The morning began like any other.  The sonic shower that helped wake her up.  The soft blaring of her favorite band as she assembled her uniform, slipped on her duty boots, and clapped on her badge.  The work in the mirror to get her hair just right, and one last look at the person reflecting.  Today was a new day.  A new chance to prove herself.  To show that she was better than most at this job.  She was one of the junior communications officers, and her hope…her dream…was to make it to the senior level.

“Morning.”  She greeted the shift leader with the same kind smile she’d given since stepping aboard the Dragonfly.  His reply was the same indifferent shrug as he handed her the PADD for her assigned area.  She entered the large room with four long rows of communication consoles and navigated to her station.  She had put up two photos – one of her mother and the other of their house in the rural eastern edges of Montana.  Her graduation from Starfleet Academy had been a proud moment for them both – her mother because her baby girl had survived to see the day and herself because her mother had managed to do the same.  She tapped into her console.  The screen blinked with the familiar greeting, “Good Morning, Ensign Haley Chalet.”  She whispered back, “Good morning.”  She got to work.

She glanced from one screen to the other as she recorded the communications frequencies she had observed.  An interesting pattern was practiced by some of the colonies out in the rimward, and she was infinitely curious about how and why.  So far, it seemed like a change for no reason, but she knew better.  You didn’t change something like that out of nowhere.  Something had changed.  She was nearly complete when the screen and the data stopped updating.  She frowned, refreshing the communication array.  Nothing.  Her frown deepened.  She ran another refresh.  The signals were absent.  Her training kicked in as she went straight to a systems diagnostic.  Her eyes followed each step from pending to complete.  Each diagnostic line was either yellow or red – some of them flashing.  She glanced around the room.  It was after her shift, and the smaller overnight group hadn’t reported.

Her hands nervously tapped the next level of diagnostics, pushing the investigation further.  The array wasn’t just not receiving from her sector of space…it wasn’t picking up anything.  She ran the diagnostic again, and the same results flashed across the screen.  This time they were all red.  And flashing.  “The hell?” she whispered to herself.  On a lark she checked the shipwide systems report.  There was suddenly lots of yellow and some red on the warp engines.  She tapped at her console frantically, “Ensign Chalet to Chief Reede!”

Captain Alexandra Pantuso stepped onto a chaotic bridge as multiple alarms sounded from stations and jarring beeps created a cacophonous symphony.  She snapped her eyes to the chief of operations who jumped up, “Captain on the bridge!”  The chatter crashed to a halt while the klaxons and alarms continued.

Pantuso scanned the bridge, her eyes meeting each other with a steely resolve. “One at a time, report.” 

Reede spoke first, “We’ve lost contact with Montana Station and others.  One of our junior officers was working on a project and was able to complete low and high level diagnostics – from our perspective, the fault is not with us.”

“Have her report to the bridge, Mr. Reede.  Next?”

Ensign Gabriela Castillo turned in her chair at the helm, “Warp stability has decreased by a wide magnitude.  I’ve attempted to diagnose the issue…we’ve tried to form a warp field along with a couple of other tests…and nothing.  We can’t go to warp speed at the moment, sir.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow.  That wasn’t good news.  She ordered, “Have Chief Crawford run a full report and get up here as soon as possible. What’s next?”

At the science station, a nervous Ensign Lita Morrison tapped frustratingly at her console, “I’m having trouble with long range scans, Captain.  I can do a full local system scan, but there’s a certain point in the sector where I can’t punch through.”  She felt the long stare of her CO and she realized why, “No, this wasn’t an issue yesterday.  This sector of space has no nebula or phenomenon that would interfere with our sensors.”

“Keep digging.” Pantuso turned towards her chief tactical officer, “Mr. Kondo?”

“Tactical scans are limited, similar to science’s concern.  Weapons do not seem to be affected.”  His face held some relief.  They could at least defend themselves.

Alexandra had run various scenarios while listening to the reports.  She returned her attention to Ensign Oscar Reede at communications, “How badly are we limited in communications?”  She noticed a young officer at his side.  “Welcome to the bridge, Ensign…?”

She squeeked out, “Ensign Haley Chalet, sir.”  Pantuso had metaphorically loomed over her since stepping onboard.  She was a fearsome figure to many on the lower decks.

“What can you tell me, Ensign Chalet?”

Haley haltingly moved to the communications station as Reede offered her the chair.  Her hands, slow at first, quickly found their rhythm as she pulled up star maps to display on the main view screen, “The communications blackout stretches from here…to here…and then here.”  The sector map expanded to show where they could reach and where they had run into a wall.  “We’re still working on a more detailed map downstairs, sir.”

Pantuso had moved to the center of the Dragonfly’s bridge before the center chair.  Her eyes searched the map, confused, “This is not a pattern of any kind…it’s…scattered.  No focal point, no place where it’s centered…are we reading any power source or transmission that would be causing this?”

Lita shook her head as she tasked the sensors, her mind whirling.  What was going on, she wondered?  What had caused this sudden change?  And why was it…this way?  “Limited sensors aren’t picking up any kind of unique power source or unusual transmission of any kind.”  She felt the long stare of her CO burning her skin, “I’ll work with the team to get a better understanding, sir.”

“Please do.  Reede?”

Oscar was slightly more confident, “We’re picking up some scattered and broken traffic outside of this sector, but it’s going to take some time to figure out what they’re saying.  Nothing tangible on any band – modern or archaic.”

Alexandra stared at the data on the screen. “Something’s causing this. Localised is my first guess. Each department works on this—share notes on what you find.”  She turned to see her chief engineer, Carolyn Crawford, stepping from the turbo-lift, an unsettled look splayed across her face, “Show me.”

Crawford led her to the engineering station display at the back of the bridge, a PADD in her shaking hands, “Captain, we’re in trouble.  Ensign Castillo did her due diligence.  Warp fields are being impacted – I can’t even get it moving in the nacelles.  Impulse is still functional.  Multiple systems are having problems – I have my entire damage control team working from stem to stern to get a complete picture.  We’ve tried every troubleshooting thing we know and a few we’ve read about – nothing is getting us to warp.  We’ve contacted the two colonies in the system, and they’re reporting similar issues with communications and sensors.”

Pantuso watched her draw out the reality, brows now fully furrowed, “When you have that full report, bring it to me.  Let’s see if we can identify where this is coming from – and why.  This could be a temporary system issue.  Maybe it’ll clear in a few hours.”

Carolyn’s eyes remained wide, “From your lips to the universe’s ears, sir.”