Stabilising us now.

If there were ever famous last words in the history of famous last words, then Cav had just uttered them. Unfortunately, these three particular words were along the same lines as a secondary character uttering the phrase ‘I’ll be right back’ in a horror film… as in, the universe took them as a personal challenge.

Almost before the words had left Cav’s lips, alarms and alerts turned his console into a damned Christmas tree. He blinked at more proximity alerts than he could shake a stick at and shouted over his shoulder, “Hold onto something!”

His world narrowed down to him, the ship and what seemed like an entire junkyard of ships, ship parts, something whipping past the main viewscreen he really hoped wasn’t a body, and rocks. Lots of rocks. Big ass rocks that could crush the Interceptor between them.

“Gonna need some help on tactical!” he called out, throwing the ship into a hard roll to slide it between a rock and what looked like half a ship tumbling toward them. It had been sheared in two, the decks within open to space.

“On it!” Someone yelled back over the alarms and chaos of the bridge. Cav could hear Mason behind him, relief rolling through him that the captain was on her feet and seemed okay. He’d lost sight of her when they’d been pulled through what had looked like a purple storm. He had no idea what it was, but he was a pilot, not a science bod. They paid him to fly, not make guesses on what purple space storms trying to kill them were…

“Any idea what I’m looking at, Mr. Steele?” the captain asked from behind Cav as Beck slid into place on tactical beside him. The next second, the three small rocks threatening their battered shields became nothing more than space dust.

“Hard port in three, two, one,” Beck called out, and Cav nodded. The two of them worked in tandem, Beck blasting both rocks and ship debris as Cav took the ship through it.

“Working on it captain,” Steele replied, his voice, usually so soft and quiet Cav had to resist the urge to ask him to speak up all the time, calm and clear.

“Give me your best guess please, Mr. Steele. I need something to work with here,” the captain ordered. “Mads, route all power you can to the forward shields and weapons. Engineering, how you guys doing down there?”

The rocks and debris in front of them cleared a little and Cav breathed a sigh of relief, easing off the throttle so to speak. But then he got a look at what was in front of them, rather than concentrating on shit that could destroy the ship, and his eyes widened.

That… was not space in front of them. The stars were gone for one thing, which tended to be a dead giveaway.

“We appear to have been pulled through some kind of wormhole,” Steele said. “Or possibly a rift in subspace. I’m sorting through the readings now. Given the presence of Tachyon particles—“

“It looks like we’re in some kind of… I dunno, corridor?” Cav frowned, leaning forward slightly to look up and see as much of their surroundings as he could. It didn’t actually make any difference to his view, but he felt like it did, and that was what mattered.

“Lieutenant Cavendish is quite correct,” the science officer replied. “Given the readings and cross referencing with records in the database, I believe we might be in underspace.”

“Underspace?”

The captain looked surprised as she half turned to look at him. She had blood in her hair at the side, just above her ear. She must have hit her head when they’d been yanked through the aperture.

“I believe so.” He nodded, shooting her a quick look then glancing down at his consoles again.

He couldn’t work out if she was annoyed or not that he couldn’t be more precise, but people had always confused him. Their facial expressions often didn’t match their words, although, he had to admit, the captain was easier for him to read than most. She said what she meant and did what she said she would, he’d learned that back on the Sherwood.

“Good enough for me,” she nodded and he breathed a sigh of relief and took refuge in his console readouts again. Data, facts and figures, these were his friends. He understood them, even when they didn’t make sense, he knew that there was an order and logic in them somewhere. He just had to find it.

“Ah, Commander Riggs. Thank you for joining us.”

Steele froze as the turbolift doors opened. He didn’t need to look up to know that the Interceptor’s Chief of Security had just walked onto the bridge. If he didn’t understand most people, he could usually talk to them. Not Commander Riggs. Just one look at the beautiful woman and his ability to speak, to form a coherent sentence, disappeared quicker than Lieutenant Cavendish at a formal function that required dress uniform.

“Unfortunately Commander Ashfield is currently out of commission, so I need you to step up as Acting executive officer. Mr. Steele thinks that we are currently in Underspace.”

Dammit. He’d just run the same report three times. He blinked and tried to get it together.

“Okay, we need to work out exactly where we are,” the captain said as Commander Riggs settled into the XO’s seat. She was tiny and petite next to the captain. He couldn’t help noticing she typed as quick one handed as most people could with two. “Can we get back to the wormhole? And is there any sign of the Resolute? Chance are they got yanked in here as well.”

“Yes, sir…” Riggs turned and their gazes clashed. Hurriedly he dropped his, cheeks burning. Had she realised he’d been staring at her? He hoped not. He’d spent hours in his quarters trying to figure out how to talk to her. Just walk up to her in the lounge—

“Lieutenant Steele?” She smiled and he couldn’t look away. “We’re going to need a level one astronomical scan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied promptly, then risked a look up at her. She was looking at him. “Ma’am… that will take several hours and…”

He looked up at the main view screen. The pulsating walls of underspace, the colours fluctuating in a random patter, met his eyes, making him feel slightly unbalanced. It felt for all the world like they were in the guts of some monstrous space creature, on their way to be digested.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” she prompted him and his attention snapped back to her.

“It may not be safe to remain here for too long,” he said, hands already moving over the console again. “Scans of the debris we just passed through indicates that they may not have met their end through natural means. I’m picking up weapons damage on several peices of wreckage, those big enough for me to analyse anyway. The rest have been destroyed by the rocks.”

His hands stilled for a moment… didn’t some creatures swallow rocks to help break down their meals? He swallowed, his throat making an audible click. Okay, that wasn’t a reassuring thought. At all.

“Of course,” Lana nodded as Steele studied his console like it held the secrets of life itself. Which, given their current situation, it could well be. She shot a look at the view screen. The view was stunning. Not the usual void of blackness and distant stars that made her feel tiny and small, it almost reminded her of being at warp… that feeling of purpose and containment. But far prettier, she decided, watching a streak of purple wash over the ‘wall’ nearby, chased by pink and then orange.

Underspace. Who’d have thought it? She’d read the files, but information was sparse at best. She turned back to the tall, blond science officer, offering him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. She couldn’t work him out. He wasn’t chatty, at all. Today was the first day he’d actually looked at her. He was either a cold fish, or, even worse, he’d made the connection between her and the other Reese-Riggs in Starfleet.

“Okay, let’s go with level three’s then,” the captain said. “Cav, work with Mr. Steele for three scans, a light year apart. Commander Beck, keep your eyes and ears open. Weapons damage means we might get company at any point. Ensign Birkett, can you see if we can establish contact with anyone in here… preferably the Resolute?”

“Yes, sir.” The snappy chorus in reply made Lana proud of the crew. She’d been aboard under the previous captain, so she only knew half of them, but they seemed to be pulling together well.

Speaking of new crew, she caught the eye of her assistant department head and nodded. With her standing in as XO, Stark would take over her role for a while. Since he was new to the ship, it would be an interesting learning curve for both of them.

“Sir…” the tactical officer called out. “We may have a problem.”