Being towed home in ignominy because your ship had suffered in such a way that you couldn’t support yourselves was never something a Commanding Officer was proud of, no matter the circumstances for the disablement. Whilst under tow by the USS Givens, the Proteus crew would do their best to cheer themselves with the understanding that they had been in battle with one of the Federation’s most lethal enemies and lived to tell the tale. Yet the fact remained that they were not currently able to operate under their own power and were being towed to Deep Space 17 by virtue of the warp drive on Givens.

But even the warp drive on the Steamrunner-class vessel was susceptible to environmental pressures, so when sensors suddenly detected a massive build-up of gravimetric distortions, the ship and her tow dropped from warp to try and avoid catastrophe. For a second it seemed like they had bypassed the worst of the distortion, progressing slowly but surely, until another gravimetric surge hit both vessels like a wave. Power fluctuated on both vessels, to the degree that the tractor beam linking them together was soon severed.

Whilst the crew on Given’s had no idea what to expect next, the people on Proteus did. Only this time, they were anxious that, perhaps, the Borg were back to finish the job? And with their rescuers so far away, they’d be unable to mount any kind of defence this time.

Thankfully for them, when the aperture opened this time there was no sign of the Borg, or anyone for that matter. Unfortunately, it opened so close to Proteus’ port bow that the ship was helpless to escape the gravimetric sheers.

In the blink of an eye, the distortion fields were gone…

…and so was Proteus.

With her compatriots having been reassigned, Lakota remained the only vessel keeping vigil at the place of their encounter with the Borg sphere. Even late at night, officers on watch kept a close eye on sensors in case the Borg returned, but so far, so good. Starfleet had ordered Lakota to withdraw the following day if there were no further signs of the enemy, and with the countdown chronometer ticking away at the top of the viewscreen, everyone who had come and gone were ready to move on now. Four more hours until alpha shift, and four more hours until…

What was that?

A chirping noise startled Ensign Kiaol awake in her seat at the forward operations station. It had been a really, really slow shift, and with little going on, Commander Teyahna hadn’t kicked up a fuss when Elijah fell asleep earlier, nor when Dazia had dozed off more recently, but something had changed now.

Gaining her composure, all whilst feeling the anxious glare of the Orion science chief boaring into the back of her skull, the young Trill tapped away at her console to find the source of the chirping. When it occurred a second time, significantly more shrill than the first, she had no trouble locating it.

“Long-range sensors are detecting massive gravimetric distortions of nearly twelve thousand light…”

Stepping forward from her position in the command chair overseeing the night shift, Teyahna ran a hand through her thick, brown hair. “Ensign?” she asked in search of clarification for the abrupt ending to the report.

“Sorry Commander,” Dazia frowned, looking back for the briefest moment, then back to her controls. “Sensors were picking up distortions, but they appear to have ceased.”

“Nisea?”

Just a few feet away, the Boslic at the helm confirmed her young counterparts’ findings. “The Ensign is correct Commander. The distortions originated at a heading of four one mark three five two, but have dissipated.”

“Four one mark three five two?” Teyahna mused, wandering back towards the command chair slowly, one hand folded across her chest and supporting the second that rubbed her chin. The number sounded familiar for some reason.

Suddenly, a sinking feeling engulfed the Orion, and just as she was about to give her next set of orders, a different chirp emanated from the Ops station.

“We’re receiving a distress call,” the Ops attendant revealed.

“From the Givens,” Teyahna added, causing the young Trill and her Boslic counterpart to gaze in the senior officer’s direction. She could either see the message somewhere else or she had insane intuition. Either way, the two junior officers were impressed.

Stepping over to the Ops station, the Commander read the distress call, its contents causing her heart to sink.

“Wake the XO and have her report to the bridge,” she spoke in a hushed tone that belied her sadness, “I’ll wake the Captain myself.”

Dreaming of a land far away, filled with pristine beaches and palm trees swaying in the lightest of breezes was not something new for Keziah of late. It seemed that with all her body had gone through in recent times, it now yearned for some time on an isolated getaway. It yearned when she was awake, and it yearned even harder when she slept. And always the same image of calm serenity. Until now.

Now, as she walked the sandy shore, waves lapping at her spotted feet and sunkist rays beating upon her head, something strange occurred. A beeping sound. But with no technology for miles around, not so much as a communicator upon her breast, she was confused as to where the beeping came from. Perhaps she was imagining it inside her imagination?

No. There it was again, only louder, and more urgent. So urgent in fact that it caused her to jolt.

Sitting bolt upright in her bed, the Trill took some seconds to manage a couple of breaths and gain her composure before twisting on her backside and hanging her legs over the bed and into her slippers. Just in time for another round of beeps.

“I’m coming!” she yelled, not angrily, but loudly so the impatient visitor would at least know she was awake.

Stumbling past the chair near her bed chamber’s door, she grabbed her dressing gown and pulled it over her torso, managing to tie it just as she reached the door to her abode and found her science chief standing there, looking somewhat worse for wear.

“Teyahna?” the Trill asked, stepping inside and gesturing for the Orion to follow her. “Looks like you better come in,” she added as they approached the center of the living area.

“Sorry to wake you Captain,” the Orion apologised as she stopped near her superior’s sofa. “There’s been a development with the Proteus,” she advised the Captain, who was now perched on the back of the sofa and looking at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, the green-skinned beauty delivered the news she’d come to share.

“Several minutes ago, long-range sensors detected massive gravimetric distortions on a heading of four one mark three five two. They were there one second and gone the next. Before we could ascertain any further information, we received a distress call from Givens,” the Orion shifted nervously on her feet before delivering the hammer blow.

“Captain… Proteus is gone.”

For a few moments, which seemed like an eternity for the poor bearer of bad news, Keziah simply stared at the floor, arms folded, as she took in the information. When she eventually looked up, the Captain let out a sigh.

“I think I’d better get dressed…”