—- USS Luna, Bridge —-

“We’ve cleaned up the area,” the Klingon who had introduced himself as Klar grinned.

Commander Olivia Carrillo wanted to punch him in the nose, “Our Captain and doctor was onboard.”

Klar frowned, “Cruz?”

“Cruz,” Carrillo said and then not knowing what else to say cut the transmission.

“We go in after them,” she said to the bridge and most nodded, supportive of the decision to throw caution to the wind and go after their captain.

The Vulcan scientists who had been assigned to the ship to study the anomaly very slightly frowned. It was almost imperceptible but though she was not telepathic Carrillo sensed their disappointment before they voiced it,  “We do not have readings back from the probe we sent into the anomaly. We should wait until we have readings back.”

“I’m getting back our captain any objections other than that,” Carrillo asked, eying Pr’Nor, wondering if the Vulcan helm officer would side with the logical Vulcan scientists.

“The ship operates optimally with its captain,” Pr’Nor said, a polite way of registering her support for the plan to throw logic aside and charge into the unknown blindly.

“Take us in, full impulse,” Carrillo said.

The USS Luna banked and passed the Klingon Negh’Var-class as it entered the swirling colourful mass. Carrillo felt the world warp around her and then the space she knew vanished as the Luna was pulled forward as if it had been pushed down an icy hill.

They seemed to be traveling along a kind of tunnel of sub space, and she ordered every possible scientific test to be conducted. The two Vulcans bent over their science stations and began to work.

“Commander part of the warbird is coming at us, in debris,” the Chief of Security Lieutenant Jara reported.

“Shields up,” Carrillo said and suddenly their field of view on the viewscreen was littered with blackish green pieces of metal as the back half of the warbird hit them in chunks. It was like being in an asteroid storm and they all could hear metal scrapping the hull, the shields the only thing protecting them from devastation of their own.

It was about an hour before it passed, and the Luna continued on speeding to whatever its destination was.

— USS Luna,  Tranquility Base Lounge —-

Commander Olivia Carrillo looked up from her coffee to see Chief Counselor and the temporary First Officer Yuhiro Kolem enter the lounge. The counselor got herself an energy drink of some green concoction and sat down across from Carrillo so that they were both positioned to see out the expansive window onto the scene outside the ship.  They shared a moment, watching it.

The scene was unlinks anything they’d seen. Despite taking a short cut, as it were, across known space and potentially beyond it, it seemed like they were barely moving. Carrillo knew that humans, and other races, were easy enough to fool into thinking that they were moving or not. Starships travelled faster than you could really wrap your head around and yet unless you looked out a window it felt like you were motionless on the Luna. Yet you could barely be moving on the holodeck and through careful visual trickery think you’d fallen from a mountain or had skydived.

There was nothing in the anomaly to really track their progress, not like stars in warp normally. Colours swirled by, but not in any particularly consistent direction. Space looked as if it was bending into itself and to try to understand it seemed quite complicated and perhaps impossible like an  painting by Escher where stairs seemed to twist upon themselves defying even Vulcan physics.

“You ready to be my First Officer,” Carrillo asked the Lieutenant finally.

Kolem laughed, “No, not really. But I don’t suppose I have a choice.”

“How is the crew?” Carrillo asked, adding, “I got some stick from the science team for leaping before looking.”

“They’ll be fine. I’ve had two Captains since the academy, Captain Hawthorne and Captain Cruz. Hawthorne always cared that everyone understood he knew what he was doing. Cruz learned on the job, and she let you know that. People want to save her, they’re loyal to her, and so you being loyal isn’t a bad thing,” Kolem said, “And as long as your honest about it, you don’t need to know everything.”

Carrillo nodded, “I may have gotten us more stranded than Voyager.”

Kolem shrugged, “Records are meant to be broken. Besides we have a better ship.”
 

—- D’deridex-class Warbird, Bridge —-

“We have lost over seven hundred officers,” the tactical officer reported.

The entire ship had the feeling of a crew trying not to panic. If it had been her own crew Captain Cruz would have been proud at how well they were holding it together. A majority of the ship was lost, and by all reports power was in short supply.

“Consolidate all remaining crew to the bridge and surrounding rooms, we’ll conserve life support,” Commander Sibolv said. They were, as far as sensor readings could tell, in a corridor of energy flying from one place to another. Yet without studying they had no idea where they were going they were just being pulled along, shorn from their propulsion systems.

“T’Rala, see to the wounded,” Cruz ordered to be helpful, though in all honesty she knew the medical officer would have done so anyway.

“Yes Ma’am,” Doctor T’Rala nodded heading off to treat the Romulan survivors.

It took some doing but soon the bridge was packed with Romulans, many suffering cuts and burns from the attack and subsequent damage to the ship. They rested in shifts, not that there was anything to be done but Sibolv (reasonably in Cruz’s view) wanted posts manned anyway.

Cruz finally lay down on a spot on the floor and closed her eyes, trying to catch a few hours of sleep. She awoke to a commotion.

