The USS Carlsbad, fresh from a routine supply stop at Starbase Bravo, charted a course back to Starbase 74. Captain Kirok Skyrunner stood on the bridge, surveying the stars streaming past the viewscreen. The USS Carlsbad was at warp 2 for a while when the sensors picked up that comet they saw earlier.

“Captain, we’re detecting that unusual comet ahead,” Lieutenant Commander Amara, the chief science officer, reported from her station. “Its composition and trajectory are unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

Kirok’s eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. “Alter course, Helmsman. Let’s take a closer look.”

The Carlsbad adjusted its trajectory, dropping out of warp, and drew alongside the comet. Amara began scanning the comet, gathering data on its composition and structure. She was also receiving data from the probe they left with the comet. As Amara started scanning the comet, her computer station started beeping and alerting like crazy, picking up strange energy readings that were intensifying.

“Captain, I’m detecting strange energy readings from the unusual element within the comet,” Amara said, her brow furrowed in concern. “It’s not responding normally to our scans. Wait, Captain, I’m reading an adverse reaction…”

The ship shuddered, throwing Kirok off balance. The viewscreen flickered, and the stars seemed to blur and distort.

“Raise shields! Red Alert! What’s happening?” Kirok demanded, grabbing onto the command chair to steady himself.

“We’re being pulled into some kind of subspace tunnel, Captain!” Amara exclaimed, her eyes fixed on her console.

The Carlsbad was flung into the tunnel, the ship’s instruments screaming in protest. Red Alert panels and klaxons were going off, bathing the bridge in red lighting. Everyone was tossed around the bridge deck from the unexpected and turbulent entrance into this strange subspace tunnel Lieutenant Commander Locke was flung and hit her head on a bulkhead. Commander Aramis saw it and immediately went to her side, tapping his comm badge.

“Medical emergency on the bridge!”

Kirok turned to look that way and saw her slumped on the floor. His anger rose at seeing a member of his crew injured.

“Status report now!” Kirok barked, over the screaming red alert klaxon. “Turn that damn alarm off!”

“Checking ship systems now sir,” Commander Aramis said, looking at his screen at the Ship’s Master Situation console at the art of the bridge.

“Helm is not responding, Captain.

“Bridge to Engineering, we need helm control to the bridge back online now!”

“Acknowledged Captain,” Catersha said over the intercom.

“Shields are holding sir. Weapons are still offline right now, working on them. Warp engines are down. Main power down to 57%. Three plasma conduits blew below decks. Damage control teams are engaged,” Aramis reported from the back of the bridge.

With the sounds of reactivating computer consoles, the helmsman announced, “helm controls are restored Captain.”

“Amara, where are we?” Captain Skyrunner inquired to his science officer.

“Scanning sir,” she replied. “We are caught in some kind of subspace tunnel. So is that comet. Scanners reported an intense subspace energy matrix that was caused by our scanners interacting with the unusual element in the comet. We appear to be traveling at ultra high warp speed.”

“How can we get out of this tunnel,” Kirok asked.

“I’m working on that now sir,” Amara replied, working her console feverishly.

“Bridge to Engineering, status report?”

“I got repair teams on the warp drive and restoring main power. It is a mess down here sir. We should have full main power restored shortly.”

“Very well. Bridge out.”

“Sir,” Amara reported,” we can get out of this tunnel by destroying the comet with photon torpedoes.”

Captain Skyrunner sat in the command chair. He raised his hand to his chin, looking deep in thought.

“Helm, position of the comet?”

The helmsman worked his console, then reported. “The comet is three hundred thousand kilometers directly in front of us sir and we are slowly closing on it. Collision in five minutes Captain.”

“Weapons status?” Kirok glanced back at Commander Aramis

Commander Aramis moved to the Tactical Station, working the controls. “Coming online now sir. Phasers charging and torpedoes loading.”

Kirok stared at the viewscreen. “lock torpedoes and stand by to fire.”

Aramis acknowledged the order. “Torpedoes locked Captain.”

“Distance to the comet?”

The helmsman looked at his screen, reporting, “four hundred thousand kilometers and closing. Impact in four minutes.”

“Radiation levels are starting to rise sir,” Amara reported from her science station.

“Full power to shields,” Captain Skyrunner ordered. “Fire torpedoes!”

Deep within the swirling vortex of the subspace tunnel, the USS Carlsbad shuddered as it unleashed a barrage of photon torpedoes. The sleek, red-orange projectiles burst forth from the ship’s launchers, their fiery trails illuminating the dark, distorted space.

As the torpedoes streaked toward their target, a comet trapped within the tunnel’s gravitational grasp, the Carlsbad’s crew held their collective breath. The comet’s icy surface glinted like a shard of glass, its frozen gases glowing with an ethereal light.

The photon torpedoes detonated against the comet’s surface, unleashing a blaze of energy that sent shockwaves rippling through the wormhole. The Carlsbad’s sensors recoiled from the intensity of the blast, their readings momentarily overwhelmed by the explosion’s fury. The ship was severely buffeted by the shockwaves. Crew members were thrown around and consoles went dark as plasma conduits blew from overload.

As the light from the detonation faded, the Carlsbad’s crew assessed the damage. The comet’s surface was now a smoldering, cratered expanse, its frozen core of the unusual element breached by the torpedoes’ fury.

The tunnel, however, was collapsing. Its distortions fluctuated wildly, like a living entity in its death throes. The Carlsbad was buffeted by intense energy waves as the tunnel’s fabric unraveled. Then, in an instant, the tunnel vanished, spitting Carlsbad back into normal space.

The ship shuddered, its instruments struggling to adjust to the sudden transition. Kirok’s eyes locked onto the viewscreen, his mind racing with the implications.

