“Captain’s log. Stardate, 2401.911. The Blythe has received urgent orders from Starfleet Command to investigate and secure a newly discovered aperture on the outer edge of Beta Quadrant, a recurring phenomenon in what Starfleet has described as a larger ‘Underspace’. A number of ships have already been lost, relocated, or scuttled, and a great many of our adversaries also transported, seemingly at random all around our galaxy. My concerns regarding our lack of armaments should a combat situation arise were nullified by command, concerns which I still yield. Nevertheless, I have the upmost confidence in our new crew, of which I am, already, most proud.”

They say pride is a sin, no?

USS Blythe, Bridge

Captain Rutledge stood in the middle of the bridge, facing the viewscreen, his hands held tightly behind his back. His gaze shifted back and forth a number of times, glancing every so often to the Helmsman’s viewscreen, displaying a more detailed readout of their flight path, furrowing his eyebrows each time as he did so, then casually walked back to his chair.

“Time?’

Matthews, leaning over the helm, looked back at Rutledge. “3.2 minutes until arrival, Sir.”

“Any significant readings from the aperture at this distance?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s emitting faint and unstable subspace frequencies, unfamiliar to our scanners.” V’liv answered from her workstation, her eyes locked firm on her screen. “It could be some form of communication, althou-”

“-I doubt it. Keep me updated on any changes.” Rutledge nodded lightly in her direction, solemnly, taking seat in the center chair.

He eyed the other officers. As focused as they were, they held their heads high with a quiet rigidity and confidence. There was a dwelling an anticipation in the air, but hardly any fear. They were more experienced than most California-class crews, and certainly more composed, something to be grateful for, that he was sure of. 

Pausing a moment, he took a deep breath, exhaling quietly so Zjune, seated to his right, couldn’t hear him. He had never served with the man, but already found him a fascinating figure. Composed, calculated, alert, his XO seemed almost robotic in nature, so precise in his movements and hesitating at nothing. Even something as simple as fixing his hair was done meticulously; nothing he did looked like an accident nor an afterthought. It was something Rutledge admired already, on the other hand, he hardly knew the Commander at all.

Matthews chirped from his seat, “Sir, one minute until arrival. All systems standing by.”

The captain nodded and rose from his seat. “Shields up, all phasers on standby. Go to yellow alert, Lieutenant. Whatever’s out there, we’ll be ready for it.” He paused. “Go to half speed, then drop out of warp right on top of it.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

“Science officer, any changes in those readings?”

V’liv’s standing orders were to alert Rutledge if they did so, so she hadn’t. “No, Sir. Readings holding.”

Matthews chimed in from the helm interjecting firmly, his fingers dancing on his console, “Dropping out of warp in three…two…one…”

The ship lurched forward, and the viewscreen filled with what was, apparently the aperture, looming over the ship, with a dark purple glow emanating from the center of it. The crew remained still for a moment, their eyes fixated on the entity and awestruck by its size. It didn’t lie still; there were patterns of rippling on its surface, and it shimmered every few seconds, almost as if in response to the reactions of the bridge officers who stood staring.

“Science, Ops, I want readouts on this aperture. Size, depth, radiation levels, any gravimetric distortions? Get all the info you can. Helm, maintain a safe distance, 10km, wide angle.”

V’liv turned from her screen, facing the captain. “Sir, I’m detecting an energy emerging from the anomaly. Cannot identify.”

The viewscreen flickered, and the anomaly rippled again, with a large object breaking through the face of the entity. Ripples continued to follow the object, which Rutledge identified as a vessel of some sort, although unfamiliar. It was sizable, a dark vessel with an angled hull, marked with lettering he did not recognize.  It inched forward from the anomaly, towards the direction of the Blythe. 

“Hail them, Lieutenant.”

“No response on any channel, Sir.”

Tensions thickened among the bridge crew almost immediately. Rutledge’s jaw tightened; his eyes locked on the vessel. “Go to red alert. Arm all phasers and torpedo bays. Magnify viewscreen, 2.5. Let’s see if we can identify those markings. And keep hailing them.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

The bridge illuminated with that familiar red glow, and Rutledge kept his eyes on the viewscreen, his hand clutching the left side of his chair instinctively. The vessel followed the Blythe’s path as she made her way around the aperture, her port side facing the opposing ship. The alien vessel turned slightly, now on direct course towards the Blythe. 

“They’re charging weapons!”

“Helm, hard over! Phasers, fire!”