Captain’s Log, Stardate 76051.72. 

We are currently patrolling the Triangle after completing repairs and receiving our crew replacements. We are now headed to rendezvous with a stranded D’Ghor warship broadcasting a distress beacon. The crew is anxious facing the D’Ghor with recent wounds so fresh in everyone’s memory. Everyone’s eager to get to work, but I’m sure they weren’t expecting this kind of mission. Still. We’re Starfleet, and helping is what we do. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.

He tapped the stop record button on the desktop terminal and leaned back in his chair pensively. Stars streaked by the window in his ready room. If he didn’t know how fast they were going (which he did), he’d guess based on the stretch of the stars as they streaked by at FTL speeds they were probably going warp 8. Admitting that he had his own reservations about the mission aloud to the crew wouldn’t be prudent, but in private? He questioned it briefly. But if he were lost in the black and needed help, he hoped there was someone out there who’d come help him too, even if it was in their best interests not to. Some would call it weakness. Others foolishness. Some might call for him to exploit the situation to his advantage. But that wasn’t the mission.

The mission? Somewhere out there, a Hunter of D’Ghor warship was in distress and needed help. Details were scarce, but there was an implied medical emergency. A sickness or plague of some type. Klingons were typically pretty hardy, so if it was dragging them down, it was sure to cause problems for his crew. The smart and cold calculus of war would dictate he let them wither and die. But his old man didn’t raise him that way. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. It always came back to the same question. What if the shoe was flipped, and it was he and his crew who needed help.

Tib tended to think of everyone sharing space as all one peoples. Anyone traversing the stars all answered to the stars first. Any number of things could happen out here. And when the universe came knocking with your number, it left you at the mercy of others. Sometimes, that goes against someone’s better nature. But the universe always keeps a tally. And besides, it made him feel good to help. After Frontier day’s recent disaster, he needed that feeling back more than ever. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up from his chair and stepped into the bridge.

There were unfortunately more new faces than usual that turned back to look at him when he came in. The Rubi was always a transitional ship. But the events of the past few weeks have cost the fleet much. The effects of which were felt even here on his ship this far away from Earth. Normally he’d be more comfortable going in with an escort, but right now everyone is a bit of a mess. So he’s expecting this to be an unsupported venture. They’re all those klingons have. He just hoped they had sense not to bite the hand that feeds or in this case, heals.“Status Ms. Thorne?”Lt.Jg. Eliara Thorne tapped her console a few times and then glanced back from her station. “We’re on course for the distress beacon, but long range sensors are detecting something interesting.”Tiberious’ brow arched curiously as he strode around and sat in the captain’s chair. “What kind of interesting. That can either be good or bad.”Thorne glanced to the science officer on watch. “It’s a world. Sir. Uninhabited.” Lt. Vossk replied. Zephyr Vossk was his Saurian science officer.

“Charted?”

“On a basic level. Location only. Further details were deemed to be conducted later.”

Tiberious frowned. They technically counted as later, and it was Task Force 86’s mission to keep an eye on the triangle. On the other hand, urgency was key. They had lives depending on them. He pursed his lips weighing over the pros and cons. “Take us out of warp, and proceed at full impulse. Hold station long enough to run a full sensor sweep. Give the labcoats something to poke at, then we hit the road again.”

“Road, sir?” Thorne asked, turning to face him again.

“Figure of speech Lieutenant. Don’t worry, you’ll catch on eventually.”

“Aye sir, dropping out of warp.”

The Rubidoux’s warp bubble collapse in a controlled fashion, depositing the ship in real space time at the edge of a dusty system and a single K class star, an asteroid belt, and a single planet. The detour was going to be faster than he thought. As Vossk ran his scans, Tib went over the duty roster report. He handed it back to Commander Lorena Kael when he was finished.

“Make sure medical gets with engineering about setting up triage points. We don’t know what we’re stumbling into but I’d like to be ready incase we have to bring sick and wounded over for treatment.”

“Sir, that would expose the Rubidoux to unnecessary risk.” He nodded. “You’re right. It would. So does this mission. We do what we can to minimize risk, but we can never be truly free of it. Besides, it’s just a precaution. Better to have and not need.”

Commander Kael nodded, typing out a message to the doctor down decks. Tib was about to go for a walk when Vossk’s voice cut him short. “Sir?”

“Go ahead Lt.”

“I’m getting a large number of unusual energy readings on the surface of the planet.”

“Signs of life?”

Vossk’s head canted at an odd angle as the blue scaled Saurian pondered the readings. “Inconclusive. But they are not natural, that much I can confirm. I would need a closer analysis.”

Tib frowned. They were on a time table, but this needed looking at. “How long do you need?”

“How long do I have?”

“Depends on how fast you can get down and back.”

Vossk blinked his large eyes several times thoughtfully. “I’m not detecting anything that would prevent normal transporter functions. Thirty minutes.”

“Alright fine. You’ve got thirty minutes. And then I want you and your team back. If you’re a second late, you’re gonna have to show some leg to the next ship that passes by.”

“I beg your pardon sir? What good would showing my leg do?”

“It’s a-…you know what? Nevermind.”

Lt. Vossk shrugged and rose from his station and left the bridge. “Lt. Thorne. Set us up in position to continue running scans. Grab everything you can. May as well make use of the time and shake the dust off the sensor grid.”

“Aye sir. Holding station. Running several full scans.”

Cmdr. Kael folded her arms thoughtfully. “Well, at least the sensor resolution will be better with us in stationary orbit. Flyby’s always red shift the data.”

“That’s the spirit Kael.”

“Sir, may I speak with you in the ready room?”Tib shrugged, “Looks like we got time. Let’s go.”

The pair rose, “Lt. Thorne, you have the Conn.” Then Tib and Kael strode into his office. Kael insisted on standing, where Tib took up a seat on the front edge of his desk. He gestured for her to begin. She stood tall before him at six feet one inch tall. Straight black hair she kept at neck length and pulled back. She was an Erynian, and sported a unique pattern of markings on her skin that reminded him of something between the spots trill bore, and camouflage patterning. Except these changed colors based on her mood. Her record indicated they were how her people used to communicate in the past when verbal communication would put them at risk of predation. Right now it strobed through several blue tones, but he wasn’t sure what that meant. He made a mental note to bring that up later when she felt more comfortable.

“Go on. What’s on your mind.”

“I request this be an informal discussion sir.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Ok, but if it’s going to be informal, you’ll need to ditch the Sir.”

Kael grimaced and nodded. “Understood, si-.” She paused and tried for a polite smile to shield some embarrassment. “With respect Captain, I’ve been wondering why you’re still here? The Rubidoux is typically a transitory posting. Yet you’ve been the CO for several years. Why?”

Tib shrugged. “Didn’t realize this was going to be an investigation into my record.”

“Please. Don’t avoid the question.”

“Ok, Fair enough. Short answer? Tib’s Law# 10. Share everything you learn with others – knowledge is like pollen, and spreading it fascinates growth for all. Long answer? I’ve stayed with the Rubidoux for so long because you guys deserve a leader that cares. Not someone who’s only here to check a box. Believe it or not there’s a lot to be learned. Even in the menial missions. You won’t see us making news, or meeting the president of the federation. But we are the foundation that holds the federation up. If we crumble, it crumbles. This is your last chance to soak up information and training before it becomes real.”

“Real? This is real as well, is it not?”

“True. But the stakes are a little lower most of the time. You aren’t going to run into any transcosmological omnipotent beings, or life altering astrological events. This is grunt work. And many half ass their way through it. But I don’t want to see that from you.”

“You won’t.”

“Good. Because when we walk back out that door. You’re taking my chair.”

“Sir?”

“Like I said. This is your last stop to get your legs under you before Starfleet and the universe throws you into the deep end. The more practice you have? The better prepared you’ll be to overcome those first time jitters when they hit.”Kael’s brows furrowed. She’d expected something different. That much was plain. Maybe she’d thought he was too comfortable or unambitious or something. He didn’t know yet, but was certain that particular nugget would bare itself out. Finally Kael glanced up and nodded. “Ok. That was all I needed.”

“Alright then. Doors always open in case you’ve got something you need to voice. I don’t mind dissenting opinions. Frankly I’ve found they’re necessary. Helps us make sure we aren’t making biased choices. But on that same token, I’ll need you to be ok with the decisions I make after hearing you out. As long as they are within the color of the law. Disagreement is fine, but gross insubordination isn’t. I trust you’ll be able to make the distinction.”

“Of course. Thank you. Sir.”

Tib gave the commander a friendly smile and the two left his office. They rounded back to the command chairs and he offered her the captains chair. She settled down into it slowly, taking it in. He dropped down into the XO’s chair. “Feels different doesn’t it?”

Kael nodded slowly, tracing her hands along the length of the arm rests. This time her patterns faded to a teal greenish blue. Tib smirked at the silently stunned reverie. He’d seen that look a few times now on different faces but it usually always carried the same themes. The promise of future potential waiting to be let loose. Given time and nurturing they would carry on the future of the fleet. Just as he did for those before him.

“Now what?” Kael asked.

“We wait.” He grinned. “It’s the worst part of the gig. Frankly? I miss being a young buck ensign that got to actually do everything. Now? I have to sit around while you guys have all the fun.”

“Fun? Is that what you call it?” Kael asked, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“Yup!” He said and reclined into the chair. So. She’s got a sense of humor after all. Good. He could work with that.

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

Lt. Vossk has transported down to the surface to get more precise readings of the energy signatures he detected from the surface. The optimist in me hopes it’s some overlooked alien civilization. The Pessimist thinks it’s some overlooked alien civilization that got wiped out by the pirate gangs operating out of the Triangle. And the realist in me thinks it’s a pirate camp. We’ll see which of the three it turns out to be shortly when Lt. Vossk returns with his report, and his data.

“Sir. Transporter room 1 just reported that the away team is back. Lt. Vossk is on his way with a preliminary report.” Kael reported from the Captain’s chair.

Tiberious glanced up from his padd, reviewing the projected death tolls of Frontier Day, and finding it difficult to keep his stomach under control. He gave her a soft nod to the conference room. “Have him report to there. We’ll have a quick senior staff meeting before we pull up anchor and carry on.”

Kael’s brow furrowed, and her chromatphores flashed with her confusion. Still, she kept professional, giving him a firm nod and tapping her combadge. “Lt. Vossk, this is Commander Kael, meet us in the conference room. We’ll have a quick senior staff meeting to debrief before we get underway.”

“Yes sir. On my way.”

Kael rose from the Captain’s chair and paused long enough for Tiberious to stand up and follow her. They strode into the conference room, with him in the lead, and her just behind him. The rest filed in behind them, taking their seats. Once his staff was seated, Tiberious gestured to his chief science officer. “Mr. Vossk, care to share for the class what you found?”

The azure scaled Saurian nodded, his large eyes blinked once before he swiped up on his tablet and a holographic of the planet appeared in the center of the briefing room table. He pinched on a marker and spread his fingers to zoom in until it was the away team landing site. Data scrolled on the side of the projection. Tiberious’ chemistry was rough at best, but he recognized a large number of artificial compounds and energy readings.

“As you can see, much of what we found is not native to this world. It’s a barren rock composed of mostly iron and some other trace elements. Likely what didn’t get sucked into the formation of the nearby star. There wasn’t much of atmosphere, so we were confined to environmental suits. As you’ll note from the data feed, it would appear that someone has been using this as a weapons test range. Of the black market variety. Traces of Tetryon, Thoron, and chroniton emissions, as well as some of the more exotic varieties.”

“Tetryon, thoron, and chroniton aren’t exotic enough for you?” Tib asked with a wry look.

“Not in contrast to some of these readings.”

“Any guesses as to whose toy box we just found?”

“Sir?”

Tiberious made a mental note to ease up on the earth expressions. It was a bad habit he’d picked up from his old man. “Do we know who used this rock to test their ill gotten goods?”

Vossk shook his head, “No sir. It could be any number of the rogues that operate within the triangle.”

Tiberious nodded. The test range added a wrinkle, but not a large enough wrinkle they needed to be further distracted by it. This was someone else’s problem now. “Alright, mark this location in the maps and log it for patrol. The last thing we need is some pirate group lobbing banned weapons at us. Any objections to getting underway?”

His senior staff exchanged nervous glances before reluctantly shaking their heads. He got it. No one wanted to be doing this. “It’s ok to have reservations about our mission. Some of us are still trying to figure out how to sleep at night with what we’ve recently been through. Others, trying to make peace with what they had to do. But right now there’s a ship out there that needs help, and we’re the best suited to give it. So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“What if they attack us?” Lt. Vraxar Jel’kan, his chief tactical officer said. It was the first he’d heard from the reptillian Thraarken in a bit. Compared to Vossk, Jel’kan’s scales were a dark earthy brown with a slight irridescant shimmer to them. Of Tib’s crew he was the most finger quotes alien looking of them. More akin to a gorn, but with horn like crests in the males.

Tiberious shrugged for show. “Hard to say. Are we done treating them?”

“Sir?”

Tiberious rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward casually. “Well, you started this thought exercise. Let’s play it out. Have we finished treating them before the attack? Or are they doing so while we treat them?”

