In the depths of space, lightyears from the nearest starship, starbase or space body, something was stirring. Something miraculous and intriguing. Something exciting enough that it drew the gaze of a wandering starship some distance away, causing the Echelon-class USS Proteus to divert from her patrol route on a mission of scientific discovery. But before Proteus could even get close, before the light-cruiser could even report-in to Starfleet about their findings, however small they were, the peculiar phenomena changed beyond recognition. From the small tendrils of energy that had earlier formed, a collision of ions and tachyons generated a massive rupture in space that sent a gravimetric distortion wave barrelling into the cosmos.

Throughout the sterile, metallic corridors of Proteus, strobes of crimson red suddenly replaced the standard illuminations that lit her hallowed halls. Happy, familiar chatter ceased as alert sirens wailed without hesitation or warning, sending personnel scuttling in new directions. One such officer, Deakon Iersa, hobbled along at the quickest speed his little legs could carry him. At just under five foot in height, the creature with cyan-coloured skin and enormous black orbs filling his eye sockets skipped to the turbo lift on deck six and directed it to the main bridge.

The cacophony of noise when he exited the lift was almost too much to bare for his bat-like ears, wincing at the sounds from around the command centre. He made his way towards his station, the one to starboard of the helm, and relieved the officer in his position. He was one of just fifteen officers across the ship that were older than twenty-five Earth years of age, one of the few survivors of the Frontier Day massacre. At 120 years of age, he was actually the most experienced member of the ship’s crew, despite his  lower rank, but that was the way he liked it. He had respect from his peers, but none of the responsibilities a higher rank would incur. He would be thankful of that today.

“Damage report?” the stern voice of the ship’s veteran commander, Captain Elara Quinn, called out from her position on the raised platform at the back of the bridge. From her vantage point, the Captain could see and hear everything; she was like a lion watching over her pride.

“Minor damage to shields Captain,” young Serina Mar declared from tactical, “weapons systems still functioning.”

“Propulsion systems working within normal parameters,” Celeste called from the CONN. Her quick thinking and repositioning of the ship had probably saved them from significant harm, and that drew a nod of appreciation from the Captain.

“We’re in pretty good shape all things considered,” the Chief Engineer told, stepping away from the engineering displays at the back of the bridge and reporting to the Captain.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the Captain returned to her seat, a brief exchange of looks with her XO signalling that they were alright to proceed as planned. For now.

“Talia,” the much elder XO called out towards the science station adjacent to him from his position as right hand man to the Captain, “further analysis of the anomaly?”

Sitting at the science wall, junior Lieutenant Talia Vos, daughter of the esteemed Captain Kelvan Vos, was hard at work analysing the data related to the strange phenomenon that had caused chaos across the ship. What she had discovered worried her. Was it actually possible? She hadn’t seen anything like it in the years since she had qualified and began her exploration of the stars, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. But everything she’d been taught told her the probability of such a phenomena forming in such a way was slim at best. But she had to be honest, right? She had to tell them what she had found, or what she believed she had found. Squeezing some more juice from the ship’s computer, the Lieutenant ran the same confirmation protocols as before.

“Lieutenant Vos?!” Commander Kael Draven, a native of Alpha Centauri, wasn’t particularly patient at the best of times, but in the middle of a potential crisis, his patience wore thinner than usual.

‘Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time,’ she thought to herself, refusing to turn and acknowledge him until she had the answers he sought. Only when the computer confirmed her findings did she spin on her chair and look towards the command deck.

“I’ve run every form of analysis I can,” she told the old timer, “and every time the analysis comes back the same way. What we’re looking at is the terminus of a subspace corridor.” Her explanation was clear enough even for the notoriously sciencephobe XO to understand.

“A wormhole?” Quinn asked from the center chair. ”You’re telling me we have an unstable wormhole that just happens to open in our path?” Elara was notorious for questioning everything, even failing to believe things she saw with her own eyes until it was almost too late.

“Not exactly,” Talia shook her dreadlocked hair. “According to the sensor data we have, the placement of the aperture might be random and unstable, but the subspace tunnel itself is stable and would be accessible whenever the aperture is open.” Talia knew her stuff, having been on many science expeditions during her short career and having had the luxury of serving aboard some of the fleet’s finest science vessels before being headhunted for the Proteus to replace her former science chief.

“Ummm, Captain…”

“How the hell can the aperture shift so randomly?” Elara asked, gaze rooted on the young science chief.

