The turbolift thrummed its way through the Sutherland’s primary hull as her Captain reflected on the duty shift that just ended. It had been an uneventful day, not unexpected when docked at a starbase, but he enjoyed watching the more junior officers man the bridge stations. There was always a certain eagerness in the air, as though they wanted him to notice that they were doing a good job, even if that job was as routine as it gets. It was kind of charming in a way and also a good opportunity to get to know them. One thing that he’d learned over the years was that a crisis never waited until your most experienced people were available. 

The sound of the doors swishing open alerted him to its arrival and he stepped into the corridor, nodding an acknowledgment to a passing crewmember before covering the short distance to his quarters. He let out a deep breath, feeling the need to put his feet up for a while as the computer verified his identity and opened the doors.

“SECURITY TO THE CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS” he barked, relaxed muscles now tensed at the sight of a figure sitting on his sofa. Instinctively, he reached for his phaser but it wasn’t there.

“Captain MacLeod.” The man gestured towards him with an empty hand whilst the other appeared to be holding a drink? “Please forgive the intrusion.”

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my quarters?” Struan demanded. Irritation burned within him, but the man smiled softly and seemed to be radiating a disarming calmness.

Struan was certain that none of his crew would behave like this, but could never be completely sure. The man possessed an oddly unassuming appearance. He was of average height and build, his complexion was unblemished and his features were symmetrical. Absolutely nothing made him stand out. If he disappeared, Struan would have trouble describing him in a way that would set him apart from a large portion of the human male population.

“Sir.” The new voice came from behind Struan and belonged to one of two security officers who had their phasers trained on the intruder.

“Impressive response time.” The intruder calmly placed his glass on the table and produced a chip in his free hand. “My identification, Lieutenant Foster.”

Struan sensed the security officer to his left shifting uncomfortably. The intruder had done his homework on their identities at least, and it felt like they were at a disadvantage. He waved Mr. Foster forward to check it out. The burly young officer carefully approached, but the intruder waited patiently and calmly until the chip was collected and placed on a security PADD.

“It checks out,” Foster declared. “This is Commander Gray, Starfleet Intelligence.”

“Thank you gentlemen,” Struan replied. “That will be all”

The adrenaline gave way to weariness once more as the security officers vacated the room. “What kind of game is this?” Struan thought to himself as he turned to face the visitor.

“It’s no game Captain.” The man made an open gesture with his arms. “More of a … demonstration.”

Struan frowned. He was sure that he didn’t say that out loud, but perhaps he had communicated it with his face. “To what end?”

“Consider me a mission specialist,” Mr. Gray explained. “Trust me, the demonstration will save us time.” 

“So your specialization is breaking and entering?” The sarcasm in Struan’s tone underlined his irritation.

“Yes.” The word hung there for a few moments. “Infiltration is more concise though.”

Struan felt his annoyance morph into a knot of concern in his stomach. For him, that word carried a military connotation and also one of extreme risk. It occurred to him that there may be a more sinister reason for sneaking onboard. “Do you have reason to believe that there is a security threat on board my ship?”

“Not at all Captain.” The statement was accompanied by a reassuring smile. “I would not be here if that was the case.” The man raised a finger as though to accentuate a point. “Although, with your permission, I will need to install a filter on the communications system once we get underway. Just to make sure word of what we’re doing doesn’t get out.”

“I’ll consider it.” Struan rubbed his temple. He was liking this less and less as the conversation went on. “Now, this mission. I think it’s time you shed some light on what exactly it is.”

“Of course,” Mr. Grey motioned for Struan to take a seat opposite him as he placed a mini holo-projector on the table. “What do you know of the Second Battle of Chin’toka?”

“Our first encounter with the Breen energy-dampening weapon.” 

“Yes,” Mr. Gray confirmed. “We’ve had reports from the Deneb sector of a rogue Dominion force. We believe that they’re working with the Breen to integrate that weapon with a larger Dominion warship.”

“We have a countermeasure for that weapon though, do we not?” 

“Assuming that they’d be able to increase the effect of the weapon in line with the power that could be supplied by one of those ships…” Mr. Gray paused while searching for the right words. “Well, we don’t think it would hold. And we wouldn’t have enough time to refit the fleet to compensate.”