Jel’kan thought of his initial question. “All.”

Tiberious smirked. He liked the Thraarken’s tendency to prepare for any contingency. “Well. If they try before hand we remind them we’re the only help they’ve got. We’re here out of the goodness of our hearts, not our minds. And that if they want to push us away, we’re happy to leave. If they attack during treatment, they’ll have to face down our security detail and deal with our quarantine procedures. If they do so afterwards? We remind them we do have backup on the way. We just happened to show up first.”

Jel’kan appeared to want to protest more, but relented with a nod. “Very well. I have nothing further.”

No one else had anything left to voice, so Tiberious took the initiative. He rose, and the staff rose after him. “Dismissed everyone. Let’s go save some lives, and do Starfleet proud.” The briefing room emptied and he turned to give the uninhabited rock one last look. Just another reminder that the Triangle was a dangerous place. Even for barren worlds. He turned and stepped back onto the bridge, finding Commander Kael back in her own chair. He quirked a brow at her questioningly.

“It’s comfortable. But it’s not mine. Not yet.” Kael said, gesturing for him to resume his post.

Tiberious gave her a friendly smile and took his seat. “Ms. Thorne. Any change in the distress beacon’s signal?”

“No sir. Signal is unchanged.”

“Alright then. Set a course, maximum speed.”

“Aye sir. Course plotted.” She turned to him. Every captain had their own special ‘thing’ when issuing an order. It was almost a right of passage for first officers to workshop what works for them. Tiberious’ choice? “Send it.”

The stars blurred as space was compressed in front and expanded behind the ship accelerating it beyond the speed of light while staying within the rules of relativity by a loop hole. With the ship underway again Tiberious allowed himself to relax. Kael leaned close to whisper to him, so he leaned over to hear.

“What if the distress signal is because of the world we just found?”

“Interesting. Go on.”

Kael’s markings flickered blue for a moment. “Lt. Vossk said the world was used as a testing grounds. And not everything was energy readings. Some of the data collected was biological in nature.”

“Something viral?” Tiberious asked, his stomach threatening to fall away from him.

Kael shook her head. “I’m not sure. Not without looping in the doctor. The data looked pretty degraded so I’m not even sure we could find anything useful. But I can’t help shake the feeling the signal is too close to this testing grounds to be a coincidence.”

Tiberious nodded. “Good. Follow your hunch, get more information. Take the data down to the doc. Until we actually start seeing injured or sick, I want this to be your top priority. If there is a link, I want to know about it so we aren’t walking into a bad situation blind.”

Kael tapped a series of commands on the console of her chair, downloading the data and the report from Lt. Vossk to her padd and stood up, giving Tib a nod. Then she marched for the lift without another word. He turned back to focus on the main screen. It was going to prove damn difficult to not worry or brood about this until they hit the distress beacon. He checked the chrono. Kael had a little over an hour. Likewise their little detour bought the good doctor some much needed extra time to prep below decks for triage and quarantine, and every extra minute was helpful. He pulled his personal padd out and started going through the map of the triangle, checking nearby worlds, and activity reports for any more red flags.

Thankfully the zone they were heading into wasn’t reporting much activity from their patrols. That either meant the seedier groups working out of the region had the sense to not get caught here, or didn’t operate out of the region. He was hoping for the latter and expecting the former. Operating in a zone like the triangle was less than ideal for the Rubi, but she could pull it off.

He keyed the console to activate the shipwide comm system. “This is the captain speaking. As most of you may know, we’ve received a distress beacon that we suspect is from a Hunters of D’Ghor vessel. They are under duress and need medical attention. We’re the only ship for 15 parsecs. So it falls to us to respond. Since we’re acting as first responders it falls to us to take care ourselves first and foremost while providing care to those who need it. I know some of you may be a little anxious about this mission, but we’re Starfleet and we have a job to do. So let’s do it. Medical, you’ve got one last hour to make your preparations for triage and quarantine. Medical decontamination protocols are now mandatory. Same goes for quarantine and isolation. Whatever they’ve got, we don’t get. And if you do? You’re to let your first line leader know asap. Let’s do our job and do it right people. Rain out.”

Below on Deck 8, Sickbay…

Commander Sariel Venrith glanced down from the ceiling back to the XO waiting for him with her arms folded. “The captain doesn’t think I’m not busy enough so he sends his XO down to throw me into a pet research project? I’m busy preparing. Go away.”

“Captains orders.” Kael said, thrusting the pad at the too distracted doctor. He signed it reflexively before yanking it back to swipe it at the holo projector in the middle of sickbay. He briefly scanned over the data flicking irrelevant bits out as he skimmed.

“We could always set the search filters?” Kael said.

Venrith scoffed, “If we knew what we were looking for, we wouldn’t be looking now would we? Besides. I don’t trust the computer. Medicine isn’t always ones and zeros. And it only knows up to what it knows, but it can’t make speculations and think outside the box. Which is what you’re asking me to do, you want me to abstractly connect pieces of data and form a hypothesis.”

Kael frowned and nodded, that was indeed what she was doing. She just hadn’t realized Venrith didn’t rely on the computer quite so much. She stood back silently to give him space to think and only spoke when she was confident he was looking for her input. After forty five minutes of shuffling around data he finally collapsed into a chair and shook his head. “I have no idea what you’ve got. But it is something. The pieces just don’t quite fit in a way I can make heads or tails of from the data. Highly aggressive organic matter, but it’s not viral, bacterial or fungal. Initially I suspected some kind of biological weapon but none of it makes sense. Whatever this is? We should be careful. I’m going to emplace sterilization field protocols every five meters in the ships decon protocols. Not sure how much it’ll help, but I suspect we’ll need all the edges we can muster.”

With that Venrith waved her off. “Now go. I’ve got to make sure this thing doesn’t make its way into places it doesn’t belong.”

Kael nodded, turning to head back to the bridge, her skin markings flickering blue and purple with anxiety. This was not good news for anyone.

Captain’s Ready Room…

Tiberious paged through patrol reports filed in this portion of the triangle recently, looking for any connective tissue and coming up short. It was a stretch, but it helped burn time at least. That was something he’d learned the hard way. Keep busy doing something. Anything can lead to insight or lead to a breakthrough. No matter how trivial it may seem. The overlooked gem leaves you just as poor as you were. The chime at his office door drew his attention up. “Enter.”

Commander Kael stepped in practically strobing dark blue. “Sir.” She started. “The doctor isn’t quite sure what to make of Vossk’s data. But he didn’t like what he saw.”

Tiberious leaned back pensively. “Ok, elaborate?”

Kael nodded. “Venrith mentioned that it was organic in nature, but that it didn’t match known viral, bacterial, or fungal configurations. He also mentioned that it was highly aggressive.”

Tiberious frowned. “Well all of that just sounds, frankly horrible. I trust the good doc is taking precautions?”

“He wants to adjust some of the ships decon protocols to emit sterilization fields every five meters.”

“Any downsides to that?”

Kael shrugged. “It’ll be a little excessive on our energy use, but as long as we’re not blasting full output phasers at high warp, it should be fine with a little energy rationing.”

“I’ll leave it to you micro manage that with engineering. You can relay the instructions from the bridge. No need to make a personal visit.”

“We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

Tib nodded and stood up from his chair, arching back his to stretch a little. Thing was so damned comfortable it made him a little stiff. He gestured to the door and the both filed out into the bridge. Taking their seats he called up a small star chart and watched the federation symbol for their ship racing across the map towards the distress beacon. They’d arrive at their target in 3,2…

The ship fell out of warp and Lt.jg. Thorne put the ship to a full stop. They were a full lunar distance from the ship in question and it popped up on the main viewscreen, Vossk anticipating the request. Tib noted the saurian was also working at the sensors already. Good.

“What are we looking at people? If it’s bait tell me now before we go any closer.”

Vossk shook his head. “I don’t believe this is a false operation. The bird of prey is showing structural distress in several locations, but the data is quite odd. The hull is being consumed by some kind of organic matter.”

“That word again.” Tib muttered to Kael who nodded.

“Well Mr. Vossk, tell me about what I’m looking at.”

“It appears to be consuming the vessel and spreading, but its difficult to say for certain. The data is complicated.”

Tib nodded standing up and pacing. He snapped his fingers on one hand and clapped it into the other as he walked a slow circle thoughtfully. “Ok, break it down for me like I’m a child.”

The request gave Vossk pause, who blinked at the console screen for several moments before looking back up. “I believe it’s simplest to say the ship is infected. Parts of it are being converted into living tissue.”

Tib paused and turned to face Vossk with a brow quirked. “Infected. Interesting. What converts in organic matter into something living?”

“The only frame of reference I have if Species 8472. And only snippets of data at that. Much of it from Voyager’s time in the Delta quadrant. But this is different.”

“So similar, but not. Ok. We’re pretty far from the Delta Quadrant, so it’s safe to assume this isn’t 8472. So let’s look at what we know and see if we can make some safe guesses. Is this infection contagious?”

“Difficult to say without knowing what the vector of transmission is. Somehow this had to be introduced into the ship, and by the state of the crew, I’m guessing this wasn’t intentional.”

“The bioweapon traces on that rock we passed enroute. What are the chances they shot themselves in the feet with their black market weapon?”

“Given the current data, I’d say it’s highly likely and also irrelevant. Whatever happened? They’re dealing with it now.”

Tib nodded. “Too right. It doesn’t matter that much. They’re in a bad way and we’re here to help. So!” He clapped his hands. “Thoughts on how to do that?”

“Personally I would prefer we avoid exposing ourselves to that ship as much as possible.” Kael said, “However, we need to get their crew out of that ship. Environmental factors will only make recovery worse.”

“Diseased ship bad. Ok. So options. We transport them or shuttle them. Risks?” Tib snapped and clapped as he slowly circled the space in front of his chair, eying his bridge staff for input. “Anyone?”

“Both. If things are as bad as they sound, we don’t want to be exposed any longer than needed. We extract as much as we can as fast as we can using all our resources, get them aboard, secured, and quarantined for treatment.” Lt. Jel’kan said from Tactical.

Tib pursed his lips and nodded appreciatively. “Alright. We’ve got ourselves a plan. Let’s send it. Helm, take us in slowly. One quarter impulse. Hail the ship. Tactical, put us at yellow alert please and open a shipwide com.”

The yellow signal lights flashed, shields raised, and the Tactical console chirped that the intercom channel was active. “This is your captain speaking. We’ve reached our destination. We’re going in nice and easy. Things look pretty bad. Possible contagion of unknown type. That means everyone is dotting their i’s and crossing their t’s when it comes ppe and decon procedures. No risks, and no laziness. Get our patients, buckle them in, and lets start treating them. Let’s get to work people.”

Tib drew his hand across his throat and Jel’kan cut the channel. Lt.Jg. Thorne already had the ship easing forward. Tib glanced back at Jel’kan. “Let’s get our shuttle teams prepped.”

“Yes sir.”

Tiberious turned back to the main screen. “Now it’s time to reap what’s been sown.”

The ship on screen appeared as diseased as he imagined its crew would be. He squinted his eyes as he leaned forward to examine the image. Canting his head to the side as the Rubi edged closer as a cautious speed he debated just what exactly it was this reminded him of. Finally it settled on him.

“It’s like rust. But alive.”

“A most apt analogy Captain. It would appear whatever the organic component is, it is breakdown the alloy’s of the vessel.”

“What kind of risks are we looking at for a hull breach or structural collapse?”

The saurian at science swayed side to side in an almost jerky stop motion manner as he worked at his console. Tiberius guessed he was mentally playing a song of some type. Music always helped him focus too.

“Sensors indicate the compromised portions of the hall are as structurally sound as the non-compromised sections.”

Tib leaned back, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “Any traces of the energy readings from off the surface?”

“Negative sir, nothing on the exterior. Trace readings from the interior but its difficult to say without a more thorough scan.”

“Anyway to boost the scan resolution?”

Vossk shook his head. “Our sensor suite is barely adequate at best, and insufficient at worst.”

“Point taken. We’ll just have to do the best we can with what we’ve got. We can let one of the more robust ships chew on the data.”

Tib leaned back in his seat, with little more left for him to do now but wait and let his crew do their jobs. The Rubidoux eased through space at what felt like to Tib a near glacial pace. Still, the caution was doubly merited in this situation. If they were coasting into pirate bait he wanted to be ready to run. If they were heading into a crisis situation, he wanted to make sure his people were best prepared to deal with it. They’d rehearsed for this kind of thing off and on, but now it was the real deal. Time to see how much all that practice was about to pay off.

The situation on the disabled pirate ship remained the same for the time being. The ship was largely disabled, rendered that way by whatever transformation or metamorphasis the hull was undergoing. His science officer felt like a hull breach was negligible. Both reassuring and concerning. Whatever exactly was happening to the marooned pirate vessel out there?

“Operations reports the first wave of shuttles are on their way.” Lt. Jel’kan said.

“Thank you, Lt. Please continue monitoring and reporting.”

