Sparks flew from the control panel, and Chief Engineer Carrick, flat on her back underneath as she rifled around its innards, gave a loud oath that bounced around the Ranger’s bridge. ‘Blasted – damn – fuck -’

Ensign Vhalis popped his head down to check in on her. He’d been hovering near his console since she started to work on it. ‘Did you just de-censor yourself, Gwen?’

‘Yes, Vhalis, I’m fine, Vhalis,’ grumbled Ensign Carrick, and sucked singed fingertips. ‘Thanks for asking.’

‘How’s progress, Ensign?’ Across the bridge, Commander Octavian’s voice rang out, pointed at both the delay and the need for decorum.

‘Fine, Commander.’ Carrick’s teeth were gritted. ‘Vhalis, pass me the smaller hyperspanner. I’m going to need to replace this surge suppressor.’

‘I knew there was some harmonic resonance feedback from riding that subspace pocket,’ said Vhalis triumphantly, taking longer than he might to pass over the hyperspanner, so focused was he on being right.

‘Yes, you’re very clever…’

A chirrup from Tactical was almost missed in the back-and-forth, but Commander Xhakaza noticed it, twisting in his chair as Ensign Jeream read whatever had flashed across his console. The broad-shouldered young officer frowned.

‘Des?’ Xhakaza tilted his head at Jeream.

‘We’ve got a distress call coming in, sir. I was trying to verify it, but, uh…’ Des Jeream waved a vague hand at the state of their science console to encompass their general sensor issues. ‘Romulan Republic survey ship, calling themselves the Yoribu. Claiming they’re under attack from… Klingons?’

‘How far out?’ said Xhakaza, standing up.

‘Trying to narrow that down…’

‘Based on signal degradation,’ said Lieutenant Sovak in his usual clipped tones, ‘approximately point-seven of a light-year. Approximately seventeen minutes away at top speed.’

Vhalis had moved to the mission control station behind Xhakaza and Octavian, but still gave an apologetic shrug. ‘I can’t confirm anything until our lateral sensor array is back up and running.’

‘Working on it!’ came a muffled grunt from Carrick. ‘We’ve got the readings, they’re just not synchronising or integrating with the core for us to access them.’

‘If we have a vague heading, set us a course, Sovak,’ said Xhakaza. ‘Let’s go help these people. Gwen, you’ve got seventeen minutes to give us eyes.’

Octavian was on her feet beside him, dropping her voice so it wouldn’t carry over the low hum of the Ranger accelerating to warp under Sovak’s commands. ‘If Klingons are targeting a Romulan ship, we should assume they’re not afraid to take a swing at us, either, sir.’

Xhakaza’s brow furrowed. ‘You’re right,’ he said, and raised his voice. ‘Take us to red alert.’

Octavian’s shoulders relaxed an iota as the bridge descended into the gloom of battle stations. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I still don’t want or expect a fight. We’re going to have a better chance talking Klingons into standing down if we arrive with a show of strength. Anything less risks insulting them.’

‘And if we have to bloody their noses?’

Xhakaza gave her a sidelong look and offered his reassuring smile. ‘One step at a time, Commander.’

Twelve minutes later, Gwen Carrick pulled herself out from under the science console. ‘We should have eyes, Captain,’ she said, and again sucked on singed fingertips.

‘I got it,’ said Vhalis triumphantly, not yet returning to his post. ‘Oh, boy, that’s a whole backlog of sensor feeds -’

‘Scanning our destination,’ cut in Jeream, always a little more focused on the work. ‘No sign of any ships, Romulan or Klingon.’

‘These are both ships which could have cloaking devices,’ reminded Octavian. ‘We should begin sweeping for neutrino emissions.’

‘Right!’ said Vhalis, sweeping back over to the science console.

‘Except,’ said Sovak, ‘high levels of neutrino emissions have been persistent throughout the sector following the localised usage of Borg transwarp. Advise we filter for -’

‘It’s a long shot to assume we’ll pick up a device entirely designed to stay hidden,’ said Xhakaza. Vhalis was prone to bickering when he felt Sovak was stepping on his area. ‘Focus on the environs, make sure we’re even heading for the right place. Des, have there been any more messages?’

‘Not after the first. They may have gone to ground.’

‘They might have been blown up,’ pointed out Carrick.

‘Let’s have a little hope, everyone.’ Xhakaza raised his voice. ‘Not because it’s nice, but if we give up now, we don’t know what we’ll miss. Who we won’t save.’

They had been out on the edges of the Midgard Sector, the far-flung reaches where former Star Empire and current Republic territory started to meet regions nobody had ever claimed, mapping out the edges and impacts of the Borg transwarp catastrophe that had ravaged regional subspace. A Klingon ship wasn’t as far out from the Empire here. They were truly on one of the more unknown frontiers of the quadrant.

But that meant Thabo Xhakaza wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. So when Sovak reported they were only a minute out, he sat back down in the Ranger’s command chair, leaning on the armrest. ‘Etol, anything?’

Vhalis shook his head moments later. ‘We can see, alright. But there’s nothing there.’

‘We are exiting warp now,’ called Sovak.

‘On screen.’ Xhakaza sat forward, and for a moment, he could see nothing but the cosmos stretching before him and his ship. Then a star winked out for just a moment, and another, and he realised what he was seeing.

‘I’m picking up debris,’ reported Jeream. ‘It matches the profile of a Republic survey ship. It looks like it’s been completely destroyed.’

‘Scan the wreckage,’ ordered Octavian. ‘See if you can determine what caused this.’

‘Detecting traces of highly-charged plasma on the hull panels,’ said Vhalis after a beat. ‘Significant levels of lingering antiprotons.’

‘It could be Klingon weapons,’ Jeream agreed.

Sovak turned in his chair. ‘These reports merely align with damage that would be inflicted by disruptor fire.’

‘Agreed,’ said Xhakaza, drumming his fingers on the armrest. ‘It could be Romulan weaponry. It could be an accident. Keep scanning our environs for any sign of someone out there, Etol. Des, see if you can pick out any systems components that might have survived – see if there’s computer records or… something.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Jeream. ‘Shall I stand us down to yellow alert?’

‘No,’ said Octavian before Xhakaza could speak. She flashed him an apologetic glance but did not stand down. ‘If this was an attack, whoever did it might be nearby and cloaked. Let’s not make ourselves an ambush target.’

Xhakaza was reading the sensor scans on his armrest’s display and accepted this with an unhappy nod. ‘Agreed. After all, there’s no indication of any life-signs, any survivors. This isn’t a rescue mission. This is an investigation.’

Vhalis blew out his cheeks, still focusing on his work. ‘Why would Klingons just blow up a Republic survey ship?’

Carrick scoffed. ‘Do Klingons need a reason?’

‘Easy, Ensign. The Empire are our allies and friends,’ Xhakaza reminded gently.

‘Sure,’ said the surly engineer with a shrug. ‘But so are the Republic. So I guess it comes down to: do the Klingons like us more than they hate Romulans? I don’t expect so.’

‘I’d like to think,’ said Xhakaza, ‘decades of standing side-by-side through peace and war has won us a little regard. It’s worked for us so far.’

He still exchanged a small glance with the guarded Octavian as the bridge settled into quiet work, studying the final resting site of this ill-fated Romulan ship, and knew she was thinking the same thing he was, an unusual development between the optimistic captain and his cynical XO.

So far. But how far does that stretch?