The science lab was already in full use when Valance stepped inside. Consoles hummed under the pale lights, and the holo-displays over the central table shimmered with the latest sensor data from the asteroid base. Airex and Cortez stood before it, the clean uniforms they’d changed into from EV suits at odds with their smudged faces, both looking like they hadn’t stopped since beaming back aboard. Beckett lingered nearby, a PADD tucked under one arm, eyes fixed on the rotating hologram of the facility.

‘The Qor’otan has left the system, we suspect,’ Valance said by way of greeting. ‘Report.’

Cortez exhaled, gesturing at the display. ‘We’ve confirmed the asteroid housed two separate systems: the habitation complex and the pulse array. They were built by the same hands, but the design philosophies couldn’t be more different. The base is crude – heavy industrial fabrication, the equivalent of late-22nd century Federation at best. The array’s another story.’

Airex folded his arms. ‘The technology is far beyond what they should have been capable of – particularly the interdimensional lattice built into the array structure. It’s precise, elegant. Able to channel energy into an interdimensional space.’

‘Which someone used to fire a tri-quantum pulse,’ Beckett said quietly. ‘And then got themselves killed.’

Valance nodded at that. ‘Tell me about the crew.’

‘There was some sort of energy backlash,’ said Cortez, making a face. ‘I think the pulse wasn’t a “fire and forget” – it was sustained. Piped through subspace folds at the beacon, then at the Vadia system to create the fissure. When the Borg changed the fissure, systems here overloaded. Power conduits ruptured, leaking toxins into the atmosphere faster than life support could scrub it. Killed everyone aboard.’

Valance’s jaw tightened. ‘But the array survived.’

‘It was intact,’ said Cortez. ‘Very low power. That power, uh. Is what overloaded and killed Brok’tan. Now it’s dead. We were trying to access its systems again when things were fun up here – all I got was a radiation surge we had to suit up for again before it dissipated.’

‘That’s what cut us off from contact,’ Airex added. ‘But the systems are now wholly unresponsive.’

‘It’s not all bad news,’ said Cortez quickly. ‘We had one good find.’ She keyed a button and the holo-display changed for the projection of a boxy vessel. ‘We found the crew’s ship. Big old freighter-looking thing.’

Valance’s eyes swept across it. ‘That’s promising. Any luck getting into its records? We need to know who these people are. We’re close to a “how” for this fissure, but we’re nowhere near a “why” or a “who.”’

‘It shouldn’t be too complicated. Again, these people don’t have a very complex baseline level of technology. At the very least, I should be able to get nav data out of the core.’ Cortez shifted as Valance’s eyes fell on her. ‘Which I’ll get started on. Right now.’

‘See what you can extract,’ Valance confirmed. ‘And see if you need to bring the whole thing aboard. Or components. We need a name, a world – something.’ Cortez collected her tools and left, and she turned to the others. ‘Anything else?’

‘Only theories,’ said Airex. ‘But we have a lot of data to get through.’

‘How’s Commander Logan?’ Beckett piped up.

Valance grimaced. ‘Doctor Starik reports he’s stable. I can’t tell if he’s being cagey or Vulcan.’

‘Usually both,’ Beckett muttered, shifting his feet. ‘Anyway, I’m happy to help wherever needed.’

‘Here,’ Airex said quickly. ‘I want to start with the connective tissue, or lack thereof, between the technologies. Your A&A experience will be invaluable, Lieutenant.’

‘I’ll let you get to it,’ Valance said, crisp and tense. ‘Turn theories into facts, fast. The lab’s yours, Commander.’

When she was gone, silence settled, the hum of the consoles filling the space between the two men.

‘She’s right,’ Beckett muttered after a moment, tapping through the files. ‘It’s all a lot of data that’s not pulling together yet.’ He realised Airex hadn’t moved and looked up. ‘Sorry, sir. It’s not a criticism.’

Airex shook his head. ‘I was waiting for you to suggest where we start.’ At his confused look, his lips curled. ‘This is more your area than mine.’

‘Oh.’ He’d thought of Airex as all-knowing for so long that it was difficult to imagine having any academic advantage over him. Beckett blinked and stepped back, looking at the display for a beat. Then he clicked his fingers. ‘Language. The glyphs carved onto the consoles and interfaces for the array aren’t the same as the language of the main facility systems. Cultural artefacts might give us something more useful than physics.’

‘The universality of mathematics is occasionally unhelpful,’ Airex said wryly, and they set to work.

The computer chirped softly as it examined the alien glyphs taken from the facility’s consoles, the translation algorithms and databanks giving no quick answers.

After a time, Beckett frowned. ‘There’s repetition to these inscriptions across interfaces. But they’re quite lengthy, sophisticated. I don’t think this is functional text; this is art, or religion.’

‘Or both,’ mused Airex.