“We’ve exited the anomaly, we’re trying to determine where we are,” Doctor T’Rala explained to the Captain helping her to her feet. Cruz tugged at her uniform to straighten it.

“Stars match nothing in our charts,” a Romulan reported from a station.

Sibolv nodded, “Captain Cruz do you recognize anything?”

Cruz glanced at the viewscreen and shook her head, “I don’t have the Luna’s stellar catorgraphy memorized but the stars don’t look like those from Earth.”

“There is a planet, class M,” the science officer(?) reported, and on the screen a large planet loomed.

Sibolv nodded, “Prepare to abandon ship.”

“Is that wise?” Cruz asked.

“I don’t have an engineering bay, we’re surviving on batteries that will burn out in a few days. With no propulsion we’re not making it to another planet, so if this one supports life we have no choice,” Sibolv said, clearly not accustomed to being second guessed on his own ship.

Not able to argue with that logic Cruz nodded and headed to an escape pod along with Doctor T’Rala and a team of Romulans.
 

—- USS Luna, Briefing Room —-
 

“We seem to be in underspace,” the Vulcan scientist said.

“Underspace?” Commander Carrillo asked, and repeated.

Sverin nodded, “By agreement with the Turei Starfleet has been using it to explore far away reaches of the universe. This however is a new fissure, and we do not know if it is stable.”

“Were does it lead?” Carrillo asked.

“We do not know, as you did not wait for the probe to report back,” Sverin pointed out.

“Damage to the ship?” Carrillo asked Chief Engineer James Young.

“We have a lot of damage from the debris we flew through, but the Luna-class is meant to be repaired on the go. So I’ll have to handle it. But right now weapon systems are down as are communication,” Young said, adding, “Repair time might be a few weeks though.”

Chief of Security Lieutenant Jara shook her head, “We may need weapons before that. We don’t know who’s back yard we’re going to, and our last readings from our side of this… whatever… showed the Klingons starting to follow us. It stands to reason that they want to finish the job.”

“No firing on the Klingons, but yes I’d rather deal with them fully armed and ready to negotiate than unarmed,” Carrillo said. She sighed. It was clear that she may have jumped to fast but the life of the Captain was at risk. Now though they might have just committed the lives of the full crew to this cause.

Turning to Chief Science Officer Gabriella Miller she said, “Miller find out what your team can about this portal. Why’d it suddenly open and how long can we rely on it to get home. Young, get the Luna working. Jara we don’t know what’s waiting for us, but we need to be ready. Okay team dismissed.”

Leaving Captain Cruz’s Ready Room the First Officer nodded to the pilot, “Lambert walk with me. You’re off duty now?”

“I am Ma’am,” Lambert said. Though they were engaged they had agreed to follow the rigorous rules of their roles while on duty.

In the turbolift Carrillo sighed, visibly deflating, “I made a mistake Pierre.”

He shrugged, “You did what you thought right in the moment to save a friend, your captain, and a crew member. We don’t know if it’s a mistake yet. Besides I’ve been reading about the USS Voyager, I’m anxious to try slowly to get home from far away.”

“You’re too optimistic sometimes,” Carrillo said.

“I got thrown into the future, another part of the universe doesn’t scary me,” Lambert said.

—- Planet Surface —-

There were emergency supplies, including cold weather gear in the escape pod. Captain Cruz distributed it to the Romulans, and then put on her own coat from the stock stuffing the pockets with emergency flares and rations. She grabbed one of the survival kits and followed the others out of the hatch.

“How many do we have?” Commander Sibolv shouted, his pod had arrived a few minutes before. About ten dotting the landscape nearby.

“We have just under one hundred survivors thus far,” the man, who Cruz had assumed was a science officer, reported.

“An entire D’deridex-class warbird and we have one hundred survivors?” Sibolv cursed, saying a word that was untranslatable from Romulan.

“It’s about Fate’s Mother,” T’Rala said to Cruz quietly.

“We should move,” Cruz said, “Find shelter, we have a few days worth of rations, but not much else.”

“Take what you can from the pods and let us go, towards those hills,” Sibolv pointed.

The group fell into a long line two abreast as they headed across ice fields. Cruz found herself having to carefully pick out her steps, not wanting to be the one that fell or lagged back.

“So you got a new ship while I was away,” T’Rala asked, eager to talk to a human again, and catch up.

“Yeah the USS Luna, have you seen a Luna-class?” Cruz said.

“No, I’m used to the Rhode Island-class and Galaxy class,” T’Rala said.

“Same over all style to a Galaxy class but smaller inside,” Cruz said.

“I don’t love these new ships without carpeting,” T’Rala observed.

Overhearing the doctor and the human captain talking about the interior decorating of Starfleet ships Sibolv scoffed, “Who cares about carpeting.”

“I’m sorry if everything isn’t sharp and pointy like on a Romulan ship,” Doctor T’Rala said.

“Function over form,” Sibolv said.

“And whose ship just blew up,” Cruz asked.

The Romulan commander made another untranslatable statement about the Klingons and marched to the front of the line leaving the Starfleet Captain and her Romulan doctor to themselves for now.