“Sensor sweep 12A complete. Adjusting course to 12B,” Ensign Alanna Barker reported as she tapped at the console, and the USS Buran jumped to warp, arriving at their next sensor area in thirty seconds. Commander Milton Ford sat in the center chair, PADD in hand. They were five days into a month-long mission to do a deep scan of the Federation-Tholian border. Recent scans from Montana Station had worried Commodore Fontana enough to send Buran on a scout mission.
Ford tapped at his PADD. “Start scanning section 12B. Bishop, start the clock.” A quiet tradition had sprung up on the first day involving a stopwatch to see how long it took to clear a section of the search grid. Lieutenant Eleanor Bishop stood behind the two science stations at the rear of the bridge, watching the screens as her science team worked the consoles.
Bishop replied, “Scanning underway. The threat matrix is clear at first pass. Second pass underway now.” She had tied her dark blonde hair up tight behind her head; her blue eyes glancing back and forth. Eleanor appreciated the pace of a starship after her time on Montana Station. There was always something to be searched or scanned in the science department on a starship. “All spatial phenomena remain unchanged from previous surveys. Starting the third pass.” The third pass was the first intensive scan that would take longer. She let a quiet smile cross her lips for a moment before refocusing on the task at hand.
A sudden, sour-sounding alert sprang from the communication station. Bishop was there in seconds, sliding into the chair. The alert repeated as she worked the console. She turned in her chair. “Commander, I’m getting a distress call just across the border. Trying to clear up the interference from the Tholian side.”
Milton tapped the arm of the command chair. “Captain to the bridge.” He stood and walked to stand behind Bishop. “Is it a ship?”
Eleanor adjusted the sensors, shifting them away from section 12B. “It’s in motion, whatever it is. Should be able to break through the interference in just a moment…there we go.”
Ford replied, “On speakers.”
“This..zzzt…Greyson calling USS Buran. I…brrzt…need your assist…zzt. Medical emerge…ssss…friend and I need…bzzt…help.”
Bishop’s hands worked the console. “It repeats. I can’t get any better signal. Ensigns Jeremy and Stone, lock the sensors onto the transmission signal.” The two science officers went to work while she continued to tease out what she could. “Whatever it is, it’s picking up speed. I estimate it’ll be across the border in three minutes.”
Milton mused, “Our border or theirs?” The Tholian border had a habit of shifting at the whim of the Tholians. In the last few years, it had remained stable.
Bishop shook her head passionately, “Theirs. Not about to risk a diplomatic incident with the Tholians, sir.”
Milton let out a dry chuckle. “As well you should, Bishop, as well you should.”
The door to the bridge slid open, and Captain Helena Dread stepped out of the turbolift. “Report?” Ford walked through what they knew so far and instructed Bishop to play the distress call. Dread’s face went pale, and her eyes widened at the sound of the voice.
Milton asked, “Captain?”
Helena recovered as the color returned to her face. “I know that voice. Dr. Abraham Greyson. Last time I saw him was,” she thought for a moment before snapping her fingers at remembering, “December 2401. What is he doing all the way out here?”
Eleanor shook loose from the shock that her captain knew the voice so well. “His ship will be across the border in thirty seconds. I would recommend giving his ship ample time to get far into our space before we do anything outside of waiting.” She glanced at her CO, who replied with a quiet nod of understanding.
Nobody wanted to give the Tholians a reason to cross the border.
