“Captain’s log, stardate seven-nine-seven-two-four. The Orion is on course to rendezvous with the Triton to begin studying a rare group of nucleogenic cloud beings. This species is uncommon, and only one member of their race was encountered by Voyager during its early weeks in the Delta Quadrant. After weeks of dealing with diplomatic exchanges, some scientific study is a welcome break for everyone.”

The turbolift doors hissed open, and Lieutenant Commander Kulucis stopped short. A dozen meters ahead, the senior staff filed out of the lift still wearing the costumes from Florrick’s promotion ceremony. Each of them carried the casual grin of people who had been pretending to be someone else for an hour.

Kulucis let the corner of his mouth lift as he smirked at the scene before him. “Do I want to know where all of you have been?” he asked, equal parts amusement and mock.

Anderson gave a polished bow. “Saving Neverland, naturally. You should have come, sir; I might’ve taught you how to fly.”

Kulucis inclined his head. “Last time I commented on your skimpy outfit, you tried to recruit me to your cause,” he said, folding his arms. “I’m glad you’ve taken my advice and matured.”

Anderson’s grin softened. “Mature enough to keep the tights at bay, Commander!”

Kulucis allowed himself a genuine chuckle. The brief exchange was warm; the awkwardness from their earlier argument, several months ago, had long since given way to an easy camaraderie. Kulucis had come to get to know Anderson, and the two had since forged a good friendship.

Captain Mo’Lee-Krabreii entered the bridge via her ready room, moving with the calm deliberation that steadied the room. “Apologies for interrupting the festivities, I hope Scott wasn’t too disappointed,” she said, eyes sweeping the colourful scene before her without judgment. “But we’ve got a contact on our course that just appeared out of nowhere. Everyone to your stations, please.”

Commander Saval was already standing behind the mission ops stations. “Long-range sweep confirms a vessel, dead ahead,” he reported. “It’s adrift.”

“How much damage can we see, Kulucis?” Mo’Lee-Krabreii asked, taking the centre seat as Saval moved to sit beside her to her right.

Kulucis was now sitting at the science station, performing intensive scans of the unknown object before them. “Hull integrity nominal. No plasma scoring, no signs of collision. Power systems are offline. No emissions, no warp or impulse signature detectable. There are no active beacons or distress calls.” His face remained composed, but the bridge had gone very quiet. “And no life signs. No thermal or bio traces at all.”

“So how did they get here?” Jines asked aloud, sharing the same thing everyone was now thinking.

“Bring us to one-quarter impulse, Mister Jines and bring us within five kilometres,” Krabreii ordered. “Kulucis, I want a spectral sweep. Cheryon, stand by for a hull probe launch.”

For the next several minutes, the bridge became a hive of methodical, probing work. Kulucis ran layered spectral analyses, tachyon sweeps, low-energy subspace sampling, and magnetic anomaly maps while Cheryon configured a microprobe to spiral in for high-resolution hull imaging. Each pass over the ship confirmed the same strange facts: the hull was whole, plating unscraped, no energy residue to show where she had come from or how she had stopped, and no sign of life aboard.

“What if there’s someone over there we can’t detect?” Anderson interjected.

“What do you suggest we do?” Tomraf asked from one of the side stations. “Hail them?”

“Would it be a bad move?” Anderson asked.

Krabreii looked at Saval. “It’s not a bad idea; we’ve tried everything else.”

Saval nodded in confirmation before ordering Bollwyn to open a channel.

She hailed them.

Silence.

After several more empty moments, she pinged the hull with passive probes; nothing. The microprobe conducted a complete surface analysis and returned only data that raised more questions. Construction alloys that were not immediately traceable to any known design lineage, and microetchings that suggested age but lacked a manufacturer’s signature.

Kulucis exchanged a look with Saval. The thing did not appear to be an ordinary derelict. It read like something that had been deliberately put down and then abandoned.

Minutes stretched.

The bridge held its breath as the Orion closed to inspection range, systems humming quietly as scanners peeled back layer after layer.

“It’s too clean,” Kulucis observed finally. “There’s intent behind this absence.”

No sooner had he spoken than the stars ahead flared white as three alien hulls dropped out of warp and articulated into firing positions. They did not decloak or phase in; they appeared, warp bleed finishing like a cut across the sky.

“Yellow alert,” Krabreii ordered as she gazed at their sudden arrivals. “Who are they?”

“Captain, our sensors have determined they belong to the Botha,” Saval said after studying his console for a brief moment.

“Red alert,” Krabreii snapped. “All hands to battle stations.”

It was evident that the captain knew much about the Botha. All of them had been briefed about the aliens in this region of the Nacene Reach. The captain was not taking any risks in putting the ship to its highest alert status.
However, before the crew could finish the order, energy lances arced toward the Orion. The first impacts sent ripples through the shields; interior lights flickered. Then the worst: a series of shimmering projectors, non-kinetic and patterned, burst from the Bothan ships and swept across the Orion’s decks.

Saval’s fingers tightened on his console. “They are attempting to emit a neurogenic field, aimed at us.” He hit a sequence to rotate the shield frequencies.

Kulucis quickly scanned the field as it began to appear. “It appears to be designed to target cortical activity!”

“More incoming fire, plasma torpedoes!” Anderson shouted at the top of his voice.

Consoles sparked and went dark as the multiple hits struck against the Orion’s shields. Their repeated hits damaged the Orion in multiple areas.

“Brad, return fire, all weapons!” Krabreii barked above the commotion.

A blunt thump ran through the decks as the ship took a further series of direct hits, and the shields were finally gone. Anderson targeted the enemy ships and didn’t hold back with his firing pattern. Though the Orion’s phasers and quantum torpedoes hit hard against all three ships, destroying one of them, it was not enough to beat the incoming threat, but it reduced their numbers.

Alarms screamed as secondary hull sensors registered multiple minor breaches where external plating had been scorched through.

“Damage report!” cried Krabreii.

“Shields are gone!” Anderson shared from his station, already reaching for emergency protocols.

Nali added more detail from the engineering station. “Main power is down on decks three through six. Hull breaches on the port forward section. Emergency force fields are in place.”

“They are increasing their power in the neurogenic field,” Saval spoke. “At this rate, they will induce comas among the crew.”

“Tomraf, we need a defence against that field,” Krabreii told her chief medical officer as he helped an injured crew member who was lying on the floor.

Before Tomraf could do anything, the neurogenic field’s power rode the commotion like a tide. Around the bridge, officers faltered. Their eyes glazing, hands slipping from consoles as the patterned field reached into the neural network. Someone in engineering coughed and slumped out of view on a feed.

Krabreii’s voice, steady and taut, cut through the rising confusion as she tapped the button on her chair to open a ship-wide channel. “All hands, secure all stations, prepare for boarding parties,” She took a deep breath, realising she was losing her ship. “Computer, deactivate all command functions, voice authorisation Krabreii-one-seven-alpha-foxtrot.”

Even as her commands fell, the neurogenic field continued to press on to the entire crew. It was relentless. The Orion shuddered from more fire as the computer deactivated all systems and locked everyone out of using it.

The remaining two Bothan ships slowly approached the Orion and began preparations to dock with the Starfleet ship.