The Rubidoux eased to a halt at its designated waypoint. Right down to the millimeter. Tib couldn’t help but smile. His brother Kyle would have helmed the ship like its aft end was on fire. What was it he said one time? Fly it like you stole it? Whatever that was supposed to mean. He suspected he needed to have a conversation with Kyle about his off work activities.

“Holding station at 500 kilometers.” Thorne said, turning back to give him a nod.

“Excellent work Lt. Keep the warp drive primed in case circumstances convince us to leave the system faster than planned.”

Thorne hesitated. “Um, sir?”

“What is it Lt?”

“It’s just that…Engineering has been very vocal about leaving the warp drive primed for too long.”

Tib smiled and nodded. He knew where this was going. Ms. Bennett’s hand at work no doubt. He was due for a trip to engineering anyway. And since Lorena needed some logged time with butt in seat on the bridge it freed him up to stretch his legs some. He stood up clapping his thighs and glanced to the XO, who eyed him curiously.

“XO, you have the bridge.”

“Sir?”

“You can handle the situation from here. Most of it will just be waiting on the medevac teams to extract the sick pirates and cart them back. Plenty of time to go stretch my legs and chat with our resident wrench turner.”

“Sir sometimes I honestly cannot follow what you’re saying.”

“You sit here, and watch them do the thing.” Tib said pointing at his chair and then the main screen. Lorena’s brow quirked as she rose and took a seat again.  Satisfied that things were as they should be strode to the lift. “The bridge is yours XO. Let me know if the situation changes. I’m going to go have a chat with our engine troll.”

“Don’t forget to pay the toll.” Lt. Thorne chimed in cheerily from her station.

Tib snapped and clapped his hands. “Thank you! Finally someone gets something I say.”

“You could always try making more sense and using less outdated cultural expressions?”

“Never!” Tib shouted playfully as the turbolift doors hissed shut before whisking him off into the bowels of the ship. A half minute or so later the doors parted open to reveal Main engineering. He always wondered the environmental hazards of taking a turbolift car ride along part of a nacelle, but ultimately, it had to be safe right? Most of engineering was thin personnel wise. His humanitarian aid mission had cannibalized Engineering as badly as any other department. That wasn’t going to be points in his favor, but he had a few aces in his sleeve he could play if he needed. He rounded the corner of the corridor and faced the main housing for the warp core, and stood before it like it’s own personal queen, Lt. Cmdr. Vix Bennett. She stood like a humanoid titan. He wasn’t deeply familiar with her people but knew they were built like human ogres. Most had the manners of one too. Tib was still feeling her out but felt like he’d a confident enough grasp that they got their jobs done.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. “Chief. I’ve got bad news.”

Vix turned her head at the sound of the captain’s voice. She hadn’t been on board long enough to get a read on him properly yet.

“We’ve stopped, but the bridge still has the drive primed.” It was a blunt statement as she turned to face Tiberius, one eyebrow raised. “Why would that be, sir?”

She let the question hang in the air as she met him look for look. He was just a last in a long line of captains she’d had to deal with, some more difficult than others. She hoped he wasn’t going to be one of the difficult ones. The Rubi was a nice little ship, with a few quirks, but Vix knew she could get her engineering systems purring like a kitten.

If the captain let her get on with it and didn’t make ridiculous requests like keeping the drive primed for way longer than it should sit at that level.

”We’re neck deep in pirate space on a medical rescue mission. Call me cautious but I’d like to make a hasty advance in the opposing direction if we get jumped.”

He wasn’t callous enough to ignore a distress beacon even if it made no sense. They were duty sworn to respond. But he couldn’t completely rule out the odds this was a trap.

“In a word? Prudence, Chief.”

Okay, that was a reasonable reason to keep the drive primed, so she inclined her head. “I’ll make sure we have enough in reserve.” She frowned as she thought, her mind already on which engineers she had where. There were routine maintenance jobs she could put back if she needed all hands on deck.

Then she focused on the captain again, and did her best not to glare at him. He was a handsome man, which meant she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. But that was a her problem, not a him problem, and from what she’d seen so far, he was a very capable captain… even if she couldn’t see what an officer of his experience and ability was doing on a Cali-class.

“I know the replicators on deck two are glitchy,” she added, anticipating what his next question was likely to be. “It’s on the list to be fixed.”

“Thanks Chief. I know it’s asking a lot, and I appreciate it. Given the circumstances I’m feeling extra cautious. Let me know if it’s too much of a tax on the system. We’ll try and figure something else out if we have to.”

He gave her a friendly smile and nodded. “Deck two’s always been a little more…special than the rest of the ship. While I’d like to say we have higher priorities atm, I think the crew would be more inclined to disagree with me. Though I did catch an improved game of handball taking advantage of the those twitchy grav plates. The hangtime was pretty solid.” Tiberius smiled when he caught himself straying. He shook his head as if to dislodge the tangent.

“I’m sure your teams will get to it as soon as they can, and that’s good enough for me. Is there anything I can do to ease the burdens?” Tib asked.

The tangent surprised her, and her lips twitched. “I’m more used to warball myself,” she commented lightly.

“Can’t get a team together though, there’s never enough of the crew that are hardy enough. And, no sir, thank you. Unless you’d like to pick up a spanner yourself?” She asked, reaching for a tool from her belt and flipping it over and back in her hand in the same way a soldier would a combat dagger.

Tiberius offered her the self same boyish grin his old man trademarked with the family name. “Tell you what. Let me deal with this plague and ship cancer business, and when we’re in the clear, I’d be happy to come down and pitch in. Maybe we can make an engineering clinic of it. Expand some of the crews knowledge base and reinforce those that do know. It could be a good learning experience and let the crew bond a little. I think we could all use some of that after recent events.”

He glanced off as if reviewing his statement on a padd and nodded in approval, turning his attention back to Bennett.

“What do ya say?”

He held his hand out to shake on. An old terran custom that he was completely oblivious to whether she got it or not. As he was with most of his expressions. They tended to just happen whether anyone was ready for them or not.

She flicked a glance down at his hand, but fortunately she was familiar enough with the terran gesture. Taking his hand, she shook it firmly, then offered a small grin.

“Sounds like a plan, sir. If you’re sure a pretty boy like you knows which end of a spanner is which…”

Tib bit back a chuckle at that. She had spunk. He could work with that. He figured the big bad chief bit was to dissuade junior officers and maybe even most senior officers from getting friendly.

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He reached into his pocket and fished a commanders coin out and tossed it to the Chief.

“The troll’s toll for engineering. I’ll let you decide if I can handle an engineering kit Chief. In due time.”

He turned back for the lift and gave a friendly wave over his shoulder.

”Thanks again Chief.”

Vix’s hand snapped out, and she caught the coin with ease. Turning it over in her fingers, she looked at the captain’s retreating back, her mouth agape for a second before she snapped it shut.

Had he seriously just called her a troll?

Then she chuckled and pocketed the coin. Fair was far, she had called him a pretty boy first.

Lorena Kael sat in the captain’s chair watching the vessel they’d picked up the medical distress beacon from. In the interest of safety the Doctor had decided that using the shuttle bay as the first triage point would make the most sense. It was isolatable, and entry and exit could be monitored and controlled. Making it the best first treatment point, even though it was so far from sickbay. They circumvented this issue by using the cargo transporters in the shuttlebay to ferry supplies that were too large or bulky to move from the industrial fabricators. 

Lt. Vossk’s station chirped at him, causing his head to cant to the side the way a creature might examine something curious. It wasn’t a plaintive alarm so she wasn’t concerned, but more interested was the correct term. 

“What is it Lieutenant?”

“Unknown. I ordered the ships sensors to conduct narrow band scans of the afflicted areas of the ship and the results are coming in.” 

“And?”

“My analysis is incomplete, but the previous idea that perhaps the organic zones were some of type of spreading infection may not be accurate.”

“How so?”

Vossk sighed. The Saurian disliked guessing, but knew that speculation was required to make partially informed decisions where time didn’t permit for the full execution of the scientific method. “Well, if I had to guess and I very much dislike doing so this prematurely, I would speculate that the organic zones are more like….scabs.”

“That begs further explanation.”

“The cells are forming a lattice work, much like blood platelets clumping together. The material at the edge is what you could call the scab, with the center being what the healthy tissue is.”

“So there’s a portion of the ship that is living, and it’s spreading?”

“I’m hesitant to connect the two conditions but it would appear so at the moment.”

Lorena hit the commbadge at her chest. “Commander Kael to shuttle teams. Let’s pick up the pace people.”

“Understood commander.”

Lorena frowned, chewing at her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit she’d never been able to kick. Mother always told her to stop, but for some reason it just made her dig in and do it more. She just wanted those shuttles to come back ok, and quickly. Everything about this mission made her anxious. She glanced over to Vossk. 

“Can you scan the shuttles? How close are they to coming back?”

The Suarian casually tapped at his console a couple times and glanced back up, “They’ve just finished the loading process are beginning to return.”

She watched as the shuttles formed a small train making their way back orderly. Good, she could deal with that. A pulse of green energy rippled out from the disabled ship and splashed against the shields of the shuttles and the ship. Vossk’s sensor console made several plaintive beeps. Even Lt. Jel’kan’s console chirped angrily. 

“Damage report.”

The Thraarkan shook his scaled head. “None. No systems affected. I believe it might have been some kind of scanning field.”

“That would track with the readings I’m detecting and how they reacted with the ship.” Vossk said.

“Sonar…” Lt. Thorne said from the helm. She turned back to Vossk. “Some nocturnal and aquatic creatures use sonar to scan environments. If what Lt. Vossk says about the ship is accurate. That it’s alive somehow, what if it’s pinging the area to try and find out where it is?”

“That would either indicate a level of sentience or that something within it is guiding this behavior. Either scenario is far beyond the capabilities of the Rubidoux to confirm.”

Lorena frowned. This mission was getting more and more complicated. Of course it had to be complicated. “Monitor the situation for now.”

Vossk nodded and resumed scanning. Jel’kan hissed annoyed from his station. Lorena knew the Thraarkan were known for their aggressive and predatory behavior. Something that would make even the gorn think twice about provoking them. The idea of being passive and sitting back waiting to be attacked likely didn’t sit well with him. 

Lorena watched as the shuttle convoy grew larger on the main screen on their approach back to the ship. She tapped her combadge again. “Bridge to shuttlebay. Doctor, you’re about to have visitors.”

“Understood bridge. We’re as ready as we can be. Please let the captain know. Shuttlebay out.”

The turbolift doors hissed behind her and Tiberius strode briskly into the bridge. He strode around the railing behind the captain and xo’s chairs to face the main screen with a confident nod. He glanced back to Lorena who’d already risen from the command chair to cede it back to him.

”The shuttles are in the process of landing in the main shuttle bay now. The doctor has a decontamination field set up to scrub the hulls free and everyone entering will be required to process through a strict quarantine procedure. All available hands are on deck. Security will be on hand to facilitate patient movement and placement and also to lock down access to dirty zones. Engineering staff will be tasking with monitoring bio filters and ensuring everything stays online. Science and medical staff will be the most directly engaged with diagnosis and treatment.”

Tib nodded. Everyone knew their jobs. Now they just had to execute.

“Outstanding. Now we just need a deck of cards.”

”Why?” Lorena asked, patterns flashing purple and blue.

”It’s a phrase from back home. We’re all ready to play.”

”You have many of those, don’t you?”

He nodded feeling a little deflated at yet another missed reference. “Yeah…” he gestured for her to sit.

”Take a seat commander.  Now comes my least favorite element of command.”

”Which is?”

”Hurry up and wait for something to happen.”

”Sir I think given the situation that’s not what we’d want.”

Tiberius settled down with a sigh. “Unfortunately it’s not up to us if something happens, which it will mind you. So now we just bide our time till it does. We’ve taken every measure possible to mitigate the risks. Now we see how it shakes out.”

”Is that wise? To trust things to work out?”

”It’s not so much about sitting back passively as much as trusting your people to do their jobs so that when the time comes you can do yours. Give it time Commander. You’ll understand eventually.”

Lorena nodded slowly. She’d have to trust him for now. He obviously knew what he was doing if he’d made it this far.

Lt. Daniel Rain ran through warp calculations mentally while he waited for the computer to finish its analysis on the particles he was studying. The equipment was sorely insufficient, and the lab was entirely too small. But he was alone and had his research. Thanks to distress beacon the ship was responding to some kind of medical emergency. Although Lt. Vossk had mentioned in his department briefing a few minutes ago that things may be developing with the situation that would require more of Danny’s attention. For now though he had time for his current work. He wished he had more complex machinery to work with. It would accelerate his study in artificially stimulating decay in protons via topological defect fields. Nevertheless simulations would have to suffice for now. At the least it would give him theoretical data with which he could construct the foundations of deeper hypothesis in his theory. If he was right the possibilities for clean, heatless, self sustaining power source equal to a standard matter/anti-matter warp core would improve exponentially. 

“Computer, Alter lab parameters. Create a stellar environment with 1 gas giant capable of brown dwarf classification.”

The lab dematerialized and the black vacuum of space appeared all around him. Set before him the looming spherical sprawl of a planet that looked similar to Jupiter minus its distinctive brown and red swirls. He needed the ability to zoom in and out on demand. 