“Report status!” Captain Skyrunner ordered, picking himself up off the floor and stumbled into the seat of his command chair.

“Checking sir,” the helmsman said, “we are over five hundred light years from where we were Captain.”

“What?!” Kirok exclaimed.

Lieutenant Commander Amara confirmed the reading. “Confirmed Captain. We traveled 537 light years in the matter of 86 seconds.”

“Engineering to Bridge. I got a mess down here. Main power is offline right now. Auxiliary power is holding at 65% Impulse engines are sluggish. The warp reactor is badly damaged. Over a dozen plasma relays overloaded. We got a hill breach on deck 7. Life support is holding for now, but I can’t guarantee it will stay that way,” Chief Engineer Catersha reported.

“Understood Cat. Priority is restoring main power.”

“Understood Captain. Engineering out.”

Lieutenant Commander Amara reported a sensor contact that lit up her sensor display. “Captain, I’m picking up multiple objects nearby. Distance is roughly about two hundred thousand kilometers off the port bow. Looks like a debris field of some kind.”

“Amara, any life signs,” the Captain inquired.

“Scanning sir.” Amara worked her sensors. “No life signs detected. However, I have picked up two residual energy trails. The energy signatures seem to match that of Federation starship lifeboats.”

“Lifeboats? That would mean a Federation starship crew has to abandon ship for some reason,” Commander Aramis mentioned from the Tactical station, as he used the tactical sensors to track the lifeboats.

“Correct Commander,” Amara confirmed Aramis’s statement.

“The bigger question is why would there be lifeboats,” Kirok thoughtfully asked.

“Sir, I’m reading something on a piece of wreckage. Scanning it now…” Amara was still looking at her display screen. “It’s definitely material from a Federation starship. I’m reading duranium composites. I’ve locked onto a larger piece that has some markings on it.” She worked her computer console, tapping keys. “On screen sir.”

Captain Kirok Skyrunner’s eyes widened as the viewscreen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow over the bridge. He stood up out of his command chair, as if getting closer can afford to allow him to see better. The image that coalesced before them was one of devastation and destruction, a chunk of a broken starship, twisted and torn, hung suspended in the darkness.

As the Carlsbad’s sensors refined the image, the details became clearer. The wreckage appeared to be from the primary hull of a Federation starship, its sleek lines and curved surfaces now shattered and distorted. The metal was scorched and blackened, evidence of intense heat and energy.

Kirok’s gaze was drawn to the markings on the wreckage, emblazoned on the hull in bold, silver letters. His heart sank as he read the words: ‘NCC-63832’ and ‘USS Thunderdragon’.

A shiver ran down Kirok’s spine as he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He took a step backwards, misstepped and landed on the floor, stunned.

“No, no, no! It can’t be. That can not be the Thunderdragon!”

As he spoke, his anger erupted from deep within himself, like a warp core breach. His overwhelming anger spilled into what he said.

Lieutenant Commander Amara inquired, “what is wrong?”

Kirok snapped his stare at her, ready to spit plasma at her, his anger unchecked. Before Kirok could say anything, Commander Aramis responded.

“It was the Captain’s wife’s ship Amara. Starfleet Command listed her officially missing last month.”

“Oh crap! I’m so sorry Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Amara said apologetically.

Aramis glanced at Kirok as Kirok turned his attention from Amara to Aramis. Kirok’s face softened slightly.

The USS Thunderdragon was his old ship. It was the vessel where he had cut his teeth as the Executive Officer, under the mentoring of his wife. He had served on the Thunderdragon for twelve years, forging unbreakable bonds with his crewmates and learning the intricacies of command, plus his wife commanded the Thunderdragon.

Now, it seemed, the Thunderdragon was gone, a victim of some catastrophic event. Kirok’s mind reeled with questions. What had happened to the ship? Did anyone survive? What were the circumstances surrounding its destruction?

As the Carlsbad’s crew began to analyze the wreckage, Kirok couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring into the face of tragedy. The USS Thunderdragon, a ship that had once been his home, now lay broken and still, a haunting reminder of the dangers that lurked in the vast expanse of space.

Everyone was quiet, waiting for orders. The helmsman kept his eyes glued to his console, surveying the debris field. The science officer kept scanning the wreckage, trying to answer possible questions as to what happened to the Thunderdragon. The other bridge officers kept their eyes on their stations. No one dared bother the Captain. Commander Aramis slowly stepped to the command chair from the Operations station. He stopped next to Kirok and knelt next to his friend.

“Kirok,” he said softly, “you need to get up sir. We still need to do our duties, especially with finding out what happened to your wife’s ship. We can grieve later.”

Kirok looked at the viewscreen for a moment, finding the inner strength to continue. He raised a hand up and Aramis grabbed it, helping his long friend to his feet.

“You are right my friend. I’m a Starfleet Officer and a Captain. My apologies for my breach of protocol everyone. Commander Aramis is right…we have a duty to find out what happened here…and make them pay for what they have done!”

Commander Aramis looked at Amara. “Track those lifeboat energy signatures.”

Lieutenant Commander Amara nodded and went back to her scanners, then reported her findings.

“The energy signatures are on a heading towards a Class M planet that is over one million kilometers away, heading two-seven-zero mark fourty-two.”

“Helm, alter course and engage at best speed,” Captain Skyrunner had ordered, after regaining his composure.

“Changing course Captain,” the helmsman said. The helmsman tapped commands into his station. “Estimated time for arrival is about five hours at half impulse power.”

“Very well Ensign, thank you.”

He straightened his uniform and retook his command chair. He looked at the viewscreen, determined to find the Thunderdragon and his wife, hopefully still alive.