The bridge was quiet, not with the tension of a ship waiting for something to go wrong, but rather the ordinary of a crew with nothing in particular to do. Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes and Fleet Captain Gérard Devreux had gone down to the planet below for a diplomatic conference, and given that the USS Polaris‘ only purpose was to ferry them to and fro, now it just hung in orbit, waiting for their return.
Captain Titus Bishop, the squadron’s strategic operations officer, sat in the center chair, reviewing the latest sector ops brief from Vice Admiral Grayson. Of note was a recent skirmish between Cassidy Cayde’s USS Lincoln and a belligerent B’rel from a minor Klingon border house, and a progress report from Amit Agarwal’s teams of engineers deployed to worlds still reeling from the Vaadwaur’s summer assault, but other than that, there wasn’t much else. Just an uneventful first week of the new year.
Every few minutes, Captain Bishop would look up. It wasn’t on account of anything in particular, but rather just a habit, a reconfirmation that there really was nothing of interest. And each time, there was nothing.
The pattern did not go unnoticed by Commander Omar Reza, the chief flight control officer of a boat presently parked in orbit. “Are you expecting someone… or something?”
“Oh, what… no, nothing,” Captain Bishop replied as he returned to his PADD.
For as little as the strategic operations officer had to do from the center chair, the pilot of a stationary ship had even less. “Titus, sorry to disappoint, but beyond an errant comet coming into visual range in approximately three zero hours, we aren’t getting any visitors.”
“Just habit, Omar,” Captain Bishop admitted. One always had to be prepared, especially since, if history was to be trusted, trouble went out of its way to find the Polaris. “You know how it is.”
“Oh, I get it,” Commander Reza chuckled. “No one shooting at us, and no extragalactic anomaly threatening to erase us… it’s an odd sensation.”
But it wouldn’t stay that way. The universe had other plans.
Not even five minutes later, an alarm went off at the operations station, cutting through the quiet of the tranquil bridge sharply. Captain Bishop and Commander Reza both sat up and looked over at the operations station.
“Incoming transmission, mayday priority on a civilian band,” the ensign at the operation station declared before being prompted. “Point of origin, Anglesia V.” A small industrial world in the local star cluster, and not one the Polaris had yet paid a visit to.
Commander Reza raised an eyebrow with a hint of amusement. “I don’t remember seeing that on today’s schedule…”
But Captain Bishop ignored the comment, the small talk forgotten as his expression became pure business. “Put it through.”
The serene blue-green world over which they were orbiting vanished on the forward viewer, replaced by a loud, dimly lit facility with people rushing to and fro. There wasn’t panic, but there was a clear, palpable sense of urgency, and standing center frame was a middle-aged man in a plain emergency services jacket with the seal of Anglesia V stitched into the shoulder.
“This is the Federation starship Polaris,” Captain Bishop stated calmly, the quiet on the Polaris the antithesis of whatever was happening on the other side. “How may we be of assistance?”
“Polaris, I am Director Vorian Kedris of Planetary Emergency Management on Anglesia V,” the man began. His tone was not calm, but at least it was controlled, the sort that came from years of training. “We are in the midst of an ongoing incident, facing multiple simultaneous ignitions across our equatorial region.”
“Ignitions?” Captain Bishop raised an eyebrow.
“Fires, Captain,” Director Kedris replied as glanced off-screen, as if checking a display he didn’t particularly want to see. But thankfully, the number hadn’t gone up again. Not yet, at least. “Major ones, nine at present, each originating at or near separate extraction sites and spreading rapidly.”
Fire wasn’t something they thought about much, not with modern climate control systems, fire suppression systems, and all the other technology at their disposal. But that was neither here, nor there, at the moment. That was what was being reported, and that was what needed to be addressed. Given the simultaneity of the events, Captain Bishop went to the obvious next spot. “Do you suspect foul play?”
“We do not believe so,” Director Kedris shook his head without elaborating further. There were more pressing operational items to share. “At least, that’s not something I have time for now. My problem right now, captain, is that I’ve committed every first responder I have, and I can’t keep up with the rate of spread… or, god forbid, another ignition.”
Captain Bishop pulled up a map of Anglesia V on his PADD. Its industrial sites were clustered along the equatorial band, separated from its population centers by quite a distance. “Is this contained to the extraction sites, or are these fires threatening population centers?”
“Not any of our big cities yet…” the director began to say. But then he hesitated. “Or at least, not directly. Wind patterns are unfavorable, but the distances are still significant. Lateral spread isn’t the chief concern… at least, not as much as what’s happening underneath.”
“What do you mean, underneath?” Captain Bishop furled his brow.
“Heat is originating belowgrade, not a traditional surface fire,” Director Kedris explained, a haunted expression overtaking his face. “If subcrustal thermal spread continues outward, that would present a much more serious problem, and then yes, my population centers are under threat.”
Belowgrade? Subcrustal spread? Captain Bishop did not understand what the director was talking about, but he didn’t really need to. They could figure that out later. “Do you have reason to suspect it will spread through that mechanism?”
“At the moment, it could do anything, captain,” Director Kedris lamented, strain now evident in his voice as he considered that reality. “I’m not prepared to speculate, and I have neither the personnel, nor the time to figure it out. Right now, I just need help..”
“Understood,” Captain Bishop nodded, knowing better than to push further. He’d been where this man was, and what Director Kedris needed now was a lifeline, not twenty questions. The captain looked down at his PADD, issued a brief dispatch, and then returned to the screen. “I’m dispatching the USS Procyon immediately for on-site evaluation and assistance. They will work with your team and coordinate back to us with additional resource requests if needed.”
Relief flickered across Director Kedris’ face. But only briefly. He still had an inferno raging, and it would take some time for help to arrive. “Thank you, captain. I just hope it’s enough.”
“And if it’s not, we’ll figure it out together,” Captain Bishop assured him.