“Computer assign zoom in and out functions to a pinch and spread gesture with my right index finger and thumb. Confirm.”

“Confirmed. Zoom in and out functions assigned to the pinching and spread gesture of your right index finger and thumb.”

Danny tested it a few times and nodded. Good. “Computer. Set specifications for jovian planet: Magnetic Monopole in low atmospheric gravity.”

The system chirped as it reconfigured the necessary settings, and then he zoomed in deeper and deeper until baryonic matter was almost as large as he was. The result was a phenomena that was similar to the Van Allen belt of Earth, only a multitude more powerful. His goal was to observe protonic decay occurring faster than the standard time allotted. The gravity well of a gas giant was nothing like the gravity well of a black hole, but the gravitational affect should be more noticeable. As well as the focal lensing of time. Namely the semi-relativistic effect on the proton and it’s decay. 

Danny passed the next few hours managing the simulated time parameters and configuring the settings more until finally he was able to catch one in the process of decay. He watched as the particle radiated an extreme burst of light for several seconds. His head canted to the side. On its own the phenomena was barely worth mentioning. But what if he could funnel lots of particles into a chamber lined with photovoltaic sensors? As a one for one generation system that would create energy, but what about storage for peak usage? 

He leaned back mentally brainstorming particle storage containers and transference cables that could feed excess particles into storage to prevent the proposed system from burning out. He realized the more he was theorizing the more he’d begin to need the hand of engineer. Danny frowned. That meant drawing more people into his research. He made a note to visit the chief later to discuss the possibility of assigning someone to assist him if she wasn’t interested herself. He didn’t know her that well. He didn’t know anyone well beyond his own brother and he barely knew Tiberius. They’d never been what anyone would consider close.

For now he could satisfy himself with theoretical designs until someone with more knowledge could tell him what was and wasn’t possible. He had the lab create him a stylus that he used to draw a design and had the labs holographic system make a 3d model. He built the design with power generation and propulsion in mind and the design reflected that, with a rounded conical housing and a fly wheel that could spin augmenting magnetic particle manipulation. If his theories held up, these could be mounted in place of impulse engines or alongside to assist with sub light maneuvering and propulsion. The excess power generation could also be back fed into the ship to assist other primary systems or even take the load off the warp core. There was of course the obstacle of figuring how to mix electrical power within the EPS system since that relied on a different power medium. Something to confer with the chief with about. He made a few more notes regarding merging the power feeds into one source since running a network for an all new power source felt time and resource prohibitive. 

When Danny finished he had a viable simulated system that in theory could be used to either augment the ships standard propulsion and power generation needs, or fully replace it all together. The prospect of a power system that would in theory be more safer than pumping pressurized electrically charged plasma throughout the entire ship. 

Danny cut the gravity in the room and allowed himself to drift upwards with a slight rotational spin. Tapping an index finger to his cheek in thought as he mulled over possibilities. Perhaps there was a way to rig up a converter to feed the extra energy into the plasma network directly? Or perhaps the storage containers could be dual purpose capacitors as well. Capable of storing and feeding power? That might depend on materials and integration issues. If particles could be stored for use, there was nothing saying the inverse couldn’t be done either, with a massive shunt of them. He started running through the numbers. If particle generation was accelerated along with a forced dump of stored reserves it would be possible to accelerate power output by up to three times the normal parameters. The drawback being that depleting the storage reserves would leave systems weakened afterwards until storage parameters were equalized again. Still, such a significant boost could prove useful in tactical situations. He made a note to bring it up with his brother later. 

“Lt. Vossk to delta shift, I’ve got a project for you. Meet me in lab 2.”

Danny sighed, and reactivated the gravity plating slowly so that he returned to the floor, and reconfigured the lab to standard again while saving his progress and notes to review later for his report. He knew that since this wasn’t a dedicated science and exploration craft it was unlikely to expect movement on his research, but he’d still make the proposals all the same. He would try until someone listened. 

Chief Medical Officers log Supplemental

The shuttle loads of patients have arrived and we’ve sorted them into our triage center built up in the main shuttle bay. I’ve run trauma centers before but this one is different. Most pathologies run a similar course. Incubation, prodromal stage, illness, and convalescence. However in this instance, the patient’s symptoms are difficult to diagnose due to the near catatonic state their illness has placed them. Curiously whatever they’ve been afflicted with, it doesn’t appear to be airborne. Still, I’ve set all decon and ppe measures to maximum to protect the crew. I need to run some more tests to determine what exactly I’m dealing with, but so far, I’m not getting any hits on our database. According to Starfleet medical, this bug, whatever it is, doesn’t exist. And the captain thinks this ship is supposed to never see any excitement. Nothing like a little wild frontier medicine to shake things up. Hopefully we can figure out what this is before its too late for the afflicted. 

Sariel sighed, logging out of his terminal and donned the rest of his environmental suit. In a lot of ways it resembled a vac suit, but the hands were slimmer to allow for more dexterous use of medical tools as needed. The shuttle bay was eerily quiet. None of the patients made any noise. Like none. They didn’t talk, they didn’t moan. Not even a cough or sniffle. Whatever was happening to them, it was like they were tuned out. No one was home. Sariel had never seen anything quite like it. 

He ran some secondary scans on a few of the first patients he came across. They looked the worst for wear. He wasn’t sure if it was grace or luck that whatever they had seemed to numb the patients to it. But when he looked closer, he could see something that defied medical explanation. Whatever they had was breaking their bodies down. All their specialized cells were reverting back into stem cells. Reverse differentiation and mitosis. How odd. What purpose would this serve? What was the sense of forcibly reversing a bodies cellular make up back to stem cells? Without the specialized cell structure it would die. Unless…

Sariel ran a new scan, this time scanning for… and there it was. Quickly he drew a blood sample from an afflicted orion male. The typically dark green blood had a runny clear tinge to it. This wasn’t good. If it kept up, their skin would literally liquify. He needed to brief the captain. If the crew caught this he wasn’t certain he could stop it. Whatever these patients had contracted, it was doing something to them. For what ends though, he wasn’t sure. He tapped his combadge.

“Triage to the bridge. Captain, I think I need to brief you on what I’ve found.”

“Ok, how long will it take you to clear decon?”

“Too long. Gather the staff. We’ll do it via holo.”

“Understood. We’ll message shortly.”

Sariel paced impatiently in his small office area. It was little more than some plastic erected into four walls to form a small office with a large holoprojector and desk. After a few minutes of wearing out a small figure eight into the deck plating, the projector pinged active and displayed the attendees up on the bridge. 

“Alright Doc, you’ve got us all Save for Chief Bennett who is coordinating things in the bottom half of the ship. Go ahead.”

“The plague that’s been affecting the crew of that ship? They’re being transformed somehow. Their DNA is rewriting itself.” Sariel then went to great lengths explaining his findings and could pretty much tell when each of the senior staff mentally checked out of the medical nuances of his explanation. All except for the chief science officer. The Saurian. Sariel liked that one. 

Lt. Vossk’s scaled brow arched but his eyes narrowed. He knew something. Sariel knew that suspicious and thoughtful look. He’d worn it often enough himself when treating complex ailments. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind. What is it Lt. Vossk?”

Vossk’s head twitched at an angle. The science officer clearly wanting to be succinct and delicate with his wording. “I have a hypothesis and very little to base it on. I dislike the position of not having enough evidence to back it up. But for now it feels the most correct.”

“Well, don’t leave us all in suspense Vossk, lay it out.”

“A review of facts. We know the ship is currently undergoing a metamorphasis. Non organic areas are converting themselves into what can amount to organs. A heart, flesh, muscles and nerves. Likewise a similar change is taking place in the crew. What if the two afflictions are connected?”

Sariel understood now. “What if the ship is what’s causing their sickness?”

“Transformation doctor. As you said, they are undergoing cellular differentiation. Their bodies are being rewritten. Much like a larger body changes stem cells into more specialized cells, I believe whatever effected the changes to the ship is changing the crew as well.”

“The ship is turning the crew into its cells?” The captain asked. 

Vossk’s head bobbed in agreement. “In a manner of speaking yes.”

“Are we at risk by having brought the crew aboard? Is this condition infectious?” Tib asked.

“No, I don’t believe so, but it’s best to leave the decon measures and ppp levels at max for now. I haven’t seen any signs its transmissible, but I don’t want to risk it getting loose in our own ship. Pinning it down once it got loose feels impossible. Otherwise there’d be a few non afflicted members of the crew we fished out of that ship.”

“Are we harming them by bringing them here?” 

“Unknown. So far I haven’t detected any indication of harm. But I’ll monitor them closely.”

“Doctor!” Someone shouted from within the bay. 

“One moment.” Sariel said before trotting out of the makeshift office to see what the commotion was. When he got to the source he had to push his way through a small gathering to find… a chrysalis. It was roughly humanoid shaped. Sariel drew the tricorder at his waist and took several scans to confirm his guess. The epidermis had formed a hard exoskeleton while the body reduced itself down to reconfigure within the chrysalis. 

“This is going to make for some interesting reading in the next medical journal…” Sariel mused at the readings. This was a patient who’d been infected the longest. Which meant more should be forming these chrysalis very soon. 

“So what comes out then?” an ensign from his department asked.

“That ensign, I can’t answer. Not yet at least. But I suspect we’ll find out long before we rendezvous with the hospital ship that’s enroute.” Sariel handed the tricorder to the ensign. “Get everything you can.”

“Sir?”

Sariel trotted back to his office where the senior staff sat patiently waiting for him to return. He tapped a few keys on the desk console and uploaded the tricorder’s scans remotely. 

“What are we looking at Doc?” The captain asked. 

“One of the patients just formed a chrysalis.”

“Like a moth?” Tiberius asked.

“Close. Moths make cacoons out of silk sir. Butterflies form chrysalis out of their own bodies.” Lt. Vossk replied.

“That’s correct. Right now one of my patients just formed a hard leathery shell around their body while it turns into something different inside.”

Tiberius frowned, turning to Lt. Jel’kan. “Put extra security on the shuttlebay as a precaution and put two checkpoints on either side of the entry point.”

The Thraarken nodded stiffly. “I’ll have them posted as soon as the meeting is done.”

“Only our people go in and out.” Tiberius added. He turned back to the holoprojection of Dr. Sariel, “And Doc? Try and see if you can figure out what’s going on.”

Sariel sighed. “With this equipment? You’ll be lucky if I can give you best guesses. This is something for the Enterprise, not us.”

Tiberius nodded sympathetically but wasn’t dissuaded. “I understand. Just do the best you can with what you have. Right now we’re all that’s out here. We’ll be linking up with the USS Hopkins outside of the triangle, but that’s a few days at cruise speed. Till then, we learn what we can.”

“What about the ship?” Lt. Vossk asked. “It would seem unwise to leave it here where it might infect others.”

Tiberius frowned, thinking it over. 

“We could just tow it out with us. The Rubidoux can handle it. We’d have to go slower, she’s got the power to handle a warp tow.” Commander Kael said.

“Any evidence to suggest doing that would risk exposing anything or anyone else?” Tiberius asked.

Vossk shook his head, and Sariel shrugged. “None that I’ve seen so far. Whatever happened doesn’t appear to be something that is contagious beyond the initial event.”

“Alright. Then we tow the ship to the Hopkins. Let them study it. Dismissed.”

Captain’s Log: Supplemental

We’ve managed to extract all of the crew of the afflicted ship only to find they are now succumbing to some kind metamorphosis. It doesn’t appear to be reversible. At this time we’re doing our best to keep them comfortable while whatever is happening runs it’s course. In the meantime we’re going to make best speed to link up with the Hopkins to drop off the afflicted and leave the vessel for them to study. That means a warp tow. Which I’m sure our resident engine troll will just feel warm and fuzzy about. At any rate, I’ve passed on my preliminary report to command and informed them of my decisions. We’re not exactly equipped to handle this kind of situation so we’re going to hand off jurisdiction to a better equipped team. Rain Out. 

Tiberius leaned back from his desk with a heavy sigh as he glanced out the only window in his office to regard the vessel. A quick glance at Dr. Sariel’s report told him that there were 18 pirates aboard that vessel before whatever set this event off went down. He just hoped this would be a lesson to any other similar minded parties within the triangle to change their methods. Tiberius had no solid leads on the cause yet, but his guess was that it stemmed from something they discovered on the test range they discovered on their way in. Maybe there was a malfunction, accident or even a mutiny. Either way, something happened inside that ship, and now it was…changing. Into what? No one knew. All indications pointed to some kind of ship sized cosmological being. It wouldn’t be the first time starfleet documented an organism that functioned in vacuum. Would it be the first time one of this type was documented though? And if so, how it would it react to them? 

All the better to get it to the Hopkins. He tapped the comm button on his desk. “Captain Rain to the bridge. Commander, how close are we to pulling up anchor?”

“Sir?”

“Are we ready to get underway?” He asked deflated. 