 Above the holoprojector, the Deneb sector materialized, with the region subdivided into areas controlled by the regional powers. A glowing dot stood out, well within Breen space.

”This is the Kaldara system,” Mr. Gray explained, making a hand gesture that expanded the dot into a solar system.

At the heart of the system was a dim red dwarf star labelled ‘Kaldaris’. Orbiting it in the inner system were two quite unremarkable rocky planets and then a gas giant with several unlabelled moons. Beyond that there was an asteroid field that had apparently been dubbed the Valaan Asteroid Belt. It appeared to be much denser in some parts than in others and these patches contained the much larger asteroids.Visually it looked like someone had blown up a few planetoids and gravitational forces had spread the debris in a messy orbital band. Two locations were highlighted in the system; the first in orbit of one of one of the gas giant’s moons and the second was one of the more substantial asteroids in the Valaan belt. Below the name of the system, there was a navigation hazard warning.

“Our attention was drawn to this system by an unusual amount of subspace transmissions between it and the location of Breen Military Command.”

Struan nodded, “So a significant project there.”

“It certainly seems so. We’ve only had partial success at breaking the encryption, but what we do have points toward it being weapons research and the energy-dampening weapon in particular.” Mr Grey took a sip of his drink before continuing. “Unfortunately, the whole system is a blind spot for long-range sensors. Kaldaris emits erratic magnetic fields and frequent solar flares so the sensor interference is substantial.” He waved at the holographic map. “We managed to acquire most of this from the Ferengi. Apparently the asteroids are rich in metals and they used to have a trading relationship with the Breen.” 

The tone was loaded with disapproval. Struan didn’t need clarification that it was most likely enslaved people that were traded for the metals.

“According to the Ferengi data, it’s a starship maintenance facility near the gas giant and a cargo depot set into the asteroid. Given the transmissions, we believe the cargo depot has been repurposed for weapons research. We’re calling the facility D-218-C.” 

“Hold on,” Struan interjected. “The Sutherland is a research vessel. She’s not really equipped to be close to hostile space let alone conducting a strike that far into it!”

“Ah, two things,” Mr. Gray smiled whilst holding up a finger. “Firstly, who said anything about a strike? If we destroy the facility, they’ll just resume the work elsewhere and possibly with increased resource. Our mission is sabotage. They have to conclude that it’s not viable.” His smile got wider. “Remember, I specialize in infiltration.”

Struan frowned at him. In absorbing the information, recent events had been relegated to the back of his mind but the reminder brought it back to the forefront along with the associated irritation. Worse still, he now understood that the ‘demonstration’ was intended to skip past the part where the Captain doubts the abilities of the new guy to pull off the feat. He had to admit he was more concerned about where this guy would creep into than if he could do it. He could swear that Gray knew what he was thinking, that his train of thought was proceeding along the expected route. He pushed the feeling down and settled for not providing an opportunity for Gray to be smug about being right.

“And the second thing?” Struan asked, pushing the briefing onward.

“I have a present for you,” Mr. Gray’s smile was different now. It had shifted to a less self-congratulatory, more appreciative form. He handed over a PADD.

Struan activated it and was greeted with a ship specification and command transfer paperwork. “U.S.S. Hornet?”  

“Yes, Defiant class,” Mr. Gray confirmed. “She can plug the gap in your tactical capabilities and you can be a mobile repair and replenishment base for her. This has been in the works, but we’ve managed to move it up for this mission. It does mean that you’ll have to crew her from the Sutherland’s complement for now.”

“I see,” Struan’s response was muted. It was a lot to take in even before his responsibilities were expanded. He needed to think it all over. “I have a non-negotiable condition. Your little infiltration expedition is going to be led by my first officer, Commander Zh’tora. I know her and I trust her instincts.”

“That’s acceptable to me, Captain.” The certainty in Mr. Gray’s response gave the impression that this had also been expected. 

“I’m going to need some time to go over all this information.” Struan admitted in his wrap-this-up tone. “We will meet tomorrow morning with Zh’tora to go over the mission parameters and requirements. In the meantime, I’ll have some quarters assigned for you. 

