CHIEF SCIENCE OFFICERS LOG, Stardate 240105.03: Silas’ gut fe… uh… Captain Crowe’s gut feeling—or maybe just his hunch—seems to have paid off, sort of. I still don’t fully understand why he took such a huge risk by steering us into the vortex, but it seems like we would’ve been torn apart if we hadn’t stopped fighting against it. Somehow, we ended up about 54,000 lightyears from our last known position. I know strange things like this have happened before, but it’s still quite a shock.
 

I dug through the databases and managed to narrow down what might have caused this. The closest match I found was from the records of the USS Voyager. They got flung absurdly far into the Delta Quadrant, but thankfully, we didn’t go that far. Then again Voyager was transported by a being called ‘The Caretaker,’ but nothing like that seems to be going on here.
 

Anyway, I’m drifting away -I think I’ve identified the anomaly as something Voyager’s logs called ‘Underspace.’ This network of subspace corridors seems to check most of the boxes. The thing is, we knew it stretched throughout the Delta Quadrant, but this is the first time it’s been recorded in the Alpha Quadrant. This brings up a ton of questions, like: “Was it already here and we just noticed it now?” or “Is it expanding?” If it’s the latter, is it something natural, or is someone—or something—making it expand?
 

There’s so much we don’t know. Thankfully, the repairs are almost done, so I’ll be heading back to the bridge now. This is Professor Selene Arden… although you probably knew that already.

“Computer, end log.”

The soft chirp of the computer swallowed Selene’s sigh. She preferred her personal memos to these stiff, official logs. Rising from her desk, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the holoimage on her console—an ‘Underspace Corridor’ as recorded by Voyager years ago.

The corridor was mesmerizing. Swirling purples, blues, and browns flowed together like a living river, stretching into infinity. Debris drifted within this vibrant tunnel: shattered asteroids, twisted metal fragments, ghostly remains of long-lost ships, floating in a slow, chaotic ballet. Electric tendrils arced through the scene, their crackling light briefly illuminating the wreckage in sharp, vivid flashes. Amid the swirling chaos, a faint, narrow path wound its way through, a fragile thread guiding through the tumultuous sea of colors and energy.

Selene’s breath hitched. It was uncanny—this corridor mirrored the phenomenon they had navigated mere hours ago. She stared, the eerie familiarity pulling her deeper into thought. Questions crowded her mind, each one a puzzle piece she was driven to fit together.

Crossing her office, Selene moved slowly, almost cautiously. The air was thick with the sweet, delicate fragrance of the Muktok plant, intensifying as she approached. The plant’s scent—a unique blend of floral sweetness and earthy undertones—created an atmosphere that was both exotic and reassuring. She reached out, fingers brushing a leaf. The plant responded with a gentle, melodic jingling, the sound pulling a soft smile from her. It was a comforting echo of Betazed, her distant home, now 53,690 lightyears away.

She turned towards the viewport, half-expecting to see the lush, green landscapes of Betazed. Instead, her view was dominated by a dark silhouette and the glimmer of a green alloy gleamed under the faint starlight, its sharp lines casting an imposing shadow that obscured the stars beyond. 

Pulled from her nostalgic thoughts Selene took a few tentative steps towards the cabinet in the corner, where a neatly organized stack of PADDs waited. One step, two steps, three steps she looked around her office silently enjoying the tidiness, her tidiness, the room was so cozy and organized some might think it were her quarters. 

Three more steps towards the cabinet and she stopped abruptly, her heart pounding. Her eyes widened as a realization set in. 

“Was that a Valdore-class starship?” The thought raced through her mind, a wave of unease washing over her.

She stumbled backward, each step deliberate, her gaze fixed on the viewport. One step, two, three, four, five, six. Her eyes widened as the view clarified. The warbird’s hulking form filled the frame, its dark lines and sharp angles slicing through the void, an imposing shadow against the stars. Her breath caught, heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the sight. Before she could fully grasp the enormity of what she was seeing, Captain Crowe’s voice pierced the air, sharp and commanding, snapping her back to the present.

“Senior staff, report to the observation lounge immediately!”

Selene’s pulse quickened, each beat thudding loudly in her ears. She surged forward, covering the distance to the cabinet in swift, decisive steps. In a fluid motion, she flung open the cabinet and snatched a PADD, the device cool and solid in her grasp. Without missing a beat, she dashed out of her office, her mind a maelstrom. The anomaly loomed large in her thoughts, its eerie likeness to Voyager’s Underspace Corridor vivid in her memory. But the sight of the Romulan ship now eclipsed all, its presence both startling and impossible to ignore.

As Selene entered the Observation Lounge, the room buzzed with energy. Conversations stilled momentarily as heads turned her way, eyes flicking with anticipation. She threaded through the gathered crew, the familiar hum of voices tinged with a subtle tension. Reaching her seat, she barely had a moment to breathe before Captain Crowe’s voice rang out. His words, steady and authoritative, sliced through the air, silencing the remaining murmurs and drawing all attention to him.

