“We have the dome ship on sensors, bearing three-zero-one mark one-five,” Simmons announced to the compact bridge with an audible tone of excitement.

“A little closer than we might like, but there is sizable sensor interference around the vessel, likely from proximity to the star.” He offered a quick glance at the ship status display in the corner of his console; no adverse warnings on structural integrity despite their solar proximity. They may only be assigned to Spartan temporarily, but Hey’xet would never forgive him if he allowed even the smallest microfissure, borrowed ship or not. “It’s still in the last position reported by Starbase Eighty-Eight.”

Even though their journey hadn’t been a long one–they had a mere week to get used to each other (or not)–there was no denying that proverbial ears perked up the moment sensors detected the unidentified vessel.

After galloping out of the turbolift, Kellin Rayco bounced on his heels with pent-up energy. The Spartan’s bridge was compact, leaving him nowhere else to run to. Without a dedicated station for the first officer, Kellin hedged to his comfort. He took up post at the tactical station, swiping his hands over the controls to initiate a scanner sweep.

Before the sensors could even offer anything, Kellin enthused, “We’re here.”

Brennan glanced at Kellin, and whatever resentment she still harboured dissipated in an instant. Because this was work. This was discovery. And even though she didn’t know the particulars yet, she had no doubt that Simmons would fill her in.

“On screen,” she said, and took her seat in the centre chair.

A bulbous dome sat atop a stubby cluster of exposed supports appeared on the small viewscreen, its voluminous form pushing against the frame despite its digital nature. Hexagonal panels covered the curving hemisphere like scales, converting the reflection of the nearby young yellow sun into a golden shimmer that danced with the waxing and waning of the stellar corona. From its root like belly, long, arcing golden wings unfurled into the darkness, their intricate woven membranes potmarked with long gashes and tears. Telltale signs of a long and arduous journey.

“The vessel is several hundred meters long and does not appear to be energised. I’m detecting no signs of conventional engines or evidence of an active warp core.” Simmons narrowed his eyes at the screen with a frown before tapping a small button in the corner to share his scans with Kellin at the tactical station. “I’m not seeing any sign of a power core at all.”

With his eyes locked onto his console, Kellin said, “There’s also nothing resembling an emitter crystal or launcher tube on the outer hull.” He cleared his throat and his formal timbre dropped away, replaced by an upward lilt of wonderment. “Unless they’re sheathed beneath the surface, I don’t detect any weapons systems.”

“I’ve sent a standard greeting,” said Hey’xet. They’d asked to be on the bridge during the first approach, no doubt because the communications station was directly adjacent to the bridge’s engineering station. “No response as of yet.”

“Let’s give them a few minutes,” Brennan replied. “We must look as alien to them as they do to us.”

Nodding at Brennan, Kellin added, “Saying that, our chief medical officer would have the most hands-on experience when it comes to the infinite diversity of xenobiology. She may have a second thought on how to say hello?”

“Good point,” nodded Brennan and opened comms to sickbay. “Doctor Reid, we could use our First Contact specialist on the bridge.”

“On my way.”

A few minutes later, she stepped onto the small bridge, a PADD in hand.  “Reporting as ordered.”  She was still getting to know this ragtag team.  The small comfort of sickbay had been a quiet respite, but duty called.  Reid pulled up the data from the sensors on her PADD, “What a curious thing.”  She shifted over to a side console, tapping at it.  “You’ve already sent the standard greeting.  That checks that box.”  Another run of fingers on the console, and a staring contest with the display before she turned to the expectant eyes, “Sensors are denoting life–our standard greeting is tuned to interact with humanoid systems or similar… what if it’s not humanoid?”  She went to work on her PADD, sorting through various alien types.

“What if they’re not there at all?” Simmons added as he nibbled at his bottom lip, a telltale sign that his brain hadn’t quite caught up to his subconscious. “I’m not detecting bio-signs, or more accurately, any individual bio-signs. It’s just one massive…” He pinched his lip sharply as he struggled for the word. “…thing.”

“Thing?” Brennan asked, eyebrow raised. “Is that your professional opinion? Can we get a little more specific?”

Simmons tapped a few commands into the small science console, causing the viewscreen to spew forth a half dozen smaller popouts. Broken hull sections, twisted membranes and small white plumes of escaping atmosphere filled their oblong forms, each a testament to some mysterious encounter.

“There’s a lot of damage; perhaps they were forced to abandon ship?” He mused with a small furrowing of his dark eyebrows. “There’s a large amount of organic…”

Simmons’ jaw hung slightly slack, pulling his chin into a long streak.

“The vessel’s construction appears to be organic in nature. I’m not detecting the normal resonant frequencies of tritanium or traditional construction materials.” He let out a low grumble as he thumbed the screen. “I can’t be sure. I’m struggling to see anything beyond the very outer edges of the ship; this interference field is just so dense.”

“I might have a solution for that,” said Hey’xet as they glided back over to the engineering station. “A multiphasic scan would be able to penetrate through some of the radiation from the nearby star that is currently disrupting Lieutenant Simmons’s readings. However–”

Hey’xet spun to face the crew, their tentacles trailing like ribbons. “I would have to direct the scan through the deflector dish, so we would not be able to travel at warp or impulse. The ship’s mobility would be limited to thrusters only while the scan is running.”

“I don’t like that tradeoff.” Brennan didn’t want to be paranoid–there was currently very little reason for it–but old patterns were difficult to break. She glanced at Kellin. “Your recommendation?”

From his station at the bridge’s aft, Kellin had moved to bite the fingernail of his left thumb, but he shook it off as soon as eyes darted in his direction. Without an immediate plan for how to duplicate the sheer power of a deflector dish aboard a ship as compact as the Spartan, Kellin could only verbalise his thought process aloud.

“Aboard the Dvorak, the electroplasma system was too delicate for creative use of the deflector dish,” Kellin said. He spun on his heel to face the viewscreen, squinting at the mystery ship, as if it might contain the key to its own lock. “One time when our sensors couldn’t pierce nebula radiation, we tractor-tethered a probe array into the nebula. Scanner telemetry was transmitted back along the tractor beam to avoid subspace data loss.”

Kellin tilted his head, and he half-frowned. “It won’t match the signal strength of the deflector, and it’ll expend our entire payload of probes, but it expands the range and gain of our ship’s sensors.”

Brennan drew in a sharp breath. “That’s a compromise. Can you work with that, Lieutenant?”

Hey’xet gave an exaggerated nod of their faceplate. “It is an intriguing and workable solution.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

Hey’xet zipped over to the engineering console. “I will need some time to run a simulation and prepare the probes for launch. Thirty minutes would allow for the most cautious approach, ensuring that we don’t lose all of our probes.”

“I’m sure we can reduce that to twenty with a extra pair of hands,” Simmons added from across the bridge with a toothy smile. “I’ll meet you in the science lab.”

As the crew set off to their tasks, the quiet bubbling excitement that had slowly been filling the air for several days was becoming laser-focused. On the viewscreen, the fractured vision of twisting roots and gossamer wings continued to drift lazily in the stellar wind.

The crew of Spartan would have its secrets. Whether they were prepared for them was another matter.