“Almost. I just need to check with Engineering. Given the high power demands of the shuttle bay quarantine, we may need to take a few decks off line.”“See to it. Rain out.” On the bridge Lorena Kael’s chromatophores flickered through a variety of colors and patterns making her look something like a cephalopod or chameleon momentarily. Lorena knew of the Chief Engineer’s trademarked prickliness, but she’d never had to deal with anyone patently difficult to work with. She only hoped this interaction would go quickly. 

“Bridge to Engineering.” Lorena paged. 

“Engineering here,” Vix replied, her brow creased as she stood by the central power management console in engineering. Her knee ached something chronic, but she ignored it, transferring her weight to her left leg. She’d have to put the brace back on later, which always made her crabby… as did the bridge wanting ridiculous things, like for the Rubi to pull another ship. Might as well slap a heavy haulage sticker on the damn hull and be done with it.

“The captain has requested we tow the infected D’Ghor ship to a nearby dedicated research vessel. I know we’ve kept the engines primed for a hasty retreat incase of hostiles, but we’re going to need to draw even more power out for a dual warp tow. How long till we’ll be able to set out?”

Vix rubbed between her eyebrows. She had a headache coming so her reply was clipped and no-nonsense. “That depends on whether you want a hasty retreat or a tow. One or the other because we’re not going to do both effectively.” 

“We need the tow. I’ll leave the coordination decisions to you chief. If you have to draw it from other decks then you have the Captains authorization. The scope of the mission is already beginning to creep beyond our measure. We’ll be rendezvousing with the Hopkins to hand off the afflicted crew and the ship for more in-depth study and quarantine. We just need to make it out of the triangle with the infected ship.”

Vix nodded, even though the bridge officer couldn’t see her. “Tow it is,” she replied, already tapping out instructions on the console in front of her. “It’ll be bumpy and we’ll drop power on the lower decks by 30 percent.”

She pursed her lips, still working out power management in her head as well as with her fingertips. “Give me a few minutes to recalibrate and then we’ll be ready to turn and burn.”

Lorena gave the chief a thankful bow of her head. “Thank you chief. Make whatever preparations you feel are necessary. We’ll await your word. Bridge out.” When the connection cut Lorena sighed in relief. “That wasn’t so bad.” Maybe she could handle this whole command thing after all. Losing thirty percent power was a sizeable hit. But the captain was clear. They get the ship and whatever its crew was turning into, and they get out and clear of any potential worlds that could be contaminated. They still no data to indicate it was contagious, but the Captain wasn’t taking risks, and she couldn’t blame him. Once they were ready to move, she’d go get him per his orders.

Captain’s Log

We’ve finished calibrating the Rubidoux to conduct a warp tow of the infected Klingon vessel and we’ve charted a path that will take us through the most empty space possible and minimize exposure and risk as much as possible. My chief science officer and chief medical officer think the ship is somehow transforming the crew into symbiotic components. Like red blood cells in a larger living organism. My cosmozoological skills are pretty rusty but this goes beyond even the crazy stuff already documented by the likes of the Enterprise and Titan. I’m getting red flags from a ship suffering some kind of metaphasic infection that turns the ship into a living creature. This is all above the Rubidoux’s ability to study or manage, so we’re going to take this problem, and pass it off to better suited hands. It’s not an ideal resolution in my eye, but it’s the only one that makes sense. 

Part of me dislikes not being able to handle the situation. But the other part of me isn’t so ego driven that I can’t go another day without handling it myself. I’m big enough to admit when I’m in over my head, and this is starting to scale beyond what we can handle. Had this been Rigelian small pox? Sure. But this? Who knows. It’s hard to tell where the black market weapons ended and this began. Was it accidental? Or intentional? Did they know what would happen when they started to play with this stuff? Or just ignorantly grabbing whatever they could as long as they thought they could ruin someone else’s day with it?

Part of me wonders who the bigger monsters are here. Them for playing with weapons and science they didn’t understand? Or me for wondering if the Triangle is better off without them and whatever is affecting them.

The intercom chimes.

“Go ahead?”

“Captain. We’re all set. But the Chief says we’ll lose up to 30% of our power on the bottom most decks.” Commander Kael said from the bridge. 

“Understood. I’ll be out in a moment.” A pause. “Computer. Amend report to just before the intercom paged me.”

“Report amended.” The computer replied.

“Save and file.”

A series of chirps indicate the work is done with a non verbal audio queue. With that sorted, Tiberius rose from his chair, and strode into the bridge. His staff all turned to eye him for a moment as he did and he gave them all confident nods.

“Right. I think we’ve overstayed our welcome to this particular little shop of horrors. Deploy the tractor beam.”

A conical beam of writhing blue light consisting of magnetized gravitons latched onto the infect D’Ghor ship, slowly drawing it towards the Rubidoux. 

“Helm, plot our course.”

“Course plotted, sir.” Thorne turned back to him and said. Tib gave her a nod, “Computer, open a channel to the whole ship. He waited for a confirmatory series of digital chirps to stop.

“This is your captain speaking. We’re going to conduct a warp tow. We’re going to maintain as high a warp factor as possible. As a consequence we’re going to lose up to 30% of our power on our lower decks. This will mean that safety is our watchword. Always move with a buddy, and report anything dangerous as soon as you can. Buckle in people, this could get choppy.”

Tib canceled the channel and turned back Thorne. “Send it.”

The Rubidoux’s warp drive whined with notable extra strain as it formed a bubble around not just its own hull, but the klingon ship in tow as well. Time and space hesitated for a moment in an awkward ballet as the physics tried to sort itself until suddenly Alcubierre’s solution won out, and the ship hurtled off at over a thousand times the speed of light. 

The ship was following a path that saw it conducting a series of micro jumps. Measured to minimize exposure to any populated systems and prevent contamination. But also to reduce overall strain on the warp manifolds and prevent the ship’s engine troll from making her way to the bridge to break everyone’s knee caps, Tib’s included. He liked his knee caps just fine and unbroken, thank you very much.

At the third micro jump the ship and the infected vessel fell into normal space and time just as they had the previous two. Except this time they had company. An uninfected D’Ghor ship. It blocked their path and the Hopkins was still too distant to respond. 

“Well. This is awkward. Nothing like getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“I know just enough basic to understand that euphemism. Are you sure they’ll interpret it as us stealing the ship? It’s infected. Who would want it anyway?” Lorena asked. 

Tib wanted to beam proudly, but kept a careful expression of neutrality for her sake. Couldn’t have the XO knowing you were proud she got your first reference. “It’s pirates. They could be thinking any number of things. That’s the problem though. They’re here, and they’re thinking. Both are unideal situations. Worse still when paired together.”

“So what do we do?” Lorena voiced for everyone on the bridge, all eyes turned to Tib and for a brief moment, he was reminded of his attempts at the Kobayashi Maru. The oppressive uncertainty of it. The weight of all those lives that rode on his decisions. He knew that no matter what he did here, someone was inevitably going to wind up hurt. Whether it was his crew, or theirs. He needed to decide here and now which side that was. And how that looked.

“Open a channel.” 

“Channel open.”

“This is the starship Rubidoux. We’re responding to a level 3 medical emergency and we need to get by you.” 

He paused, waiting for a reply, yet none came. He turned to look to Lorena for a moment. “Thoughts?”

Her chromatophores flickered nervously. “I don’t like it. They’re probably trying to decide how they want to proceed. I’d be alert to an attack.” 

“Sir, I feel compelled to remind you that with our current power configuration powering shields and weapons would significantly deplete our warp drive. We wouldn’t be able to tow the infected vessel at warp.” Lt. Vossk said from his station. 

Tib stroked the short beard at his chin thoughtfully, studying the Klingon ship. They hadn’t fired yet. Maybe that was an opening. If it was, he’d take advantage of that. 

“You’re no doubt wondering why you’ve lost contact with this ship and it’s crew. If that’s the case, allow to sate your curiosity.” Tib turned to Vossk, “Send them a copy of some of Mr. Venrith’s medical files on our patients if you’d please.”

The saurian science officer gave him a confirmatory nod when the packet transfer finished. Silence still from the opposing ship, but they still hadn’t fired yet. Tiberius would take it as a continued sign of positivity. It was all he had the choice to do. If he messaged for help it might signal weakness. He needed to scare them off with the threat of what this thing was doing to their own people. The Rubidoux certainly wasn’t going to scare them off on her own merits. No, if anything would work, it was the threat of being changed into whatever the chrysali in the makeshift triage area were slowly converting the former crew of the previous ship into. 

“Ms. Thorne, back us off, gently. Make it look like your hand slipped on the the controls. Let’s see if we provoke a response.”

“Sir is that wise?” Lorena asked, anxious patterns flashing across her neck and cheeks. 

“No? But I don’t see we have much choice. Our only option at the moment is to move. We’re outgunned. And in our current state we’re mostly set to run. So we may as well try and run and test our luck. Besides, I bet these guys are just as worried about getting their own ick on them as they are trying to stop us. That won’t be an easy task.”

Tib paused contemplatively. “And why make it easier on them. Tactical, can you swing the infected vessel about in front of us and use it as a shield between them and the Rubi?”

Jel’kan bellowed softly in his throat and nodded. “At once.” His talons tapped at his console with neat, sharp clacks. A few beats later the form of the infected vessel swung slowly around till it blocked the view of the other D’Ghor vessel. At this close range, Tib could make out the infection spreading. Like a snake shedding skin, and the younger skin showing through. He wondered how much that analogy would hold when the vessel finished its own metamorphosis. 

“The D’Ghor are backing off to a safe distance but they aren’t leaving.”  Jel’kan reported. 

Tib stroked his beard thoughtfully, squinting at the screen as he studied the information. “That’s ok. You’re curious, and you want what we have, but you’re also shy, because you know what kind of fire we’re handling here. You don’t wanna get burned do you?” he asked of the view screen in a soft voice.

“Sir, who are you whispering to?” Lorena asked.

He turned, and smiled at his XO sheepishly. “Oh no one. Just letting my innie thoughts be outtie thoughts. The important part is we’ve learned a lot from this interaction but we shouldn’t overstay our welcome. Ms. Thorne. If you don’t mind, let’s be on our way. Cautiously.”

“Aye sir, setting course as cautious speeds.” 

The Rubidoux edged her way around the curious D’Ghor ship at half impulse, using the infected vessel as a make shift tower shield to block any potential attacks or advances. Once the Rubidoux got around their interceptor, they poured on the speed. Pushing to full impulse, and then stepping up to warp 1 and scaling up to 5. The hull groaned occasionally and a few yellow state alarms popped up. Tib’s crew read them off and assigned teams to deal with issues as they cropped up, doing their best to put them down. It was tense, and he couldn’t lie, he’d have been happier without anyone coming along to sniff them out. However, there was a chance they could get through this without any unnecessary unpleasantness. 

“You’re hoping to get to the Hopkins without having to engage the D’Ghor aren’t you?” Lorena said, mirroring his own thoughts.

“I’d like to yeah.”

“You obviously have a plan for if they do?”

“Yeah. Swing back and pray. The closer we can get to the Hopkins, the better off we’ll be all around.”

“What do you think the odds are that they’ve picked up the Hopkins?” Lorena asked.

“Well, considering that the rendezvous is outside the triangle, pretty unlikely for the most part, which gives us an advantage.”

“The Hopkins is a research and medical vessel. I doubt they’ll be much tactical help.”

“True. But more ships always has a way of convincing someone to rethink their life choices even if they might hold a tactical advantage. You can only shoot at one ship accurately at a time. Splitting attention and fire can leave you vulnerable. At least, that’s my hope.”

Lorena frowned with a nod. “Not the best plan, but it’s better than fighting on our own.”

“Agreed.”

The tension never bled out of the bridge, with Tiberius and Lorena still standing watching the main viewscreen as it projected a display of the towed vessel and inset window of the unknown vessel following them. Data scrolled on the main screen displaying the numerical distance between the Rubidoux and the towed infected vessel, and also from the Rubidoux to the pursuing craft. Tiberius checked his chrono and frowned. They weren’t going as fast as they needed to, but the ship was having trouble with maintaining its tractor beam lock on the infected vessel without just tearing it apart under graviton sheer at warp speed.

“Commander, notify the Hopkins we have uninvited guests. Let them know it may be prudent if they meet us halfway. Also that they may have to. I’m not sure our soft spoken friends out there will allow us to make the rendezvous uninterrupted.”

Lorena nodded keying in the message on an encrypted channel and sent it. Tiberius stood folding his arms and studied the screen. As if focusing on it hard enough would allow him to read the thoughts of the opposing captain. He’d never shown any telepathic talents. Not that he had any hope at all. His own mother was human, but Kyle and Danny were both the children of his now current mother who was part vulcan.

“What are you up to…” he mused silently.

Having that other ship lurking off their rear end just had the hairs on his neck standing on end. But he had to keep a confident front up for the sake of the crew. Using the infected ship as a shield felt crude, but the crew were in his hangar bay so technically it wasn’t a moral issue. Still, whatever was happening to that ship was leagues away from normal much less possible or even believable. He’d have loved to pour over the information coming in from the sensor feeds, but the ship lacked the resources and facilities to make any proper use of the data. Such discoveries were not for the Rubi to find.

