘It’s a stealth mode, but we’ve still got people replicating coffee and breakfast’. When this system runs, pretty much everything else needs to be shut down,” the Cardassian Operations chief told, showing a diagram on the pool table which demonstrated carefully, and clearly what she was talking about.

“It was suggested by a member of our team that, in order for it to run successfully, the ship needs to function in a blue alert model where everything running either contributes to the usage of the MARS system, the safety of the ship or the safety of the crew,” Udal added, watching the Bolian’s face as he tried to keep up with the information from their counterparts.

“Ok,” Linn Mora eventually spoke up, “I get what you are saying, but if this is the case, we’re going to extremely limited as to how fast we can travel while using the system,” he told, looking over the display.

“You’re going to be limited to impulse speeds at best,” Prida nodded along, “anything faster uses too much power and causes fluctuations in the system. We think that is what went wrong here,” she mused, looking uncomfortable as she drew the attention of the Bolian to her specifically.

“How is it that you’ve had this information for literally two days and you seem to have a better grasp of it than the engineering team of this testbed?” the Thesis Operations chief queried, his bald head reflecting the lights of the engineering bay as they talked. He was not looking happy.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to offend you,” the Cardassian apologised, shaking her head slowly until Mora raised his hands.

“You didn’t,” he frowned, “I’m offended by our own stupidity. How the hell did we miss such a thing? I promise you, we are capable officers,” he remarked, looking more than a little sheepish as he gazed down at the console before them.

“No one is to blame here,” Udal lowered his deep voice to try and sound as sincere as he could, “and there is no point beating yourself up for it either. What we need to do now is have a solid basis for our explanations ready for the inquest when we get back to the starbase.”

“Agreed,” the Bolian nodded, smiling apologetically to the two officers. “I’m thankful you are both here,” he added as they bent over the display and commenced their discussions. Together, the two crews would ensure the ship was ready in time for their return to the starbase, and that meant the leaders could focus on getting their facts straight.

The question on all their lips now was, would all this be worth it in the end? Would such a system actually give Starfleet any type of advantage, especially if it could, apparently, only be used at impulse speeds?

[Three Hours Later…]

After close to two hours of work, the team were getting ready to stop for a much needed break. One thing the computer had picked up was a bit of an anomaly, but an anomaly which was slowly turning into a phenomenon of sorts given the fact it had seemingly occurred each time the tests of the MARS system had failed. An issue in the waste disposal system. Each time the MARS system had been active, the system overheated and shorted out. There had also been issues with gravity plating and replicators during the time shut downs.

“This shouldn’t happen,” Mora said, reading lines from their data again. “All of these issues identified are related to life support or personnel services, but the computer is not supposed to allow any adjustments to anything impacting those systems without alerting myself, the XO or CO and yet here it is. A crew had already done maintenance on that unit and everything was clear,” the Bolian looked more than a little out of sorts as he looked over the data again. “These should also be isolated systems. Any idea how the waste disposal, gravity and replicator fit together?” he pondered in the direction of his teammates. 

Prida went silent, as she always did when thinking. “Well,” she began after several seconds of careful consideration, “we have found a common denominator: life support.” She paused once again, pressing closed palms, as if she was in prayer, to her lips. She bounced them there, hoping to jog some insight. “The fail-safe protocols have been bypassed, and lesser systems are impacted,” she spoke out loud, to no person in particular. Her hands dropped to her waist, as if she had suddenly had an epiphany of sorts. “When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” she whispered, a startling revelation crossing her face as she looked up slowly. “Sabotage…” she whispered.

Udal and Mora looked at each other and then the Chief from Thesis waved his Santa Fe colleagues into the Engineering Office. What they were about to discuss was very dangerous.

When he was certain they were alone, the Bolian folded his arms across his chest. “You can’t be serious?” he enquired of the Cardassian, whilst Udal stood and watched in silence.

“We have been through everything in your data and ours,” the Cardassian began, “everything you have done, we would have done. Everything that has been done, should work. The only explanation is that something has been compromised purposefully,” the woman proposed to the two. “Imagine trojan-ware is inserted in a system that links with both primary and secondary systems,”  Prida remarked as she opened a thermos, pouring coffee into the lid. “To know the computer, it would appear like code inserted by one of us.” She cradled the cup in both hands taking a sip of steaming coffee, “The software then begins poking and prodding, investigating systems that don’t arise suspicion, essentially mapping out our priorities, and programming.” She looked at the Bolian and her engineering colleague with concern in her eyes. She was biting her lower right lip as anxiety flooded her system.