‘I know it’s a long shot,’ said Beckett, tapping more commands, ‘but we should directly cross-reference it with our archives. The array is hugely advanced technologically; if there’s a link between the design and this culture, we shouldn’t assume it’s been limited to the Expanse by the Shroud.’

‘And maybe the Romulans or Klingons have had a bite,’ Airex agreed. ‘Something like this would stand out.’

The search was not quick. Beckett knew it was more than feeding all data into the computer and hoping for pattern recognition; too much, and it might not identify connective tissue. Too little, and there wasn’t enough to go on. He focused on segments of the glyphs, but as it scrolled through what little they shared of the Romulan and Klingon databanks to no avail, his heart sank.

‘Maybe we did need Torkath,’ he grumbled. ‘Or Caede.’

‘If we bring this back to the squadron,’ Airex said softly, ‘we can liaise with -’

‘Match identified,’ the computer chirped, and they both stared as a file flashed up. Not Romulan or Klingon, but Starfleet. Old.

Beckett blinked. ‘2261. USS Enterprise. “Vezda.” What?’

‘I’ve never heard of it,’ Airex admitted. He keyed the file open, and a mid-23rd century Starfleet report flickered to life: the redacted log of Captain Christopher Pike’s encounter with entities of ‘interdimensional origin.’

‘Holy shit,’ Beckett breathed. ‘Vadia IX. This is it.’

‘Easy, Lieutenant,’ said Airex quickly, though there was a hitch to his voice as he scrolled. ‘This correlation with glyphs and technological design markers is far from conclusive. We’ve got a crew of dead aliens, when this talks about corpse animation…’

Then he went very still.

Beckett watched. ‘Commander?’

It was like Airex’s whole body shifted, a sudden fluidity to his movements as he smacked his combadge and headed for the door. ‘Computer, locate Commanders Kharth and Logan.’

‘Commander Kharth and Lieutenant Commander Logan are in Sickbay –’

Airex bolted for the door.

The doors to Sickbay parted before Airex could call for clearance. The room beyond was serene, normal: nurses moving between biobeds, the low hum of monitors, the faint antiseptic tang in the air. For half a heartbeat, he thought he’d made a mistake.

Then he heard it – the muffled crash from the door to the private room at the far end.

He was moving before anyone else reacted, his boots pounding across the deck. One of the nurses called after him, but the shout died as he slapped the door control and the panel hissed open.

Kharth was pinned against the bulkhead, feet barely touching the floor. Logan stood before her, one hand locked around her throat, the other braced beside her head. The headset Starik had fitted for ocular regeneration hung loose around his neck. The skin around his eyes was blackened, seared – and the sockets beneath were empty.

For a heartbeat, Airex froze, his brain struggling to reconcile the data. …Ensign Gamble was clinically dead, but was possessed by this entity with perfect capacity to mimic his identity –

Then Kharth’s hand scrabbled uselessly against Logan’s wrist, and the strangled noise that came from her throat made the choice for him.

‘Sae!’ Airex’s voice cracked like a whip. He yanked the phaser from his belt and fired.

The beam struck the figure of Logan straight in the chest – but instead of falling, he only staggered. The thing wearing his body turned its head towards Airex, the black hollows of its eyes piteous and dark.

‘Here he is.’ Logan’s low drawl came out in a mocking rasp. ‘The killer and monster, so desperate to be your saviour, Cara Sai.’

Airex’s gut roiled as his eyes flashed between the thing that looked like Jack Logan, and Kharth, slumped against the wall, clutching her throat as she choked and sobbed. His thumb nudged up the power on the phaser.

‘A security team’s on its way,’ he said, jaw tight, not advancing even though he wanted to put himself between the two of them. ‘Stand down, and this will all go easier.’

Even eyeless, the look the figure gave the phaser bore a telling amount of caution. Then it tilted its head. ‘No,’ said ‘Logan’ at last. ‘Don’t reckon I will. This one’s lived a lot of lives. Seen things even I’ve never dreamt of.’ It lifted a hand to tap the scorched remains of the Borg ocular implant around the empty eye socket. ‘Enough sleep. S’time to wake up.’

Airex had his phaser aimed and ready, and yet when ‘Logan’ threw its other hand up, he was too slow to react. The wave of bright light was first blinding – then enough to knock him flying. When he could see again, blinking spots away from his eyes as he picked himself up off the deck, there was no sign of Logan.

He smacked his combadge. ‘Security! He’s got past us. Find him!’

But Kharth was now slumped on the deck, pressed against the bulkhead, arms wrapped around herself. He staggered towards her, falling to his knees.

‘Sae – he’s gone, you’re safe…’

She flinched as his hands reached her shoulders. Already, her throat was red, livid, and her voice rasped and shook as her eyes met his like he, too, might turn rabid at any moment.

‘What was that?’

Airex swallowed, still kneeling, hands still raised even though he didn’t reach for her again. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted. ‘But it wasn’t Jack Logan.’