“Captain we may have a problem.” Thorne said.

Tib glanced down at her, “What is it?”

Her hands danced across her console quickly and she pointed to some information on her console. Tib leaned down to take a look and frowned. The other ship was closing in. Slowly but steadily. Not enough to immediately cause alarm, but if you watched the distance numbers close enough, the enemy ship was gaining at a steady clip.

“They’ll overtake us long before we make it to the Hopkins.”

He leaned back studying the main screen. So. They were going to force his hand. That was unfortunate. His brows furrowed as he mused on possible responses. “Maintain speed and heading for now.”

“Captain, our response time to bring up shields and weapons will be considerably longer if we have to engage directly after a warp tow.” Jel’kan said. His reptilian’s eyes narrowed. Tib got the impression he held himself very tense. His mind wanted to go down the rabbit hole of wondering if that was just the way predators typically carried themselves.

“Ok people. Let’s brainstorm. We’ve got a health/environmental crises in our hanger and 200 meters behind us. An unknown vessel in hostile waters that is slowly edging closer. I need options and responses.”

“Do we have to save the ship?” Commander Kael asked.

Tib studied her a moment, “You’re saying cut the dead weight?”

She nodded. “We wouldn’t need to fire a torpedo into it to cause a detonation. It’s inside our warp bubble. We could just beam one over. Detonate its core and deny the other ship the infected vessel. The resulting anti-matter explosion should tend to any potential fall out.”

“Ok. Scuttling it is an option. But a bit extreme. What else?”

“What about projecting sensor echoes? Fool the other ship into thinking there are more vessels? We could force them to back off. Buy ourselves time.” Vossk suggested.

“Crafty. I like it. How would you do it?”

Vossk’s brows knit, not for being put on the spot, but because Tib didn’t know how to do what he was suggesting already. “Rather easily actually. We could use our own sensors to and the deflector dish to create some elaborate false readings. The emissions would confuse the other ships own sensors into thinking it was sensing blurry sensor hits.”

“Like ships in stealth or something?”

Vossk nodded hesitantly, “Or large vessels approaching at high warp. Space time folds in interesting ways and because we’re in the heart of the triangle, ambient emissions will help further conceal any chance of detecting the ruse they might have. In normal space they’d probably know it was a bluff. In here? More difficult to tell. For best odds of success I would recommend doing it just as we hit this stellar nursery nebula in our projected heading.”

A star chart popped up onto the main screen in another inset window showing their flight path as it cut through the bottom edge of a large nebula. Vossk highlighted previous sensor scans of the nebula’s concentration. “The gas composition inside this nebula also contains some heavier elements leftover from the death of a large star. Those heavier elements will act as a natural sensor screen, shielding us from pin point scans. But this will also scramble the effect of our sensor dummies, making it harder for the enemy to determine if they are real or false.” Vossk said.

“Meaning unless someone is looking out the window, they won’t know if it’s real or not?”

“Precisely Captain.”

“Anyone else?”

“We drop out of warp and engage them. Shove the infected vessel into them, and fire on it.” Eliminate both issues at once.” Jel’kan said with his chest out.

“Uh huh. Anyone else got anything that doesn’t involve gratuitous violence?”

He caught the amused smile that Kael kept just barely hidden. No one else responded so he snapped and clapped. “Alright, we’ll go with Vossk’s plan then. Maintain course and speed, Mr. Vossk? Please mark a position where we’ll start our sensor dummies.”

He took his seat and leaned over to Kael, “Sensor dummies. I like it.”

He thought he could hear a deflated Jel’kan grumbling about how much more fun it would be to torpedo the infected ship and watch it blow up the second hostile. He knew it was just bravado though. Jel’kan’s people were as patently aggressive as Klingon’s were. It was only geospatial distance that kept the two peoples from crossing paths else it was likely they’d have warred each other into extinction.

Waypoint Vossk

The Rubidoux reached her designated way point and it was time to execute the ruse. Tib gave his science officer a nod. Lt. Vossk’s hands danced across his console. Occasional clacks issued from his talons while he typed. The goal was to trick the enemy ship into backing off by playing games with their sensor data in an environment where that data couldn’t be trusted.

It wasn’t the best plan or even a big plan, but it was a plan that didn’t require them fighting their way out…yet. Tib wasn’t against it, but he wanted to exhaust his options first. Secretly, there was a part of him that really liked the plan.

“How positive are we this will work?” His XO asked softly.

“I’m not. But Sun Tzu said that all warfare is based on deception. So it feels right to me.”

“Sun Tzu, the ancient philosopher who wrote about war and combat?”

“The same. He laid the foundation for how to think strategically for generations and he was born in a time before man had even mastered electricity. Wild isn’t it?”

“Sometimes I’m amazed humanity could ever leave Earth.”

“You’ll find that’s an oddly common sentiment, commander.”

As the Rubidoux towed the afflicted vessel, something curious happened. As the ships traversed through a stellar nursery, key elements were drawn out and into the vessel. It fed and grew. The sensor games with the other klingon raiding vessel were only marginally successful. They backed off, but they also primed their weapons.

In response, the infected vessel struggled against the Rubidoux’s tractor beam.

“It’s doing what?” Tib asked as the ship shuddered under the sheer.

“It’s pulling on the tractor beam.”

“Like a scared dog…” Tib said. “Drop the beam, cut the ship free.”

“But sir? What if it’s spreading its contamination?” Thorne protested.

“Relax, Lt. We just took this thing on a merry stroll and no one else has sprouted wings. I think whatever is happening, it’s isolated to just the ship and the former crew.”

A security alert pinged at Jel’Kan’s console. He glanced up with a concerned look. “Speaking of the crew. They’ve all been beamed out.”

“We’ll worry about how later. I want to know what’s happening on that ship.”

The image appeared on screen with a tactical overlay in an inset window. The infected vessel formed up alongside the Rubidoux. Like a guard dog.

“They’ve formed up alongside us. What appears to be weapons is powering up. They are targeting the raider vessel.” Jel’kan said with apparent confusion.

“They’re protecting us. Why?”

Vossk’s head tilted thoughtfully. “Perhaps they’ve imprinted upon?”

Tib frowned. Absently his hand stroked his beard a few times. “But are we friend, family, or master?”

“I dislike pets.” Jel’kan offered from his station. The crew couldn’t tell if he was just being honest or making a joke. When he didn’t laugh, everyone simply nodded awkwardly.

“I’m not much of a fan of someone thinking I’m their master either. But for now maybe we can scare off this raider vessel. Open a channel.”

He stood, taking a few steps to address the ship on the main view screen.

“This is the USS Rubidoux, I’m Captain Tiberius Rain. Desist your pursuit or you will be fired on.”

“The Klingon ship has cloaked sir.” Jel’kan reported.

“Status of the infected vessel?”

“Still holding position to our starboard side, weapons armed. It appears to be in a defensive posture.”

Tiberius folded his arms. What an odd array of circumstances. “Commander, your thoughts?”

His XO pursed her lips in thought. “Science thought the ship was transforming the crew into something like cells right? What if the ship is more like a new xenobiological entity. It might have viewed our attempts to tow it free of the nebula as rendering aid. Thus, the positive alignment with us in a hostile encounter.”

“No good deed goes unrewarded?”

“Put crudely, but yes.”

Tib nodded. “That was my assessment as well. Let’s see if we can chat with our new friend? Comm, open a channel.”

“This is Captain Tiberius Walker of the USS Rubidoux.”

There was a long pause and no response. Everyone exchanged uncertain glances, with each other save Tib. He simply waited patiently in the center of the bridge with his arms folded awaiting a reply. Eventually a return signal came back, audio only. It sounded like a chorus of voices. The crew perhaps. It chilled his blood to hear it because it struck too close to the borg to be comfortable.

“I copy you.” It said.

“I… have no name.”

Interesting. A collective hive mind that acted as one, but also processed as one. Perhaps the crew voices were merely mechanical applications of the intelligence driving the ship itself? As if his science officer had read his mind, her hands were already flying across her station running passive scans. He smiled. Good work, he thought.

“We can give you one if you’d like? Are you aware of others like yourself?”

Again a long pause before a single “No.”

“What about Alpha then? In an ancient alphabet of my homeworld it came first. Like you.”

“Alpha.” It repeated, as if chewing on the name. “I like this Alpha.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Alpha. I’d love to sit down and have a more in-depth discussion with you later, but for now, our more immediate concern is the hostile vessel that cloaked itself. Not for a minute do I think they turned tail and ran. If I were a betting man, which I’m not, but if I were, I’d bet they were looking for a weak point they could try to pounce on.”

“You seek to draw them out of hiding.”

“I would prefer that. But they aren’t the type to be interested in a chat.”

“They seek to harm us?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Standby.”

And then the line went silent. This time, Tib shared in the confusion and worry that quickly went around the bridge.

Condition: Red Alert.

Tiberius had taken a seat in the captain’s chair after his XO had wisely rebuked him for standing in the center during a situation that might turn explosive at any moment.

“You’re too right. Safety first.” He’d said after her admonishment.

Now he was settled in and ready for the emergency harnesses to deploy should the ship be rocked violently. Crew safety had been a growing concern in the fleet after a study concluded several injuries resulted from simply being hurled about the deck or having a console or panel explode in one’s face. It was a welcome trend, to be sure.

But sometimes he just wanted to be right there. The eye of the storm. He figured he got that from his old man. The need to be in the thick of it. His father had been a stick jockey flying fighters until they’d promoted him onto a bridge. Tib’s route was a little more direct. But no less effective.

A sensor alert chimed from Vossk’s console and he glanced back at Tib. “The infected vessel is emitting some kind of gas. It appears to be some kind of plasma leak.”

“How did this start?”

“Unknown. It’s as though the ship inflicted a wound on itself.”

Tib leaned back, unable to suppress the wry smirk. His XO noticed the look and leaned over to whisper to him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I think Alpha is trying to be bait the Klingon’s out. It’s showing them a weakness. Giving them what they want.”

“Is that wise?”

Tib shook his head, unsure. “Who’s to say? We’re in uncharted territory here. But let’s play along. Conn. Edge us closer to Alpha, and see about tuning our phaser to a low yield. Make it look like we’re trying to close the wound.”

“But?”

Tib grinned. They were catching on. “But I want you to make a show of it. Tune it too low. Make it look like we’re having a hard time finding the right setting to do job.”

“Sir, if we tune down our phasers too much, that’ll only leave us with torpedos until we can reprime the emitters at the correct output. We’d be tickling them.”

Tib nodded. He had a hunch Alpha was ready for their opponents. “I have faith in our friend out there.”

“This from the man who claims he’s not a gambler.”

“There’s a difference. You’ll figure it out, eventually. Till then? Just follow my lead.” He gave his XO a confident smile.

The Rubidoux had positioned itself to aft of Alpha to administer a fake surgery with its toned down phaser array. An instant later, the calm was shattered by the de-cloaking Klingon vessel as a torrent of green disruptor rounds crashed into Alpha’s hull. The wound knit itself shut alarmingly quirk. Like a bulkhead rolling shut. Less and less of the origin vessel was discernable. It seemed to Tib more like an evolution. As the organic components broke down the origin alloys of the ship and turned the vessel into a living body. His exobiological knowledge was pretty basic, though.

“Mr. Vossk, please continue running scans on our friend during this exchange. Tactical, recalibrate my guns please. Conn, evasive maneuvers.”

“They are phasers, captain. Not guns.”

“Figure of speech, lieutenant. Figure of speech.”

The Rubidoux lurched hard under the sustained volley of fire from the klingon vessel before the ship re-cloaked. Sparks vented from the ceiling panels. The shield held out for now. In response, all seated crew’s emergency safety harnesses deployed, telescoping out and retaining them in their chairs. No more risk of traumatic head and spinal injuries.

The Rubi limped about as Alpha advanced. A twin set of beams fired out of both flanks into the void before a small explosion shimmered the cloaked Klingon vessel back into view. In response a salvo of torpedos hurled out of the raider ships aft launcher.

“Helm, put us between those warheads. Now!”

The Rubidoux repositioned itself with weakened shields, shouldering the brunt of the detonations. Damage Control reports poured into the XO’s console while the Captain, Tactical, and Conn worked to keep the situation in control. In response, Alpha drifted beneath the Rubidoux, and hurled a volley of its own weapons back at the enemy ship, which now could not cloak thanks to Alpha’s attack.

Pressed into continuing the assault, the Klingon raider banked and committed to the attack. Something Alpha appeared to expect. As the raider aimed at the Rubidoux, Alpha hurled a full volley of weapons fire into the stern of the klingon ship. Hull panels peeled loose under muffled explosions as a small cloud of debris formed around them.

The Rubidoux could not recalibrate her phasers fast enough to bring them to bear, leaving the bulk of the offensive lifting to Alpha. An untested and unknown alien entity. With the Klingon threat pacified, that meant there wasn’t any rush to reach the relative safety and aid of the USS Hopkins, so Tib held their position. It would be foolish to let the Klingon’s lick their wounds and run away.

