“Approaching intercept waypoint.  Disengaging warp.”  The borrowed helm officer announced as the USS Perseverance thundered down to impulse power near the Federation – Tholian border.  Commander Park sat at the science station, orienting the sensors across a wide swath of the sector.

Captain Wren Walton sat in the center seat, her eyes on the main viewscreen.  She turned to their newly borrowed diplomatic attache, Grace Albright, “It’s your game now, lieutenant.”

Grace sat in the left seat and had been working on her PADD since they’d left Montana Station four hours previous.  Her head snapped up, “Let’s start with the basics – full shot and long-range sensor sweeps – helm – put us on a parallel course with the last updated Tholian boundary – half impulse.”  The officer at the controls swung the Pathfinder class into the requested course while Park worked at the science station.  “Commander Park?”

The XO turned science officer tapped cautiously at the console, the screen shifting as she adjusted the sensors and read the reports manually. The lack of a science team was going to make this more challenging.  “Signal is stronger – locking in position.”  A beep and a blinking dot appeared, “The signal is coming from…on the border.  Right in the middle.”  She adjusted the main viewer to show the details.

Wren drummed her fingers on the chair, “Damned peculiar – the Tholians are pretty good about keeping their side of space clear as far as I know.  We don’t often have to play goalkeeper or referee when it comes to it.” She asked Albright, “You ever meet a Tholian, lieutenant?”

Grace continued working on her PADD and the console beside her chair, “We got lucky ten years ago.  I was working with a border mapping team…and we ran into a planet about five hours away from it.  It had been scanned a year before with nothing.  We scanned and found a Tholian life sign.”  She tapped at the PADD, frowning as she adjusted the information she sent to Park, “He was old. Dying.  He’d fled and been shot at – crashed into the planet.  They must have thought they’d killed him.”  Another tap at her console, “He didn’t have a lot of time to live…told us what he could as his body fell apart…his ship was pretty stripped down.  He told us he was a pariah among his people, or at least that’s what the translator said.  He’d finally decided to live on his own terms…or something.  We notified the Tholians of what we’d found.”  She zeroed in a frequency in the scans, “All they said back was, ‘burn.’  I’ve encountered them over subspace communication since then – but it’s only bits and pieces…and usually thick with threats.”

Wren glanced at the screen, “What did he tell you?”

“He told us there were others like him – not many..but they existed.  That we should keep our eyes on the border. It was the start of the plan for Montana Station.  It took us ten years to get it done.  Commander, can you run a deep imaging scan here and here?”

Park translated the coordinates to her sensors, frowning as she reworked the scanning matrix, “That’s…Captain – that’s the start of a…platform of some kind?”  She adjusted it more and translated it to the screen, “At least that’s what it looks like to me.”

The few eyes on the bridge examined the display.  Walton stood from her chair and walked closer to the viewscreen, standing just behind the helm officer, “Well, I’ll be damned.  It looks pretty small.  Park, can you approximate a schematic from what we have so far?”

She queried the computer about the construction, and it replied with several image scenarios: “Given what we know, estimates are anywhere from 4 decks to 7. It doesn’t seem to have the capacity for more.”

Wren wondered what the Tholians were up to.  Were they trying to test them?  Tempt them?  Or just play with them?  She asked Albright, “So, they’re building their own station?”

Grace wasn’t sure. “Its placement is intentional—right on their side of the border. If they meant to threaten or act against us…they’d have done the deed. This might be their version of a proportional response.  We built a station hours from the border, and they built one right on it.  It doesn’t look like it will be active anytime soon – they’re taking their time building it.”

Park said, “As far as I or the computer can tell – the weapons configuration of the station would be minimal.”

Silence was held on the bridge as each reviewed the sensor data and information. Wren leaned forward in the center chair, “Park—transmit all data back to Montana Station. Get us a secure encrypted channel with Command Operations. Albright? You think we should try talking to them? Will they answer?”

Grace went from her PADD to the console and back again, “Stranger things have happened, captain.  Whatever they’re building is new, even as small as it is.”

Wren sat back in her chair.  It felt good to be back in command of something that mattered.  She lamented that the other side of that coin was that whatever you did mattered too.  “Hail the construction on standard frequencies with friendship and cooperative messaging.  Let’s see if anybody is home.”