Udal thought for a long moment. That was a possibility, a strong possibility. Random issues that were affected only long enough to cause disruption but not long enough to cause an alert status. Assuming Prida was right, which he was confident she was because she was so methodical that she always knew what she was talking about, how could this possibly have been installed? He was about to say something then a thought crossed his mind.

”I’m pulling up the MARS system files. Is there a way you can run a scan on everything related to the MARS system for this Trojan but do it like a ghost so it wouldn’t know you’re looking for it?”

”Thankfully, it’s probably not looking for us,” the Cardassian replied. An inquisitive Vulcan-like brow arched above her left eye as she stroked her chin. “However, there is no way I can prevent it from sending feedback on our activities; so if someone’s watching…” she looked up at the ceiling, hoping that this thing or person had not yet tapped into any of the video systems. She tapped the console with her knuckles and focused her attention back to Udal and Mora. 

“Hang on a minute,” the Bolian from Thesis, “you are suggesting someone has accessed this ship, its systems and sabotaged a classified system. We’ve had no one on this ship but our personnel and yours,” he revealed, casting suspicion.

“What about the scientists from Sathea?” Udal proposed, casting the net of suspicion even further a field. “But if we can clone the current programming as a read only file, we can have our independent system compare the coding against dry-dock specs and official updates.”

Prida was excited, tamely bounding on the balls of her heels. She pointed both index fingers at Udal, directing the focus of her thoughts into a solidly conclusive action. “Our teams will then have to identify any coding, software, applications, and programs which were manually input into the computer, from the unidentified remnants.” She clasped her hands together, “but that should allow us to target the specific file and coding impacting ship systems.”

Lieutenant Mora thought a moment. “That sounds like a plan. Only small hang-up is that the teams will be ours. If this is a Trojan, that means it was planted or uploaded. With all the cloak and dagger stuff that has been going on, I’m afraid to bring anyone else onboard to help, especially if…” he trailed off and looked at the computer core and then back to Prida and Udal.

“Until we know the extent, for all we know, whoever uploaded it could be on the ship still. They would also have the capability and would logically be someone we would tap to get on our team. I would say, let’s be as quiet as a graveyard until we know what’s going on,” Udal let the words hang for a moment, then his expression changed.

“Then we have a lot of work to do, don’t we?” Mora suggested, pulling off his uniform jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt.

Udal and Prida exchanged glances, then looked across at Mora. With the Bolian finally on board, the two smiled and rolled up their own sleeves. If sabotage was a real possibility, they needed to get to the bottom of things as quickly as possible. There was much to do indeed.

With much of the Thesis still offline, the three senior officers working on their suspicions were now working in the relative luxury of the undamaged operations hub. Engineering was a hub of activity on a ‘normal’ day, but with so many people over from the Santa Fe assisting with repairs, the place was heaving, which prevented them from working as freely as they could, so somewhere quieter and undamaged was required.

After linking the computers from both vessels, they had input their commands and had the computer begin its search. The computer had taken longer than expected to comb through the information, and the process would have been quicker if the main computer aboard Thesis could have been trusted to provide an objective conclusion. The independent computers in Ops were scaled down versions of the main computer and the only ones likely to be unaffected by sabotage, unless of course, the saboteur was in the Operations Department. The idea was unthinkable. All three of the officers tried to establish suspects and motives whilst they worked but found the whole idea unconscionable.

Prida had taken over a computer console in the corner of the room, and she tasked it with analyzing all the information she could, whilst the gentlemen in the room did the same. Moderately paranoid about the whole situation, she guarded that specific computer by locking its access so it could only be unlocked with her personal access code and voice pattern match.

”Prida, alpha, zero-three-four, charlie, bravo, nine,” the computer instantly unlocked and granted access to the sensitive material inside. Immediately, she encrypted the file with the same voice authorization and transferred the information to her personal PADD.

