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Part of USS Typhoon: S1E1 | Valora and Bravo Fleet: New Frontiers

Chapter Seven — Calculated Risks

Published on November 14, 2025
USS Typhoon (NCC-90000), high orbit of Eyen, Valan System, Valora Reach, Trialen Patch, Shackleton Expanse, Beta Quadrant
Stardate 2402.11 | 1026 hours
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“Sir,” began T’Ren over the channel. “Dr. Artin has completed five scans to confirm. His findings are verified. The entrance we used to get here has ceased to exist.” The chief science officer’s voice was clipped, betraying no emotion. The viewscreen flickered, distorted by distance and the limited subspace infrastructure in the region.

“Acknowledged Commander,” Captain D’Antonio responded, his tone measured but weary. “I want you to return to the Typhoon.”

“Captain,” she started, her voice tight but faltering for just a moment, a subtle shift only D’Antonio caught. “I request permission to continue our study of the nebula. I believe that under continued observation we may be able to locate a new corridor.”

D’Antonio sighed. He had expected this; T’Ren never let go of a scientific mystery easily. But the risk was too high. “T’Ren, Everest thought they had stabilized the corridor. I’m not sure your team staying can… restabilize it enough for us to travel through it.”

“Sir,” Dr. Artin’s voice cut through, urgent and sharp, a stark contrast to T’Ren’s even delivery. “If we continue studying the nebula, we might be able to isolate the source of this heartbeat signature. Which  could help us generate a new corridor.”

“Absolutely not,” Commander Pressly snapped. The executive officer despised when lives were gambled and he’d already done that once in the last day. “You don’t know what—”

D’Antonio raised a hand, silencing Pressly. He agreed with the sentiment, but he also knew when to bend. “T’Ren, I’m allowing you to stay,” he said, raising a finger for emphasis. “But you have forty-eight hours to find the source of that heartbeat or you’re coming home.”

“Understood, Captain,” T’Ren replied. Her voice remained controlled, but a faint undertone of gratitude slipped through. Magnolia out.”

The transmission ended with a soft click.

D’Antonio glanced to his right. He didn’t disagree with his XO but if Artin believed they could create their own corridor, it might be worth the risk. The pair exchanged a silent conversation, each knowing the other’s position was sound but neither willing to concede aloud. The soft hiss of the turbolift doors broke the moment, drawing both their attention as Lieutenant Korul stepped onto the bridge. His hands were full as he neatly balanced four PADDs against his side. His posture was rigid, his movements disciplined.

“Sirs,” he began, his voice steady but carrying a faint tremor that Pressly didn’t miss. “I have an update.”

“Mr. K’Tal, you have the bridge,” D’Antonio ordered as he and Pressly rose from their seats. “Signal Commander Dvren to join us in my ready room.”

“Aye, sir.”

Once inside, stormwatch, the four senior officers of the ships, sat with quiet anticipation as they waited for Korul’s briefing to begin. D’Antonio took his place at his desk, Pressly beside him while Adler and Dvren settled on the sofa.

“We’ve decided to approach the foreign secretary,” Korul began, distributing the PADDs to the officers. His tone clipped and detached, the same efficient delivery he always used for intelligence briefings. “He’s the most likely not to expose our investigation and the least likely to be removed from his position if his involvement were discovered.”

“Wouldn’t that put us in a…” Adler hesitated, searching for the right word. As the ship’s diplomatic officer, she needed to know her role wasn’t being undermined. “A precarious position regarding our talks? The foreign secretary has been our point of contact since our arrival in Valen space.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dvren interjected, his tusked mouth in a hard line. “Shipmaster Kreek-ven has continued to act as a middleman despite being ordered to return to his patrol.” The Telleriate engineer still despised the plan.

D’Antonio exhaled, setting the PADD down on the desk, “Do you have a second option?”

“The daughter of one of the trader conglomerate leaders, Maysha un-Rel,” Korul replied, swiping across D’Antonio’s PADD to highlight a dossier. “She’s aligned with the isolationist movement, but she represents our best chance to access the upper echelons of governance.”

“This is the same problem as before,” Dvren said, his tone flat. “Couldn’t this sabotage further talks with the Republic?”

“To say these options wouldn’t compromise our position would be a lie,” Korul admitted, joining Adler and Dvren on the sofa. “But it’s better to speak into the ear of a politician than into that of a trader.”

He paused, letting the room fall silent as his meaning sank in.

“Let’s bring in Maysha,” D’Antonio ordered, his tone sharp leaving no room for further discussion. “Do it quietly and try to ensure the government doesn’t find out. Or their trader overlords.” Although he still held his reservations he trusted the Lumerian lieutenant wouldn’t initiate a regime change. Still, Korul was an intelligence officer and those types were always up to something.

“Any parameters you want to set for my team?” Korul asked. He understood their reservations; he’d done research into the Earth’s old intelligence agencies, the ones they had spoken of earlier, but he had no intention in repeating their mistakes.

Adler looked between them, hesitant to voice what everyone else was thinking. “Just don’t destroy a relationship we’ve just begun cultivating.”

“Yes ma’am,” Korul replied crisply. He rose from his seat, gave a respectful nod to D’Antonio then exited the ready room.

For a long moment, silence lingered as the doors hissed shut behind him. The faint vibration of the Typhoon’s engines filled the pause.

Pressly moved from behind the desk, joining Adler and Dvren where Korul had been sitting moments earlier.

“I think it goes without saying,” Dvren began, his tone steady but laced with frustration, “this could lead to an epic clusterfuck.” The Tellarite chief engineer had opposed this level of intervention when Korul first suggested and still his opinion hadn’t changed.

The deck thrummed softly beneath their feet, the ship’s heartbeat echoing his sentiment.

D’Antonio leaned back in his chair, the weight of command settling on his shoulders once more. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “But if Korul’s right, it could serve as a vital piece in our mission in the region.”

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