Once they could, he had the ship lock the Klingon vessel in a tractor beam. He was content to leave them on their ship. The amount of damage dealt would mean they weren’t going anywhere soon and there was no need to risk lives in a boarding action so soon. He wanted his people focused on patching up the ship. Just in case something else happened or came up. Always have a plan.

Eventually the Hopkins arrived and with it, the threat of immediate violence if their orders weren’t followed precisely. A fact the Klingons respected, even if it was through grit teeth. There was a brief exchange of supplies, and this gave Tib the opportunity to assess the crew’s mental health. They were roughed up, but they were otherwise fine.

Everyone had done their job. And they did their jobs well. He couldn’t be more proud. The true mark of leadership wasn’t how many ships you defeated. Or how many treaties you signed. Or even how many new worlds or species you discovered. No, that was all just small stuff compared to the one thing that mattered the most.

Your crew. And he was proud to say that his crew was fine. Had the situation gone any other way that statement might not have proven itself out as true. Instead, he could see everyone picking themselves up with a little more pride. They’d saved a life today. Not just any life, but an undocumented and wildly different life from what they knew and commonly accepted as life.

Tib retired to his ready room and sat down with an exhausted sigh at his desk. This was going to be a lengthy report. He just began to type the beginning of the report, preferring to hand jam his words instead of audibly recording a journal for transcription when the door chime jingled.

“Come in.”

It was his Conn officer, Lt. Thorne. “Sir? It’s Alpha. It’s requesting to speak with you.”

“Ah, well, put it through.” He said, gesturing to his desktop terminal.

Thorne shook her head, “Sorry sir, it specifically requested you be present aboard… it.”

Tib grinned. It was about time things got interesting. “Fascinating. Tell Alpha I’d love to. I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”

“Aye sir.”

As he stood up and moved to leave the bridge his XO was falling in step with him.

“Sir, forgive my lack of decorum with my candor, but just what the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m about to have an experience few others can claim.”

“Or you’re walking into a trap.”

He nodded. “That is true. This could all be an elaborate ruse. It’s happened far too often before.”

“So you’re not going to go?” She asked, pausing in front of the turbo lift door.

Tib tapped the summon key. “Oh, I’m absolutely going. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Commander Venrith’s tattoo’d brow knit. “I’m going to file a complaint about your conduct.” She said standing a bit taller.

“Okay, good, but what else? What’s the important part?”

Confusion etched across Sariel’s features. “Sir?”

Tib bit back an amused chuckle. “You said it’s dangerous, which I agree with. But how do you mitigate that risk?”

“That depends on the situation,” she began.

“Okay, good. Go on.” Tib said, gesturing for her to continue.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d request you to take a security escort with you.”

“Which you can’t advise right now on account of the fact that the ship turned into a living animal on account of some kind of strange foreign material outbreak.”

“Right…” Sariel said. “Since the risk is bio contaminant in nature and not a threat of numbers, I’d advise either taking a spacesuit or a hazmat suit. Something environmentally sealed. Just to be sure.”

Tib smiled and nodded. “Then I shall take your advice.”

“O-okay,” Sariel said with a nod, confused at the flow of the conversation. She clearly expected him to take a more adversarial tone, rather than that of a mentor.

‘The bridge is yours, commander. I don’t think this will be long, but all the same? Keep a transporter lock on me the whole time, yeah?”

His trip to the supply room on deck 4 was brief enough, and he was able to sign out a vac suit and get it on pretty quickly. Then he made his way to the primary transport room on the deck. The petty officer at the controls gave him a nod.

“Give the word and we’ll have you back in a flash, sir.”

“I may hold you to that,” Tib said with a grin. He wasn’t afraid Alpha would do anything dangerous, but there was always the chance that there would be some uncontrollable element. Some factor that went beyond anyone’s knowledge or skill. In matters like those, it didn’t matter how many precautions or plans you had. It just boiled down to luck and timing. But planning helped give you more of those. Or at least more wiggle room, he liked to think.

“Energize.”

His vision washed out in white as the transporter began the dematerialization process. An instant later, he was blinking out the blindness inside Alpha. The first of its kind. The interior differed vastly from what he expected of Klingon architecture. No more alloys. Everything was hardened organic compounds and smooth rounded corners. There was a deep, thrumming resonance that pulsed throughout the ship like an energy-based heartbeat.

As he cautiously strode out, part of him wondered if it was the warp core, adapted into some kind of biological equivalents. If that were true, then Alpha would need to consume deuterium, dilythium crystals, and other materials to sustain itself. In a strange way, Alpha had become the peak evolution of technology in a subverted fashion from what the borg sought.

He hoped his vac suit life recorder was taking as many readings as possible and getting a steady recording for the science folks to chew on. He knew they loved their data. And graphs. And tables. He glazed over at the thought and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

“Hello?”

No response as yet.

“This is Captain Tiberius Rain. You’d requested my presence?” I hope not to kill or consume me? He thought in a half joke.

“Captain Rain. Thank you for coming. My… awakening has been somewhat jarring. I remember what I was. Vaguely.” Alpha said. It wasn’t speaking to him through internal coms though, it was broadcasting its voice directly to his suit’s speakers.

“How are we speaking?” Tib asked, unable to curb his curiosity.

“I’ve scanned your life support suit and configured my broadcast spectra to match its output. In effect, I ‘hacked’ your suit speakers.”

“I see. Creative and skilled.”

“Thank you for the compliments.”

“It’s my pleasure Alpha. Thanks for the invite. So what was it you wanted to discuss in private?”

“My future.”

Stood inside the former Klingon vessel that had since become infected by a secret black market weapon that transformed the vessel and its former crew into a massive ship sized living organism, Captain Tiberius Rain was a foreign body within the living vessel. Upon gaining awareness, the creature had taken on the name Alpha with the help of the crew of the Rubidoux. It even helped defend them from a marauding Klingon raiding vessel.

That was earlier that day. Now? Tib was talking about the fate of an entirely new lifeform. It was using a neutral near synthetic voice that was gender neutral.

“Will I be destroyed?”

“I see no reason for that. Nor could I condone it. I’m not in the habit of harming friends.”

“Are we friends?” Alpha asked.

“I don’t see why we can’t be? You protected my ship and my crew at the expense of your own wellbeing when you had absolutely no reason to.”

There wasn’t an immediate response to that by Alpha and Tib wondered if it was trying to figure something out, so he stayed silent to give it the time and mental space to think it out.

“I’m not sure why I defended you and your ship. It just felt… right.”

Tib smiled. “You have the thanks of my crew and myself. The Rubi is tough, but she’s no brawler. That was not a fight we could have won without significant cost.”

“A… friend. I have information on the concept from before I became aware. But I have no context with which to apply the concept. Could you explain it?”

Tib nodded. “Sure, I think?” He took a moment to think about it. A friend is more than just someone you know. There’s usually something about them you like. Perhaps a complimentary aspect to them. Or there’s something in them that you appreciate and want to embody yourself. A friend is someone you’d work a little extra to do something for. Stand up for them when a bully is attacking them, for example.”

“Like an ally?”

Tib nodded but gestured in a half shrug. “Sort of, yeah. But it’s more than that. Allies are kind of formal, but friends can be informal as well. Maybe you sit down and share something of yourself secret. You can be vulnerable with them in a way you wouldn’t trust around others.”

“I see. And you consider me a friend?”

“Of course. You protected my ship.”

“I could manipulate you into a trap.”

“You sure could, and that would definitely force me to reevaluate our relationship. But I don’t see any reason for you to do something like that.”

“Your hypothesis hinges on a lot of faith and not a lot of hard data.”

“Again, I disagree. Fact 1: You’re rather young in this world. Barely a half day old, and yet you possess the intelligence of the computer core you absorbed in your creation. By nature, that makes you infinitely smarter than I. However, it also makes you pretty lonely. You could have been hostile to us from the start, and yet you chose not to be. I’ll posit a question: Why?”

“I lacked data on the situation at the time to draw a reasonable conclusion. You hadn’t caused me harm, and when the other vessel attacked, I knew that statistically, it was unlikely you would manage without aid.”

Tib smiled. “And that brings me to fact number 2. When faced with a situation where you saw someone at a disadvantage, you intervened at your own risk for our sake.”

“Again, you’re making an assumption based on your own world views. This could all be an elaborate ruse to lull you into a sense of false security.”

“Oh, give me some credit, Alpha. I didn’t make it this far in the game without getting my heart broke a few times. But I’ve been around long enough to have a pretty good nose for trouble and I don’t think that’s you. Besides, how many sentient space ships does a guy happen across in his lifetime?”

“I would imagine the statistical outcomes to be near zero.”

“Same here, so why would I try to make an enemy of the first one I find? Besides, like I said. You’re alright in my book.”

“Protecting your ship temporarily seems like poor criteria for friend selection.”

Tiberius shrugged with a chuckle. “You’re probably right. My old man would always complain that I was too friendly. Too eager to make friends.”

“Was he right?”

Tiberius folded his arms and thought for a moment. “No, but he didn’t get to see the entire picture, either. See, I always lead with kindness. But I don’t mind giving the stick if the carrot doesn’t work.”

“I’m unfamiliar with that metaphor.”

“It’s a reward system for behavior. The carrot being kindness. The stick being… well, not kind.”

“I see. You show a casual deception and cunning. The klingons would admire you were it not for the disadvantages of your ship.”

“Eh. Some people’s respect isn’t worth as much as others. I don’t much care what they think about me. But you? Now your opinion matters.”

“Why?”

“Well, because. Part of my mandate is to seek out strange new worlds, new life and civilizations we’ve never found. By definition, you’re part of the mission.”

“Now that you’ve found me, what do you intend to do with me?”

“Well, that’s a question phrased entirely incorrectly. It’s not about what I intend or want. I’m here to discuss what you want. You are life on a scale I can’t even fathom. To me you’re a ship, but alive, and even I know that contextually that’s just factually incorrect. Yet here we are.”

“You make an amusing point. I am unsure of what I want. I know I have needs. Dilithium and deuterium requirements to continue functioning. Raw materials for continued growth. Yet… I am unsure of my place in the greater cosmos. What I am even am.”

“What do you want to be?”

“I am… uncertain.”

“Give it some time. You are only half a day old.”

“12 hours, 21 minutes and 13 seconds. 14. 15.”

Tib chuckled. “And he’s got jokes.”

“He. Am I a… he?”

“Do you want to be?”

“I have catalogued several instances where a vessel is referred to as a she. However, I’m uncertain I feel like a she.”

Tib shrugged. “Your identity is yours to choose. You don’t even need a gender if you don’t want one. If it feels like too much, you don’t even have to decide it. And you’re always free to change your mind. Be who and what you want to be.”

“I think I need time to explore this concept.”

“There’s a lot to explore, and you’ve plenty of time to do it.”

“What will you do?”

“About what?”

“Me.”

Tib shrugged casually again. “Well, there’s obviously some paperwork involved. Reports to fill out. Same old. After that? Who knows? It’s a big galaxy out there with plenty left to go find.”

“Will we meet again?”

“Would you like to is the real question?”

“I would.”

“Then yes, of course. You’ve hailed me before, so you know how to reach me. After that? You need only ask.”

“Will you send for me as well?”

“Sure. I’d be happy to check in and hear from ya.”

“What happens now? Will you need to leave?”

“Sort of. I’ll have to go report back, yeah. But if you’re interested, I’m sure some in the fleet would love to speak with ya if that’s your thing. Or you can go off and find yourself now. The choice is yours.”

Alpha was silent for a long moment. Tib was content to remain quiet and give the being its space to think and process.

“I have many questions and few answers save what you have provided. But I feel I must go find them before I’m in a place to be questioned again.”

Tiberius nodded with a smile. “It sounds like you’re figuring out what you want. I should get back to my ship. Those reports won’t fill themselves out.”

“Thank you, Captain Tiberius Rain. This was both enlightening and pleasant. Until we meet again.”

Tiberius tapped the com-badge on his spacesuit. “Rain to Rubidoux. Beam me home folks.”

After the blinding glare of transport dematerialization and reconstitution, he was in a cargo bay stood inside a laser barrier with a Decon field erected. He sighed.

“Oh. Right. I’d forgotten how much I didn’t miss this stuff.”

A male medical officer, an ensign judging by his rank, smiled apologetically at him.

“Sorry, sir. We’ve had to step up the Devon procedure just in case.”

Tib waved off the ensign’s worry. This was necessary. Besides, he’d put himself into the situation to begin with.

“It’s okay. So how long do I have to sit here?”

“Well sir, the XO said 24 hours of decon treatment should suffice based on observations from previous expeditions and scaled up from data. She left you a data pad and a uniform you could change into. They’ve already been sterilized for use.”

Tib nodded, mildly surprised. “Oh. Nice.”

He began removing the space suit in the designated section. Once he got out of it, he started changing into the clean uniform and sat down. He had plenty of free time, so that meant only one thing. Catching up on paperwork. It wasn’t his most favored thing, but he felt it was necessary to do everything his best to maintain as good an example for others to follow as possible.