Commander Gray nodded and stood up to leave.

“And Commander..” 

“Yes, Captain?”

“No more demonstrating your capabilities on my ship.” Struan cautioned. “Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

When he heard the door slide closed, Struan let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. The holoprojector and PADD remained on the table in front of him, a physical reminder that he’d not be able to get any sleep unless he straightened out all the details of the forthcoming mission in his head.

“Computer, Large coffee with cream, hot, double strong, double sweet.”

Panic gripped him, an overwhelming sense of danger and urgency sparked a rush of adrenaline that heightened his senses and set his heart pounding in his chest. He had to move, he had to flee now. But to where?

The corridor around him felt impossibly wide, the stark, grey metal walls offered no recess to hide and the harsh lighting eliminated any cover that darkness could offer. Coldness stabbed at his throat and chest when he took a breath. Forward or backward, those were the only options, but what lay behind him? A glance around revealed only the same corridor, just as indistinct as the one before him. He must have come from somewhere, but memory failed him, as though he just came to be at that spot where he mustn’t stay.

A sharp pain above his right knee captured all of his attention when he tried to propel himself forwards and the motion quickly degraded to a few hops and a limping stagger as he instinctively spared the defective limb. A cry had escaped his lips before he’d been able to consciously suppress it to a pained groan. The residual ache from his leg was joined by aches from his ribs and back as he reached out to steady himself against the wall.

He tried to regain control of his breathing. The pain and anxiety had made his breaths rapid, and shallow. He fought back his instincts and took a moment to look for options. One of the doors that dotted the corridor was only a few more steps along the wall. It hadn’t felt far enough away to facilitate his escape but perhaps now it offered a place to hide, to get out of sight, and to plan his next move.

Limping along, taking care not to aggravate his apparent injuries too much, he activated the door control accidentally as he used the wall for support. He froze and held his breath, cursing himself for his carelessness, but nothing came out and no one apprehended him. Without further delay, he hobbled into the anonymous darkness that lay beyond.

He allowed himself a long, gentle sigh of relief only to be met with the stench of his new hiding place. Old stale urine accompanied by what he thought was feces assaulted his nose but there was something else, something that smelt like decay. Without realizing it, he had taken a step backward and felt the ridges of the doorframe dig into his back.

Lights blinked and flickered. Most failed but the couple that remained on were enough to cast a dim light over the horror that shared the space with him. Bodies. Piles of them.

A weak groan could be heard, twisting his stomach into a knot. Some of them were still alive. He made himself look at the closest pile. Humans. Every one of them had some kind of trauma. Flesh was swollen, bruised, and lacerated. Many were missing digits or even entire limbs. A few were burned, seriously but not extensively. The bottom of the piles were made up of junk. The cracked surfaces and protruding, severed wires indicated that whatever the devices used to be, they were now garbage. Garbage with people on top.

The panic returned sharply as the realization dawned that these people were garbage. Some of the injuries could have been accidents but some were clearly the result of beatings. Instead of taking them for medical treatment, they were apparently just discarded here when they could no longer work. 

Grey sat bolt upright in his bed with a sharp intake of breath. He checked his ribs and knees and found them to be reassuringly pain-free. The bed sheets were damp with his sweat and his heart rate was elevated.

“Computer, what is the time?” 

“Ship time is oh-four thirty hours,” the computer answered flatly.

Five hours until the scheduled meeting to go over the mission plan in detail. There was still time to get more sleep and have a decent rest.

He kicked back the damp sheets and entered the bathroom to splash a little water on his face. It felt refreshing and cool on his skin. He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, as though that would give him more insight into the anxiety dream. Somewhat troubled black eyes just stared back at him, unaltered by the contact lenses he normally wore to blend in with the humans.

He knew the problem all too well. Poking around in the minds of rescued slaves and refugees for intelligence had consequences. The imagery was from real memories, although none of them were his own. Starfleet Medical had procedures for handling such things, mostly used by counselors to deal with the trauma that they help others through. Those take time though, and time was a luxury he didn’t have at the moment. 

A sedative and some dry sheets should see him through for now. He promised himself he’d make time for some self-care later.