Swirling clouds of high density plasmatic energy wouldn’t normally be enough to warrant the presence of a ship as advanced as the Hypatia, but combined with increased subnucleonic radiation, high levels of static discharge and pockets of ionised gas, the recent change in the Vadlox Nebula had piqued the curiosity of Starfleet enough to draw the Sutherland-class research cruiser from its role in the quarantine of the Quasaris Sector. Analysis of the gaseous anomaly had been ongoing since the conclusion of the Deneb conflict, with a near constant presence of starships along the shared border with the Breen using it as an excuse for justifying their patrols of the area.

“Sending a dedicated science vessel out here without an escort is a considerable risk,” Lieutenant Italia Ruas frowned, arms folded across her chest, planted feet helping her to rock the chair at the Ops station from side to side while she stared at the restless clouds that encircled them, casting an eerie glow across the bridge. Her thick accent always came out to play when she was angry or concerned about something, just as it did here.

“Starfleet seems to disagree,” Commander sh’Elas responded, glancing across at her Italian colleague from her position behind the helm. “There is no threat out here, Lieutenant. Afterall, no one in their right mind would be out here right now,” the Andorian gestured to the screen. Right on cue, another flash of plasmatic lightning lit up the viewer.

“Yet here we sit,” Maddie bit back from the CONN, her eyes glued to the navigation systems, prepared to withdraw the behemoth from her observation point at a moment’s notice.

“And here we’ll stay,” the Captain responded from his seat at the heart of the bridge, smiling playfully as both XO and Operations chief alike glared at him. “At least until Onsas says otherwise,” he added with a nod of the head towards his science chief.

“Whilst the nebula is exhibiting strange characteristics, I don’t believe there is any danger to us should we proceed further into the gas cloud,” Commander Onsas D’orr turned from the station, the hulking brute looking towards the command team at the front of the bridge. “Our analysis might benefit from being a little deeper,” he shrugged a hopeful shoulder.

“Maddison?” Giarvar practically jumped from his chair at the science officer’s suggestion, skipping down the few steps to stand next to his first officer. “What do you think?”

“I’d rather we didn’t,” the helmswoman grimaced, hands dancing across the LCARS controls. “But if we do, I’d recommend no more than another hundred thousand meters or so. Anymore than that and we could be in trouble if something unpleasant shifts. We’re not as nimble as a Pathfinder or a Grissom, ya’ know.” She looked the Captain briefly in the face and knew from his optimistic expression that she wasn’t likely to win this one.

“How does that impact our exposure to the nucleogenic radiation?” Tharia asked, looking back across her shoulder to the brown-skinned Xelliat.

“Minimal additional exposure,” Onsas answered, “we’d still be within the Doctor’s safety levels.”

Anticipating the Captain’s response, Italia let out a sigh and turned back to her station. “Adjusting power distribution network to boost the shield grid,” the Italian said.

“What are you doing to my shields?!” a voice called out from the back of the bridge, its owner swiftly making her way to the tactical operations wall on the starboard bulkhead.

Spinning on his heels and making a beeline back to his command chair, the Captain looked across at Commander Peri. “We’re going deeper,” Giarvar grinned as he took his seat.

Peri slumped into her chair, shooting a disapproving look at the Captain, but to no avail. She, like the rest of the crew, had quickly learnt that when their new commanding officer had made his mind up, there was no changing it.

Maddison Burton, Kauhn’s FlightOps chief aboard the Buran before transferring to Hypatia, understood his words to the tactical chief to be orders, and began the procedure to move the mighty hulk of the cruiser further into the nebula. “Ahead one-quarter impulse power,” she announced to the crew, sticking to the same speed that had brought the ship into the nebula a few hours earlier.

Forward momentum began to increase at a leisurely pace, the transition from all stop to moving at one quarter impulse was probably smoother than most of the crew had experienced having come from older vessels. One of the joys of serving on one of the class of 2400 starships was that everything worked seamlessly, smoothly. Within minutes, the science cruiser had travelled to the maximum distance her helmswoman had recommended, and already the additional readings were proving fruitful. And thoroughly supported the earlier analysis that if they went any further in, there would be trouble. It hadn’t taken long for tremors to grip the ship every few minutes, to the point that the crew hardly began to register them anymore thanks to the superior inertial dampeners she was fitted with.

With the rest of the crew distracted with their investigations of the stellar phenomenon, one would have been forgiven for thinking the Chief Tactical Officer would be far from busy, but on this occasion, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Whilst everyone else scurried about their business, reading data packets and analysing readings, Commander Peri had returned herself to the task that had kept her from the bridge earlier in the day. A task she had been assigned by the Captain no less.