She spun in her chair; eyes glued to the results. The results were initially comforting. 90% of all information on the cloned image were consistent with authorized Starfleet updates, software, and programming. The remaining 10% contained legitimate sources of code: manual work by technicians, departmental specific data files, and sloppy maintenance by distracted techs. Infuriating, but good to know. There was, however, one source that was of specific concern. One coding that repeated in various identifications, clear to the human eyes, but easily overlooked by a computer. These files were replicated and duplicated in systems across the main computer. In several instances, the main computer had combined the code lines as attempted fixes to erroneous problems across the ship. Crucially, the files were present within the main operating systems they were checking.

‘Guys, you’re going to want to see this,” she spoke, her voice heavy, low, and burdened.

Mora and Udal turned in their chairs and looked towards the Cardassian, rolling over to her on their chairs, the three of them sat in a huddle. Prida’s face was flushed, as flushed as her grey, mottled skin would let it be. “Brace yourselves,” she instructed, her voice heavy, a profound sigh following her words and passed the data PADD over to Mora. Udal leant over to have a read of its contents. 

“The good news,” she began to speak, rubbing her temples with great concern, “is that we have essentially isolated the problem. Our hiccups were the result of intrusive software replicating itself and gaining access to operating systems and functions. We were right,” her tone was flat, lips pursed in disapproval. She wished they had been wrong.

”Well, at least we found it. Too much coincidence for it to be something other than that. With all this cloak and dagger stuff going on, I’m surprised it didn’t show up sooner,” Mora said, looking through the PADD. “What’s the other side?”

”The bad news,” Prida stated, shaking her head with another sigh, “there is not much we are able to do. The program has essentially integrated itself with fundamental programming, and re-written fail-safe mechanisms to support the objectives of whoever built this Trojan.”

Udal read the PADD as she explained. It was all there in text. Subtle differences in code, but it functioned correctly and stayed dormant until the trigger happened. The trigger, the testing of the MARS system. It was hidden deep in code that could have gone undetected for a decade if they had not activated the MARS system itself.

Lieutenant Mora let out the mother of all sighs. “We need to get to the captain right away. Let’s go,” he said and stood up. “Regardless of how this turns out, I owe you both a drink,” He would have never found this out without his colleagues from the Santa Fe., and that was a source of great embarrassment for him.

[Ready Room, Deck One]

Walking hurriedly from the turbolift and crossing the bridge in quick fashion behind tactical, the three officers made a beeline straight for the commanding officer’s ready room. Their presence caused more than a few curious glances from officers working on the bridge. Mora looked over at Prida as he pressed the chime button. “Ready?” he asked with all sincerity.

“As ready as one is with this kind of information,” she replied with an affirmative nod. She liked to keep things light even when in crisis, or at least tried to.

There was silence for a minute, until two figures appeared behind the visitors to the ready room. One had her hands on her hips, whilst the other looked somewhat confused. “I can’t even play truant with the good Captain without being needed,” Captain Ruas smirked, looking at Captain sh’Elas briefly, then back at the trio. “What can I do for the three of you?” she asked, nudging her way past the younger officers, and entering her private office, Captain sh’Elas in tow. She took up position behind her desk and waved them over to stand before her.

sh’Elas knew her officers and knew by the looks on their faces that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

Mora made sure that they were alone in the room, doors sealed behind them before he started talking. He contemplated asking the captain to have the computer secure the room, but that may have triggered even more concerns. “I’m afraid it’s bad news ma’am,” Mora told as he slid the PADD across the desk to the two command officer’s. “My colleagues from the Santa Fe and I believe we have discovered evidence of sabotage on the Thesis. What began as issues with gravity failures, problems with the waste disposal system and other life support issues have steadily progressed into something much larger,” the Bolian revealed, with both the Trill and her Andorian counterpart looking more than a little anxious as he spoke. “We found the cause though,” he finished and looked to the Cardassian Chief of Operations and nodded to her.

“If you will,” she began, reaching over and tapping a button on the PADD to draw their attention to a particular data file. “We have identified a Trojan-software insertion into the main computer of the Thesis. Unfortunately, the nature of this type of malware is that it remains undetected by the computer and routine maintenance; allowing access to whoever inserted the software into the computer. Whoever did, knew what they were doing, and were probably looking for something specific,” Prida looked at Mora and then Udal, taking a deep breath. “We think the MARS system may have been the focal point of interest as that was the last adjustment made before significant systems began to go haywire.”

