A Vaadwaur assault team advanced down the corridor after beaming aboard the small scout ship, their bodies tense as they swept the path before them. The corridors of the ship were hauntingly empty, the soft crimson strobe of the alert lights casting ominous shadows in the wide, silent halls of the Pulsar. Every step the group took seemed to echo around them, the absence of actual klaxon going off producing an almost maddening effect in the minds of the invaders.

The team stepped into several of the compartments as they moved, finding each one as empty as the last. With each room cleared came a deepening sense of foreboding within the group, though none of them wanted to be the first to make mention of the absurdity of a ship that had managed to clear the battlefield of so many of their smaller fighters could actually be empty. As they continued toward their target, the ship’s engineering section, their formation became tighter and much more agitated, heads jerking from one side to the other at even the slightest tremor in the bulkhead or creak from the deck.

When the group had made it deep enough into the ship to hear the thrumming of the warp cores that were, figuratively and literally, the beating heart of the Pulsar, some of the tension they had been holding in their bodies relaxed slightly. They’d made it all the way to their destination uninterrupted, causing them to slacken their guard just a little… just enough not to notice that their footfalls were emitting the faintest of crunching sounds as they began to round the soft curve in the corridor that would bring them into the Engineering section.

When the pulsing electric-blue light began to cascade along the bulkheads, the Vaadwaur began to notice that each exhalation was creating a barely perceptible mist before their eyes, a sharp contrast to the warm temperatures they had been wreathed since beaming aboard. The collective realization rippled the group as if a chain of dominoes had been topped over, with the last Vaadwaur bringing up the rear spinning around as if to escape whatever might be laying in wait for them just up ahead. The sharp, unceremonious snap of a barrier forcefield cut off the only route of escape just as the Vaadwaur tried to cross it, tossing him backward with force great enough to pull the intruder off their feet and onto the icy deck.

The Vaadwaur still on their feet all turned to their prone companion, the moment of distraction long enough for them to fail to notice the crunching footfalls approaching them with a slow, deliberate gait. When the group’s leader finally returned his attention forward, he beheld a balding man clad in a mustard-colored uniform standing just a few meters ahead of them, his face a perfect mask of disdain.

“I was wondering who might be skulking around while I’ve been trying so hard to keep this ship together. You wouldn’t happen to be here to ruin all of my hard work, now, would you?” the oddly calm Human addressed the group.

Rather than respond to the question verbally, every Vaadwaur not splayed out on the deck lifted their rifles and unloaded a wave of bright blue polaron bolts into what they assumed to be a living creature, determined to bring him down in a hell storm of death. Their expectations were instantly subverted when the tsunami of violent energy blasts sailed harmlessly through the being, cracking sharply against another forcefield they hadn’t perceived being erected. The frown on the bald man’s face only deepened at the attempt.

“Hardly a proper response,” the man grumbled as if speaking only to himself, “No matter. Manners were never my forte either. Computer… activate vents twenty-seven echo and foxtrot.”

A sharp hissing sound filled the Vaadwaur’s ears as a dense fog streamed from hidden ports lining the ceiling of the corridor. The slow, methodical rolling of the semi-translucent white mist began to quicken as the hissing sound grew louder and more persistent. First, it obfuscated the Starfleet officer, swirling around and through him as if it were nothing more than a hallucination. Then, as if it had gained some manner of sentience, surged at the Vaadwaur, assailing their bodies with a sense of cold so penetrating that their minds soon gave up trying to articulate the sensation. After what seemed to be an eternity, the mist dissipated, leaving the Human-looking being surrounded by the flash-frozen corpses of the would-be saboteurs.

“Well… now that that is done… back to it,” the hologram said dispassionately as he returned unhindered into the Engineering section.

Elsewhere on the Pulsar, another group was making their own way through the ship, encountering the same disconcerting silence and emptiness as the team that had made their way to the Engineering section. Their own sweep of compartments, however, brought them into the mess hall, the room fully illuminated with a soft, melodic soundtrack of music wafting through the space as if in direct opposition to the chaos of a battle being fought in space just outside the large windows of the room. And at the center of it all, a bald Human wearing a sharp but functional black outfit busying himself behind the bar.

When the group of Vaadwaur surged into the room, weapons pointed at the man, he seemed to light up, as if he were all too happy to see them, “Gentlemen… and perhaps a lady or two. Welcome… welcome! I have plenty of tables available, have a seat anywhere you like!”

What should have happened, what would have been entirely expected to occur in that moment was a wave of death to lash out at the man, intent on bringing him low so they could move on with their search for far more important sections of the ship to sabotage. What actually happened was a short and confused pause as a few rifle muzzles sank downward just a bit, and one of the Vaadwaur offered just the slightest chuckle of amusement.

“Oh, come come now, no need to be shy!” the man said, waving them toward him with an almost unhinged smile spread across his face.

Tension tightened the jaws and grips of the Vaadwaur for a moment, their eyes refocusing on the man with renewed bloodlust. And then the bloodlust started to fizzle, as if the very air was drawing it out of them with each passing breath. Once ready weapons slumped down, their owners falling out of their ready stances as if it were only natural that they be relaxed. They started to look at one another as if they were confused as to why they had seen such a harmless, genial creature as a threat in the first place.