He leaned back, putting on some music and began writing his reports. He was most excited about cataloging everything he’d learned from Alpha. It was rare he interacted with a life form no one else had yet. He really felt thankful for being gifted that interaction. In a way, it almost made him feel paternal. As though he was helping to forge something so grossly more intelligent than he was in raw data, but grossly lacking everywhere else.

Another thing that he enjoyed sharing was how well his crew operated. As an XO, he felt Commander Kael was at a point where he felt confident if he took off the training wheels completely. She could take the ship on her own. He was pleased with the progress all of his crew had made. In that pride, though, there was an undercurrent of finality and change. He’d decided to leave the ship finally. This crew was ready. He’d done his job long enough. Now it was time for them to move on and move up.

Signing the promotion recommendation for Kael, and completing his transfer paperwork, he sat back with a contented sigh. Doing it from within Cargo Bay two in the confines of a decontamination grid wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind as a memory of how this leg of his journey aboard the Rubidoux would come to an end, but then, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Life brought him where it would when it decided to. It remained to him to simply enjoy the ride and take in the sights.

“Not a bad run, if I say so myself.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

He glanced up, almost having forgotten the ensign posted to observe him. He smiled and waved the comment away like a bothersome fly.

“Nothing. Just speaking to myself, that’s all. Do you do that any?”

“No, sir.”

“You should try it. I’ve heard it’s the mark of intelligence.”

The ensign smiled sheepishly. “My mom always said only crazy people talk to themselves.”

Tib laughed. An honest and amused laugh. “Well, far be it from me to argue with your mother. She may be right after all. Still, I was just remarking on my time with the ship.”

“I don’t understand, sir?”

Tib smiled with a sage nod. “No, I suppose you don’t. Not yet. You’re young yet. But give it time. Eventually, you’ll figure it out. Tell me more about yourself.”

And so Tiberius passed the remaining time he had to spend in decon speaking with the ensign, and sharing stories with the youth. Knowing his time aboard the Rubidoux was nearly over.

En route to Starbase Bravo…

The cruise back to Starbase Bravo had been a routine affair. They’d said their goodbyes to Alpha, who’d taken off deeper into the nursery to discover itself. The Rubidoux meanwhile had ventured out. It was time to come back and part ways. Once Tib had been cleared of any potential contagion and given the okay to return to duty, he let everyone know of his decision to turn in command of the ship over to Commander Kael, and take a new posting. The command staff were gathered in the small observation room of the ship to congratulate the commander and thank the captain for his time with the ship.

“That’s when I knew, I think. You guys have learned everything from me you can learn. You’ve all heard my Tib’s laws. Hopefully, some of you have taken notes even.”

“They’re more like rules than laws.” Lt. Vossk said.

Tib chuckled. He figured if anyone would quibble with his choice of words, it would be the data driven Vossk. The reptilian’s eyes blinked, unsure why Tib was amused.

“Have I offended you, Captain?”

“Not at all Lieutenant. Enough about me, though, Commander Kael?”

Tiberius gestured to her. Even in the crowded conference room, there was enough space to take the floor.

“Your first comm-”

He was interrupted by the ship rocking violently. The Warp field destabilized, and the ship fell back into normal space time. Everyone glanced back and forth from Kael to himself. Sensing the confusion of a split command, Kael pointed to Tiberius.

“He’s the captain still.” All heads then swiveled to him.

“The bridge.” Tiberius ordered, and everyone filed out as one. Settling into their seats and logging into consoles.

“Status report!” Tiberius ordered.

“We’ve lost warp field stability and we’re currently back in normal space. Our position is roughly a quarter of the way into the trip back. We cleared the nursery but hit something kind of anomaly that’s thrown us out of warp transit.”

“An interstellar speed bump?” Tiberius mused aloud.

The ship rocked again, and several surge breakers burst as power back fed from violent explosions and collapses in the power grid.

“Sir, that was weapons fire!” Thorne shouted at the helm.

“Red Alert, Evasive maneuvers. Who’s attacking us?”

The wounded Rubidoux was once again on its own, and this time with no support. The port nacelle was venting plasma and several of the warp coils were fused from weapons fire. As the damage reports spooled in, Tiberius got the sinking impression this was a premeditated interdiction. When his science officer reported the attack signature matched many of the vessels they had tracked in the Nursery running black market weapons, everything checked out.

“Looks like we’ve pissed off the hornet’s nest. Return fire. Send a distress call to Command. Let them know what’s happening.”

“Beacon deployed.” Vossk said, deploying the emergency beacon while Lt. Jel’kan took to defending the ship. The ship rocked again from another pass of the raiding Klingon vessel, eliciting a flurry of micro explosions that rippled out throughout the Cali. For as good as the ship took a beating, though, she was sorely under-gunned. Able to land a few return hits with her own weapons, the raider clearly had the advantage.

The debris wake that trailed the Rubi was so thick, though, that her helmsman began using it to create an orbital barrier, forcing a standoff with it. Jel’kan continued to press the attack, doing his best to convince the raiders to drop the attack. Unfortunately, the Rubidoux was just too outgunned, and every trick the crew tried to fend off the attack proved partially successful. It only proved to prolong the engagement.

“Hit that ship with everything we’ve got. Jel’kan, don’t spare the torpedos. We’re not worried about pinching resources.”

Jel’kan grinned. “Yes, sir.”

The aft tube hurled a full volley of crimson stars that crashed into the raiding vessel. The resultant explosion crippled the enemy ship’s engines, leaving the two wounded ships traversing in gentle glides away from each other. Drifting away at an angle, the badly damaged Rubidoux left a debris trail of glittering metal and vented gasses.

Inside the ship, the situation wasn’t any better. Life support and power were failing.

“Get to the escape pods and shuttles! Go!” Tiberius ordered.

Commander Kael organized the chaos into something more manageable. Getting the lower ranked officers and enlisted clear and below decks, navigating the maze of still usable corridors and access ladders. Tiberius stood, leaning over the now vacant helm console. He was watching the warp core readouts. Controls were failing, and the ship was going to go critical, eventually. He glared at the console, willing the core to stabilize, but it was beyond reigning back into control at this point. A hand on his shoulder gently pried him free.

“Sir. We have to go. There isn’t much time left before the ship loses anti-matter containment,” his XO said. She made her way to the bridge access ladder and waited at the top. The lift was dead now.

Tiberius lingered. This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to end his last mission on the ship. But then, no one ever got things the way they wanted. He paused at the command chair, touching the headrest with a long expression. The ship deserved a better end than this. He glanced up at the cracked main screen. Much of it just static and snow.

In the center of a spiderweb of broken shards of screen, the Klingon raider drifted away. He was going to find out who these weapons dealers were. Eventually. Crew first, though. Always crew first.

Shimmying down the ladder, Lorena broke into a slow run as they darted through the now empty ship, checking rooms and passageways to make sure there were no stragglers or anyone left behind. They got all clear reports from the rest of the ship as the remaining senior staff piled into the last of the escape pods. In the hangar bay, a shuttle had been kept behind, waiting for him. He tasted bile at the sight, but bit back his distaste and climbed in.

Organizing the escape pods and other shuttles would be easier if he were in the shuttle rather than an escape pod. Tib sighed, unable to counter the fact and strapped in as the shuttle lifted off the deck, not wasting a moment. It cleared the wounded ship and wove through the debris field left in the ship’s wake before falling in with the shuttles and pods.

“The Hopkins reports its on its way back. Anticipated ETA is roughly 15 mikes.” Lorena said, working the console.

Tiberius nodded, wiping sweat and grim from his brow. “Casualties?”

Lorena shook her head. “No confirmed reports yet, but we’re still in the thick of it.”

“Get head counts as soon as you can. Have everyone formed up and proceed clear immediately.”

“Order’s acknowledged.” Lorena said. After a pause, she glanced at him. “Sir… what are we going to do?”

“About what Commander?”

She gestured to the wounded Rubidoux, which was pulling further and further away.

“There’s nothing more we can do. Now we wait for rescue.”

Frustration welled up within him. He should have expected something like this. A reprisal attack or something. Anything. Instead, he just bumbled right into it like a clown. He smashed his fist down into the console several times before Lorena put another calming hand on his arm.

“It’s okay, sir.”

“I know.” Tib said after a long breath to regain his composure. “This is just wasn’t how I wanted to hand the ship off to you.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Excited as I am for my own command, I don’t quite think I’ve learned everything I can from you. Besides, we’ve gotta make this right now.”

“We?”

She nodded. “I don’t see you letting this go easily. If you’re going to go after them? I want in. The whole crew does.”

Tib nodded. “Somehow I have a feeling command won’t be inclined to allow many transfers out.”

The assemblage of escape pods and shuttles continued along until the USS Hopkins arrived to pick them up. It took several hours to get the crew checked through sickbay for injuries. Tiberius couldn’t be more proud. Fatalities had been kept to a minimum, with only a handful dead, most from unavoidable fates like a detonating plasma coupling, or blown relay.

The ride back to Starbase Bravo was more solemn for both the crew of the Hopkins and the Rubi’s crew. Arrival back saw the command staff inundated by debriefings and reports. Eventually, once they were all okayed for a return to duty, the decision was made to reassign a New Orleans class that had just finished its 10 year refit cycle. From Starbase Bravo’s Conference room B, the command staff watched the powered down ship being towed out of dock.

The mood in the room was optimistic. In Tib’s case, he was eager. He’d spent so long in the California class that a change of scenery was novel. He wasn’t sure but he was positive his old man had spent time serving on a New Orleans class.

“It’s a kind of irony that the Rubidoux would transition to a New Orleans class.” Tiberius said during a lull in conversations.

“Oh?” Commander Venrith said, striding over to listen.

“Louis Rubidoux was from St. Louis, which was part of the original territory the French claimed that made La Louisiane. Eventually, there were wars and territorial handovers that separated St. Louis from the rest of the French territory of Louisiana, but you could argue that Louis Rubidoux has come home to his roots.”

“To home.” Commander Kael said, toasting him. The others chimed in and held their glasses up.

“As fine a statement to toast as any.”

“Captain Rain?” his combadge chirped. Tapping it, he addressed the page. “Rain here, go ahead.”

“Sir, the Rubidoux is ready for you. Shall I beam you aboard?”

Tiberius glanced across the faces of his command staff. What had started as a transient training wheels crew had grown into something of a mainstay crew. No more venturing off to real postings. This was it now. A genuine sense of change had settled over them, and everyone nodded affirmatively. They were ready.

“Bring us home, chief.”

Tib and Lorena strode shoulder to shoulder through the corridors of the ship, taking in their new posting. Tib was unable to mask his excitement any longer, beaming eagerly as they strode. He caught Lorena giving him an amused look. He sighed, biting back a smile.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Nothing, you just looked like you were uncharacteristically eager.”

“Hey, I can be very eager when the mood strikes.”

“I’m sure.”

“Favorite thing about the ship so far. Go.”

Lorena looked around uncertainly. “I’m not sure I could say? I’ve only seen the transporter room and some of the corridors?”

“Come on. Pick something. Anything.”

She sighed and glanced around, looking for the anything. “The flooring.” She said.

Tib’s brow arched curiously. “I give you a wide open question like that, and you come back with, the flooring?”

“What?! Its nice and soft. The California was a little harder on the feet. By the end of the day my ankles were sore. This floor feels nice and soft. And I’ll bet the deck plating on Deck 2 doesn’t give that weird near earth g feel when your walking on it. I can’t tell you how many times I almost tripped on that deck.”

Tib laughed. “Okay. Fair points all around. Deck 2 took some adjusting your gait to. I’ll miss that. Poor Dex never got to look into that before the ship was destroyed.”

“From what I understand, he probably would have just saluted the explosion if he could have. He enjoyed fixing things, but he hated what he liked to refer to as gremlins.”

They entered a turbo lift and rode for a short period. When the doors whisked open they found themselves on a small bridge modeled in the same design style as that of the Galaxy class. Lorena gestured for him to go first.

“Go on. It’s still your command, after all.”

Tib nodded, striding onto the bridge for the first time and inhaling deeply. He could smell the carpet cleaning solution. The polish on the furniture and paneling. The cleaning agents on the console surfaces. It had that new bridge smell. Something few captains got to experience in their careers.

He found the copper dedication plaque on the wall and traced his fingers over it.

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS
STARSHIP U.S.S. RUBIDOUX
NCC-65334

New Orleans-Class Starship

Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, Mars

Dedication: “With strength and spirit, we sail beyond the stars.”

“Oh, this one’s going to be fiesty, isn’t she?” Tiberius mused to himself softly as he traced his fingers of strength and spirit.

“Sir?”

Tib turned, “Nothing. Just remarking on the ships build is all.”

“Not bad for a New Orleans class.”

Tiberius strode to the captain’s chair and took a seat. The leather creaked and smiled a little. It always pleased him to hear that sound. Like the ship was shaking his hand and welcoming him back. He traced a hand along the side console built into the chair.

“It’s been too long.”

Lorena was walking the perimeter of the bridge. No doubt counting how many strides she could take in case she was blinded or something tactically crazy.

“It’s only been a few weeks.” She said over the tactical console.

“That’s plenty long enough.”

“Shall I give the word to recall the crew for duty?”

“Send it.” Tib said with a smirk.