“Ah, Selene, welcome! Just in time. Now that everyone’s here, let’s dive right in without delay.”

With a tap of his PADD, the room dimmed, suffusing it with a soft, ambient glow. Before them, a holographic map materialized, sprawling in intricate detail across the space. The Alpha, Beta, and Delta Quadrants unfolded with shades of blue highlighting strategic sites—Starbase Bravo, Earth’s Starbase One, and planets like Qo’noS and Betazed, each meticulously marked. Two points blazed in vivid red: Io’s original position in the Alpha Quadrant and their current coordinates deep within the Delta Quadrant.

Above the map, the models of a sleek Luna-class and a menacing Valdore-class cruiser turned in slow, mesmerizing circles. They were surrounded by a constellation of data points, including their names USS Io and IRW Vihroi. Selene’s eyes darted from one detail to another, unsure where to focus amidst the wealth of information presented before her.

“For those who aren’t yet aware, a few minutes ago, the Romulan Free State vessel, IRW Vihroi, decloaked off our port side. I had a brief conversation with its Commander, Temar, and it appears they are stranded here as well…”

As Captain Crowe narrated, Selene’s attention oscillated between his voice and the data displayed alongside the holographic ships. The USS Io appeared battle-worn but resilient, its systems nearly restored to peak efficiency. In stark contrast, the Vihroi bore scars of recent conflict, scorch marks etched across its hull that Selene studied with analytical intensity.

“… for about two weeks,” Crowe continued, his tone somber yet focused.

“If they’ve been here that long, why haven’t they fixed their hull yet?” Lieutenant Jansen’s voice cut through the discussion, laced with the practical skepticism of an engineer. “Even my racquetball racquet has fewer holes.”

Selene’s gaze locked onto the Vihroi’s diagnostic readings, and before anyone could respond she cleared her throat. 

After a pregnant pause, she spoke, her voice measured yet resolute “The damage patterns here,” she began, tracing her finger along the holographic display, “suggest multiple attacks.”

Lieutenant Drevan, his expression knowing, nodded solemnly in agreement with Selene’s assessment. “They’ve definitely seen their share of hostilities.”

Captain Crowe mirrored Drevan’s gravity as he resumed the briefing. “It appears so. But we’re still in the dark about who they are and why they’ve been targeted.”

Commander Patel’s voice carried a measured, contemplative tone as he spoke. “The Tal Shiar wouldn’t typically engage in such direct confrontations.”

“Romulan Free State, Commander,” Suvak interjected calmly from Selene’s side, his presence a steadfast beacon of Vulcan logic amidst the discussion.

Selene nodded appreciatively at Suvak’s correction, turning to him as he continued with precision. “While the Tal Shiar exert significant influence over the Romulan Free State and often refer to themselves as the ‘Tal Shiar Navy,’ not all adhere to their ideologies. The accurate designation is ‘Romulan Free State,’ or ‘RFS,’ according to human fondness of abbreviations and acronyms.”

“RFS it is,” Lieutenant Piper chuckled softly from her corner, a subtle attempt to lighten the mood. Captain Crowe’s expression softened briefly before he redirected the conversation with a firm tone.

“Correct. For those who weren’t present during our initial bridge encounter,” he began, his voice steady and authoritative, “the Vihroi arrived via a phenomenon they called rhoi’aeleir.” He paused, letting the unfamiliar word hang in the air momentarily. “It translates to—”

“Underspace,” Selene asserted, her voice steady and sure. The room’s attention pivoted sharply in her direction, drawn by her authoritative declaration.

“Yes, precisely,” Crowe nodded, leaning slightly forward over the table. His gaze fixed on Selene with an encouraging intensity. “Please, Selene, what can you tell us?”

Rising from her seat with determination, Selene tapped her PADD decisively, bringing up the relevant information. The holographic display shifted, replacing the map and ship models with the Voyager’s holoimage and a series of data files she had prepared earlier in her office.

Clearing her throat once more, Selene began, her voice steady and composed. “Over the past few hours, I’ve meticulously cross-referenced our sensor readings with Federation databases.” She gestured towards the holoimage hovering above her PADD. “The Underspace phenomenon was initially documented by the USS Voyager during their arduous journey through the Delta Quadrant.” Her eyes met each member of the briefing room in turn. “As depicted here, it bears an uncanny resemblance to the anomaly we’ve encountered.”

Suddenly the ship shuddered violently, throwing Selene off balance. She stumbled forward, crashing into the table with a jarring impact that sent a sharp pain shooting through her forehead. The room spun around her in a chaotic whirl of flickering lights and dissonant alarms, each rumble of the ship threatening to throw her off her feet again.

For a moment, everything faded into darkness.

Then the faint, rhythmic beeping of a medical tricorder filled her ears, awareness returned, Selene found herself lying on the floor, her vision blurred and her head throbbing. Through the haze, she saw Suvak’s form kneeling beside her. His face was a stoic mask as always, illuminated dimly by emergency lighting that cast long shadows across the room. 

“Commander,” his voice reached her through the haze, calm and reassuring. “Remain still.”