“That’s one thing we’ve never truly been able to explain,” Talia frowned, “this one appears to be similar to the Barzan wormhole discovered in the 60’s, which had one fixed terminus, while the other side jumped from place to place, making travel through it too unpredictable.”

“Ummm, Captain…”

“Is there anything we can do to try and stabilise this end, to try and allow us to travel through safely?” Kael asked, sitting on the edge of his seat, listening to the science chief’s every word and trying to make sense of her analysis.

“Barzan was stabilised in the 90’s using anti-graviton and verteron fields,” she shrugged, “we could maybe try tha…”

“CAPTAIN!”

Snapping her head around almost 180 degrees, the Captain glared at the owner of the loud, rather rude voice that had been trying to interrupt for a few minutes. “What is it?!” she asked Lieutenant Mar, a little more aggressively than she perhaps intended.

“I can’t be certain,” the Betazoid answered, turning from her tactical station, “but sensors appear to be detecting a large metallic mass heading for the aperture.”

Well, that certainly got everyone’s attention, the command team turning their seats away from the science terminals and to the more central position overlooking the rest of the bridge.

“Adjusting the targeting array,” Talia called out, nodding to her tactical companion, “that should help with your sensors.”

Serina smiled in thanks, then immediately turned her attention back to the sensors on her panel. When she’d run the next set of sweeps, she found herself wishing she was almost anywhere but there.

“Captain, you’re not going to like this…”

An oval primary hull that made her resemble the enigmatic Sovereign explorer as opposed to her earlier kin she’d served for decades. A hull smothered with phaser arrays and torpedo launchers that gave her teeth like a lioness defending her pride. Four impulse engines that gave off a warm, welcoming glow and hinted at her significantly improved manoeuvrability at sublight speeds, and two elongated nacelles stretching for what felt like kilometers ensured she would be no slouch at warp either. She was curvy, streamlined and sexy. Lakota certainly was a sight to behold, even if she was only a dependable cruiser-type ship, rather than one of the top-of-the-line explorer models. That was enough for her.

And in a few short minutes or so, Lieutenant Lauren Mitchell hoped that Lakota would be her new home. At least for a while. She’d been summoned from the Proxima to serve as the new tactical operations chief aboard Lakota, unsure as to where the ship’s former tactical chief had gone, but was more than happy to make such a move. She needed to get out of the shadow of her superior on Proxima and it was time to chart a new course somewhere else.

Staring beyond the window pane on level five of Deep Space Seventeen, taking in the view of her new home, she grew impatient. She glared briefly back at the chronometer on the wall above the observation lounge door, then back to the stars beyond the task force headquarters. She’d been waiting, patiently, for nearly an hour. And that was some challenge for a woman who’d been known to give orders and then carry them out herself because she couldn’t bear to wait for someone to complete them. She was unsure how long meetings of the brass would usually take, but she’d been told that her new captain had been in there for nearly two hours now, and that couldn’t be good. She’d heard rumours of course, people who knew people who knew others who had reportedly gone missing. Was that what had drawn Lakota home, and what her new CO was discussing at length.

Behind her, the doors to the conference room parted suddenly, officers of differing rank and uniform colours evacuated at speed, causing the blonde human to step to the side. Her keen powers of observation allowed her to spot her new commanding officer and another woman among the throngs of people.

“Captain Nazir!” she called out, waving an arm in the air, straining to be identified by Lakota’s mistress.

To her credit, even over the din of voices, Keziah made out her name, and stopped to try and ascertain the location from where it came. Her companion noticed the woman first, and tapped the Captain on the arm, gesturing to the starboard edge of the crowd.

Craning her neck, the Fleet Captain made eye contact with the young woman and waved her over. Mitchell fought her way past the final few people and, when in front of the captain, she tugged on the hem of her uniform jacket. “Lieutenant Lauren Mitchell ma’am,” she smiled, offering a hand, “I was told to report to your command?”

Ah, so here she was, Starfleet’s answer to her ‘Or’uil’ problem. She wasn’t sure this petite woman from Earth would be able to fill the hole left by the Ungeat’s death, but she would at least give her the benefit of doubt. “Lieutenant,” she nodded, holding a hand to her companion, “this is my XO, Commander Noli Auru.”

Noli jutted her chin upwards, as if nodding to the ceiling. “Lieutenant,” she said flatly.

Before the conversation could proceed any further, Nazir began to march off again. “You’re not going to get much settling in time Lieutenant,” she frowned, “we’ve got an investigation to lead.”

Lauren struggled to match the pace of Lakota’s command team, who had caught her on the flat, but she tried her best. A wry smile crept upon her face, finding the cryptic statement about the investigation to be to her satisfaction. Who needed settling in time, anyway?