“Yes…” the man said, his smile widening as the Vaadwaur started to shuffle into the room, weapons now slung as if they were taking a short break from a regular duty day. The room suddenly filled with idle chatter from the intruders as they shuffled themselves into a large booth with a beautiful view of the intense fighting out in space.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” the bald man addressed the group, who bobbed their heads as if they agreed with the sentiment entirely. This just seemed to make their host all the more enthusiastic as he hurried to the table with glasses filled with water. He set each glass down in front of the chatting Vaadwaur, tucking the tray up under his arm once he was through.

“I’ll give you folks a moment to discuss what you’d like to order. Please, try some of our fresh, never replicated water while you decide,” the man said with the same manic smile he’d showed them when they started to shuffle inside.

Glasses began to rise off the table, a few of the Vaadwaur even toasting their ‘victory’ as they sipped at the water, their eyes slowly but steadily losing focus. Their host just wandered back to the bar, his smug smile a permanent fixture as he watched over the group laughing and cheering at the table, completely oblivious to their plight. As time began to tick away, the Vaadwaur slowly began to lose the ability to communicate coherently, words getting slurred and all sense of syntax escaping their grasp. And then… the first head thudded to the table.

The hologram sucked in a satisfied breath, “Ah… I do so love a satisfied customer.”

Soon after, a symphony of heads slamming to the table filled the room as each Vaadwaur succumbed to some manner of slumber, with the last one holding on just long enough to mutter a perplexed ‘why’ before falling limply to the surface like all the rest.

“Why?” the hologram repeated the question before laughing maniacally, “Because, my dear invader, you weren’t on the guest list. And we don’t take too kindly to that sort of thing around here.”

Ensign Corwin Adler sat slumped in the center chair on the bridge, his head cradled in one hand as the thrum of his headache faded further into the periphery of his awareness. The main computer had done an admirable job keeping them away from the larger vessels that could cripple the Pulsar while still managing to rain destruction down upon the small vessel it did outclass. His sole purpose had been to recuperate, at least according to the Emergency Medical Hologram before his departure to parts of the ship unknown.

“How are you feeling, Ensign,” the voice of one of the ship’s holograms asked from somewhere behind him, which spurred the young man to turn in his chair to find the Emergency Command Hologram freshly returned from the interior of the vessel.

“Is everything okay?” the Ensign asked, unsure as to why the ECH would be back on the bridge when they were in the midst of an invasion.

“If one were struggling for a descriptor, I suppose ‘okay’ would do in a pinch,” the hologram countered dryly.

Corwin frowned as a sharp pang assaulted his head, “I’m asking about the intruders.”

A tiny smirk tugged at the hologram’s lips as the Ensign snapped at him. It seemed that being thrown into the middle of a battle had done wonders to sharpen the Ensign’s tongue a bit, something the ECH was happy to see. He’d been vastly more polite than the hologram thought was appropriate for him in his station, and to see a little of that detached civility fall away showed remarkable growth in his personality. At least from the ECH’s point of view.

“Ah… our uninvited guests,” the ECH said as if he’d been confused as to what Adler had been asking after, “You will be pleased to know that all of the teams that have beamed aboard are now… pacified.”

“Pacified?” Corwin parroted.

The hologram nodded, “Yes. Pacified. Offering no further resistance. Incapable of carrying out their intended destruction aboard the ship. Whichever you prefer.”

“Did…” Adler winced again as another pang of discomfort assailed him, “Did they manage to damage the ship at all?”

“There was a bit of collateral damage, yes…” the ECH replied tersely, “But it was minimal and my engineering compatriot has assured me that he will have it all cleaned up as soon as the fighting has ceased in the system. And no… he does not require your assistance.”

“Ah…” the Ensign said, deflating a little after being denied even the hint of a chance to ask to do something engineering related.

The hologram made his way passed the Ensign, intent on resuming his piloting duties. The dismissive manner in which he’d approached reporting the successful repulsion of the boarding party nagged at the young man, enough that he couldn’t help but ask, “How did you all do it?”

The ECH paused in mid-step and turned back to the Ensign, “Through the judicious execution of Starfleet protocol.”

“That…” Corwin frowned, “That’s not an answer…”

“It is, in fact, an answer,” the hologram retorted, “The details are… cumbersome. I suggest, respectfully, that we focus on the tasks ahead of us. There are times, Ensign Adler, when the Captain must simply give an order and be content when that order has been reported as being carried out. Results, my dear boy, are all that matter right now.”

Corwin’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at the hologram. He wanted to refute the words, the logic behind the hologram’s statement. Something about the way he said it, his tone, unnerved him. But perhaps because he relied on the ECH, on all of the holograms, for guidance, he couldn’t bring himself to voice his unease.

“Thank you,” he said instead, “For keeping me safe…”

“That is my sole purpose, Ensign,” the hologram said in a sober manner, devoid of the usual snark.