“Hang on a minute…” Italia Ruas struggled to take in all that she was being told, and slumped into her desk chair whilst she rubbed her temples. “Okay,” she nodded when she felt she had a better grasp of what they were saying. “How the hell did you find this thing if the computer couldn’t? How did you know where to look?” she queried of the group, eager for greater understanding.

“If I may?” the Orion Engineer from the Santa Fe started out. “We began with searching the database for any correlating events, anything that happened at the same time,” he advised, “and we started to spot a pattern emerging. Incident that occured all happened at the same time as the MARS system was running in some capacity, and only after the system went functional the first time.”

“All of the problems were connected to life support. That gave us a starting location. The timing of the events were too coincidental,” Mora jumped in, “we then did a diagnostic on base code and any adjustments and changes to the coding in the system, and we located the problem,” he finished.

Prida nodded in confirmation, “There are two problems here, Captains. First, we can’t provide any information on who or what placed this program into the main computer,” she shook her head in disgust as she spoke, “second, we can’t reverse the damage that has been done. MARS is going to have to be ripped out and an entirely new installation put in place. You’re also going to need to conduct a complete purging of the computer system and start from scratch there too,” the Cardassian advised.

“It isn’t going to be a short layover at Starbase Two-One-One ma’am,” the Bolian sighed, collapsing into a chair opposite the woman, “it’s going to mean a complete overhaul.”

Tharia glared at the woman sitting next to her, and then across at the three gold-shirted heroes opposite for a few seconds before silently folding her arms across her chest. Once Ruas gave her permission to go ahead, the Andorian gestured to the sofa on the nearby bulkhead wall and watched as the operations division officers took the offered seat. Perching on the edge of her desk, she folded her arms across her chest. “What I am about to tell you is known only to the people in here, and a handful of people beyond the bulkheads of the ship,” she advised. “You will keep the discussions private until we reach Starbase Two-One-One and you are given permission to discuss the matter. Is that clear?” her antennae were bowed, almost pointing at the gold-clad officers.

Exchanging glances among each other, the three Lieutenant’s nodded in agreement to her orders.

Thankful for their acceptance, and the ability to finally share their updates with someone other than Captain Ruas, the Andorian looked far more comfortable. “Starfleet Intelligence have suspected for a while now that foreign agents have been working in the Sathea research and development laboratories. We think those agents were involved in the project’s installation on Thesis and were responsible for betraying the ship’s location during the recent incident we became embroiled in,” the Andorian revealed to a sea of open mouths from the Lieutenants. “Now we have evidence that sabotage has taken place, we will continue to investigate, and do our best to determine the perpetrators.”

“Captain sh’Elas and I have come to an agreement,” Italia jumped in, sitting forward in her chair. “Udal, Prida, you will stay on Thesis and assist with securing any and all evidence pertaining to this sabotage, whilst Mora, you will ensure the repairs are complete, and the repair of the MARS system,” Ruas instructed, not giving the officers much choice.

Mora looked at Prida, then Udal, then back at the Captain. “I’ll run a full diagnostic on all key systems as soon as they are online. It did not appear to have spread beyond life support, but then again we were not looking for it to spread. At least we know what we’re looking for now,” Mora advised. Engineering was not in any real state to be a functioning facility yet, but would be soon and would have to be cleared of any risk.

Ruas nodded. “The Santa Fe will be on station throughout any upcoming missions. Starfleet Intelligence will ensure that our missions will be in close proximity until we have apprehended any suspect,” the Captain revealed, “start your diagnostic and report to either XO when you have anything. We’ll bring them both into the loop. I cannot stress the importance of your staff keeping this to themselves for now. I don’t want panic spreading through the ship so soon after the last crisis,” she ordered sternly.

“Affirmative Captain,” the three nodded in response.

“Okay, you’re all dismissed,” the commander of the Thesis ordered before quickly adding, “do what you can for our girl…”

Mora stood up. “Aye Ma’am.” He looked at Prida and Udal then back to the Captain. “Don’t worry ma’am. Between the three of us, we’ll make sure this ship gets home safe.”

Watching the three younger officers depart the office, the captain waited until she was alone with sh’Elas before she slammed the lid of her computer console and stormed over to the window.

Standing, staring.

Silence.

Sabotage.

How had it all come to this?