Something across the Federation was stirring, and people were at risk. Again. It seemed like people were always at risk these days: first the Romulans; then it was the Breen-Dominion Alliance; and then nefarious Changelings and Borg infiltration had risked the entire quadrant. Now something else was threatening the Federation, but it seemed no one had any real answers as to what it could be. Several Starfleet vessels had been reported missing, and that was just in locations across the Alpha Quadrant, it was unknown how many had gone missing in other areas. According to sensor readings and accessible ship’s logs, one minute the ship’s were there, the next, gone. She’d been set the task of analysing what she could get her hands on, to see if there was any rhyme or reason to the disappearances, but so far she had hit a dead end. Even after enlisting the computer’s help to delve into possible patterns and anomalies, she’d so far turned up not…

Hang on. Something on one of her displays caught her eye, drawing her attention to the larger of her monitors. On it, she had a display of all Starfleet vessels within extreme sensor range, using what bandwidth she had been permitted by the Operation’s chief. At first, she wasn’t sure if it was a glitch or not, but after a few attempts at recalibration, she glanced harder at the display. Something had occurred right on the edge of sensor range, near to… wait a second…

“What the hell…” she whispered, moving closer, almost in a state of disbelief.

‘Incoming transmission via secured channel…’

Words in bold, red lettering flashed on her screen, almost causing her to fall backwards and out of her seat. She glanced over her shoulder and could see the Captain engrossed in conversation with the XO about something mission related, so she decided to press on. Rubbing the ridges on her nose with one hand, she input her command codes with the other. Its contents did not make for light reading.

“Captain…” she called out, spinning in her chair at the last second, to find the Trill (and his Andorian counterpart in command) staring right at her. “We’ve lost another one…”

“Sensors confirmed it several minutes ago,” the holographic form of the Lakota Squadron’s Commander told her former XO as she paced across the limited space in Hypatia’s observation lounge. “Adriatic was conducting a survey on the edge of the Black Cluster, within Deep Space Eleven’s sensor perimeter when she just vanished,” the Trill told.

Nothing like a good crisis to bring people back together, and after the tension of the last month, it was nice for Giarvar to see his former mentor again. They hadn’t parted on good terms after his promotion to command of the Hypatia, but the tragedy of Or’uil’s passing had got them talking again, and now this, whatever ‘this’ was, had them both worried.

“How many does that make it so far?” Kauhn asked, slumped in his chair at the head of the observation lounge table, hands clasped together and resting on his chest.

“In our region?” Nazir stopped and turned to look at her Trill brethren, hands on her hips. “Thirteen. Twelve with no warning, no alerts, just… gone.”

Planting his feet on the decking before him, Giarvar turned his chair from side to side slowly, the rhythmic rocking helping his mind to wander and contemplate questions. When he had formulated one, the rocking stopped. “What about unlucky number thirteen?” He sat forward. “You said only twelve vanished with no warning. What happened to thirteen?” 

“The Collegiate?” the Fleet Captain’s brow furrowed. “According to an intercepted log there was something about a possible lightning storm in space? But there was nothing to substantiate it,” she elaborated. While she spoke, Giarvar’s expression changed enough that she took a holographic step closer to her former subordinate. “What? What is it?” she asked.

“It could be nothing,” Kauhn lied, the look on his face suggesting even he didn’t believe his last statement, “but we’ve detected lightning-like phenomenon as a recent change within Vadlox. No explanation, for it. Frequent, yet intermittent. Random,” he lifted his hand to his chin and began rubbing it.

“What are you going to do?” Nazir asked.

“What we’re out here to do,” the junior Trill answered, “study and research the phenomenon and its changes.” His answer wasn’t very convincing.

“Whatever you do Number One,” the look of concern on the Fleet Captain’s face was sincere, “please be careful…” she bowed her head and let out the smallest of smiles.

Giarvar appreciated the term of endearment meant that they were on their way to having their friendship restored to normality. And it made him smile in return. “Always ma’am,” he retorted as he rose to his feet. “We’ll be in touch if we find anything.” A shared nod of acknowledgement later and the hologram faded from existence.

Slouching back into his seat, he allowed his mind to wonder once more, only the rumbling of the deck plating beneath his feet keeping him tethered to the here and now. Surely the lightning phenomenon supposedly reported by the Collegiate was nothing more than a coincidence? Such a phenomenon inside a nebula wasn’t unheard of, or uncommon even, but what concerned him the most was the change in the nebula’s behaviour to cause that phenomena. Perhaps he was making a bigger deal of this than he needed to? He’d seen plenty of lightning storms in space during the Century Storm crisis, for example, but he’d learnt to trust his instincts since he’d taken the mantel as XO to Captain Gor, and later, Nazir. He’d never been let down by them before. When those instincts spoke to him, he listened.

Pulling himself forward, he placed his left hand on the glass surface in front of him, fingers drumming almost absentmindedly as he pondered his next move. One thing he had learnt from Nazir during his time as her XO was that it was never wise to keep one’s XO out of the loop on anything, let alone developments that could impact one’s mission. Thus, he allowed his drumming fingers to dance to the table controls and opened a channel to the bridge.

“Number One,” he called into the comm, “could you come in here please?”

Within a matter of seconds, the dutiful Andorian appeared at the doorway and made her way inside. “Everything alright?” she asked him, her antenna dipping when she saw the look on his spotted face.

“Take a seat Tharia,” the Trill gestured to her usual spot at the table.

sh’Elas let out a heavy sigh as she pulled out her chair and took a seat at the table. First names were in play, and from the Captain that meant only one thing…

She wasn’t going to like what he had to say.