Whatever events had conspired to bring everyone here, to this place near the Typhon Expanse, seemed to culminate in the moments prior to Henry’s arrival in the transporter room. All across the ship, normal operating procedures ceased. Alert klaxons blared whilst lighting changed to an almost scarlet colour, randomly intermittent at first, before settling into a rhythmic pattern in sync with the alert klaxons overhead just in time for him to reach the foot of the transporter pad and the rematerialisation process to begin.

Once the swirling blue particles of matter converged to bring substance to the universe once more, Captain Nazir found herself glaring at the change in lighting and the sounds blaring above her. What the hell had changed in the few minutes since they’d left the briefing room on Deep Space Seventeen to transport home?

Henry could sense the consternation coming from the command team and, while ever sheepish, he had to be the bearer of bad news. But just as he was about to spill the proverbial beans, he locked eyes with the unexpected third person on the transporter pad. It had been years since they had seen each other. So long and so out of contact in fact that neither of them expected to see the other again, least of all here, on the outskirts of the Typhon Frontier.

“Henry?”

“Captain,” his scowl slowly drifted from the newcomer and towards the Captain. “Commander Prida asked me to inform you of the situation as soon as you beamed aboard,” Flyboy continued, raising his hand to mop some beads of sweat forming on his brow.

“Inform us then,” Noli scolded him.

“Proteus has sent a distress call. She’s detected a wormhole-like entrance aperture near the Ryton system,” the pilot blurted out, “and she’s detected a ship headed for the Alpha Quadrant.”

Stepping down from the transporter pad, the Captain began to head for the door. “And this warrants our attention, why? Proteus is more than capable of handling herself,” Nazir shook her head, jutting it to the left and ordering Noli and the newcomer to follow close by as they entered the corridor. Henry chased after them, wondering how he could tell them his news, and decided to simply be blunt about it.

“Captain! Its the Borg…”

Nazir’s feet stopped quicker than her brain could seemingly compute the words that had come out of Henry’s mouth. Noli spun on her heels and glared at the pilot, daring him to confirm what he had just said one more time, only for him to simply nod. The Bajoran dropped her head and let out a sigh, her hands on her hips as the memories of recent times came flooding back. Keziah, meanwhile, found herself wandering over to the nearby wall and placing her palms flat against it, arms extended at full stretch, holding up her fragile torso as her own head dipped.

For what seemed like an age, no one said anything. They simply tried their best to absorb the fact that the Borg, their most lethal enemy, was on their doorstep yet again. And after everything they had been through, all the death and destruction wrought across the galaxy, let alone the Federation, it would be Lakota that would have to answer the call.

And right then, as her eyes welled and her limbs shook, it seemed that Captain Keziah Nazir, a veteran of hundreds of years of service, was about to lose what little sense of hope she had left for the galaxy. The spark she’d held onto on those dark days, crushed under the relentless nature of an enemy that simply could not be defeated. All she could think, all she could ask herself, was how had it again come to this.

Taking a deep breath, Noli looked up to the metallic roof plating, almost looking through the countless decks above and out into the heavens themselves. She took a moment to compose herself, to find the steel resolve she’d need to get them all through whatever chaos was to ensue. Only when she found it did she take a step closer to Henry and gave him his hushed orders.

“Inform Prida we’ll be there as soon as possible. Have her prepare the ship for departure and gather whatever information we’ll need,” the Bajoran’s orders were swift and clear, the two friends sharing concerned glances at the Captain, and then back at one another, all whilst the newcomer stood just feet away, eyes like saucers. “Contact Proteus and inform them we’re on the way,” the XO added before pointing at the nearby woman. “Whatever beef you two have can wait. We need to ascertain the truth behind the Proteus‘ findings and we’ll go from there.”

Henry wasn’t surprised that Noli was perceptive enough to detect the tension between himself and the newcomer, and he knew she’d know if her instructions hadn’t been followed, so simply nodded and waved for the woman in operations gold to follow after him.

Watching as the two Lieutenant’s left, her hands again glued to her hips, the Bajoran’s gaze moved to the Trill propped up by the bulkhead.

She’d learnt over the last year, that being a good XO meant that she had to look out for the wellbeing of her crew, and in this instance, that absolutely meant the mental health and wellbeing of their captain. For without Nazir, whatever challenge they would face in the coming days would surely be more difficult and dangerous.

The only problem was, she wasn’t sure how to support the Captain right now. But she knew someone who would.