“Time to contact?” Michael asked, his knee slightly bobbing against the floor as he sat irritably in his chair.

“One minute thirty seconds, sir.” Pi replied calmly.

In the few-minute trip it took the Dragon to intercept the Shuttlecraft Shukar, they were left with more questions than answers. For one, why did the shuttlecraft stop? Sure, there may have been a medical episode onboard, but even then, moving TOWARDS help is better than sitting still. Even cadets know how to pilot a shuttlecraft, so even if their ‘pilot’ was down, it did not explain the full stop.

“Sir, transferring the Shukar’s manifest to you.” Brannigan reported from his station behind the captain.

Michael pulled up the list of seven passengers aboard the shuttlecraft. The first one to come up was Lieutenant Orlok Ken, a Trill Security officer stationed on K-74, who had recently joined with the Ken symbiote a year ago. Michael had actually spoken with Orlok several times over video calls before his transfer and acceptance as the Dragon’s new Chief of Security. He found himself impressed by the Lieutenant’s charm, as well as an equally impressive record of keeping the delicate peace on a fringe Klingon-border station. Now he worried he might have unintentionally pulled the lieutenant out of the pot and into the fire.

“Dropping out of warp now.” The words came from someone, but Michael wasn’t sure who, as he was snapped back into the moment. Setting the PADD back down, he stood from his seat and took center stage on the bridge. The Dragon dropped out of warp, elegantly gliding through space and descending upon a lone Danube-class runabout. The Dragon’s shields rippled all across the hull of the Inquiry-class cruiser as it positioned alongside the smaller vessel.

“Shields raised, sir.” Jessica reported. He knew why she did it, a golden age regulation about approaching ships failing to communicate that no one dared to ignore in the last 118 years.

Michael just gave her a telling nod, “Ms. V’era, please scan the Shukar, tell me if there is any reason they’re not answering our hails.”

The Science officer went to work without a word, having already anticipated the captain’s directives, but after only a few moments, she tilted her head, “Interesting. Sir, I am only detecting one life sign onboard. It registers as Trill and shows irregular vital signs.”

“Transporter Room One, Lock onto that signal, and beam it directly to sickbay. Doctor, you got Incoming.” Michael called out after tapping his comm badge. With confirmations in order, he turned back to the science station. “Where is the rest of the crew?” He inquired. “Who sent that Distress signal if Orlok was out of commission?” he continued, mentally noting that the voice on the distress signal was not Orlok’s.

“I don’t have that answer yet, captain, though I am detecting increased atmospheric pressure in the rear module and severe power fluctuations throughout the entire shuttle, which could account for why it’s dead in the water.” V’era responded.

Michael took a deep breath, adjusting his uniform. “Tractor the runabout into the Roost. Kiff, Zach, please report down there and see if you can’t get more answers out of her face-to-face. Commander Stern, you have the Conn.” He stated, crossing the bridge to the Turbo-lift. “I’ll be in Sickbay finding out what happened to our Security Chief.”

———–
Sickbay
———–

Michael stood in the CMO’s office, its 360-degree window in the center of Sickbay allowed him to observe the proceedings without getting in the way. He watched as the Trill officer lay motionless on the bio-bed. Looking at the monitors, he could see that they had him stable for now, but were still running an array of tests to try to determine the cause of the issue.

It was another 15 minutes before the Klingon Doctor hobbled back into his office, looking rather perturbed. Michael was already sitting on the couch, waiting for the doctor to settle in before asking for the rundown. “He’s technically ok for now, obviously.” Roptojmey motioned towards the Trauma room while grabbing a drink. “SPECT test indicates he suffered a moderate seizure located in the hippocampus region of his brain.”

“Any idea what could have caused it?” Michael inquired while the Doctor nursed his fresh drink.

“That’s what’s so damn aggravating. Right now, his Isoboramine levels are off the charts. You don’t see these kinds of levels in a Trill, nor the increased neurological activity, unless they have just been freshly joined, even then it normally takes up to 92 hours to taper off while the symbiote acclimates to the host body. It’s almost like someone kick-started that process in him out of the blue, put him into shock.” The CMO grunted.

“Is there something wrong with the Symbiote?” Michael raised with concern.

“Yes and no? That was the first thing I checked. Symbiotes there, no sign of exterior trauma, but it’s running a mile-a-minute right along with him, almost like they’re re-bonding? Going to be honest here, Trill keep the joining as close to the chest as Vulcans do with Pon Farr. I know enough about it medically, but I’m far from an expert on the matter.” Roptojmey replied.

“Doctor, is there a chance… he’s not OUR Orlok Ken?” Michael asked, hesitantly.

“Nah, I ran a quick quantum resonance thingy V’era told us about in briefing. Your boy came back clean; he’s ours.” The doctor comforted.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief. At least THAT wasn’t going to be a problem later. He turned to watch the now sleeping Security Officer on the medical bed. “Symbiosis Institute reached out to us; they apparently received the shuttle’s distress call and asked if everything was ok. I’d like you to reach out to them, give them an update on his condition, and see if they can’t shine any light on what might be going on.”

“Aye, that might help, but I can tell ya this, they’re probably going to want us to take him ba—” Roptojmey began to speak, but stopped mid-sentence as the emergency lights started to flash red. “—tha hell is going on now?” he cursed.

Michael was on his feet, patting his comm badge. “Angelus to the Bridge, Why are we at Red Alert?”

[Stern:  Captain, weapons fire detected inside the roost. Security teams enroute now.]

“Clear, I’m on my way.” Michael did not wait to excuse himself and ran out of Sickbay in a full-on sprint towards the nearest turbo lift.

———–
The Roost – (Aft Shuttlebay)
A Few minutes earlier.
———–

“I mean, I get it, K-stations aren’t known for top-of-the-line equipment, but come on, this thing’s a relic. Its goanna bring down the property value of our entire flight wing ensemble.” Zach mockingly complained as he and Lt. Kiff walked down the hallway to the shuttle bay.

“They’re still highly versatile craft, and their modular design can fit any mission profile with ease. I take functionality over aesthetics any day.” Kiff tried to argue.

“And that’s why you don’t have a girlfriend.” Zach scoffed. “See, ya Gatta look at Shuttlecraft like you look at a woman…”  he began as the double bay doors to the shuttlebay opened. Waiting for them was an Ardanan Petty Officer, a woman, who instantly distracted the Andorian’s ramblings.

“Commander, Sir. I’ve landed the Shukar, and cleared the shuttle bay for diagnostic as requested.” She reported, handing over a PADD to Zachary.

He took the tablet from her and glanced at it before turning his attention back to her. “Don’t tell me…Sasha, isn’t it?” He smirked, with a glint in his eye.

“Yes, Sir, Petty Officer Sasha Merion, Hanger Ops. We played Romulan-ale pong at the pre-launch party in Holodeck 3 a few months back.” She admitted, with a hint of pink in her cheeks.

Zach gave a large grin, pointing towards the shuttle sitting in the middle of the hangar, as he motioned for her to walk with them. “See that, Sasha? That right there is beautiful work. You got her parked perfectly. Do you have a lot of experience with shuttle craft?” He schmoozed as they continued to walk.

It was Kiff’s hand pressing against Zach’s chest that stopped him and drew his attention away. “What the hell?” the Bolian muttered, already pulling out his Tricorder.

The External shields to the shuttlecraft Shukar had activated, creating an oblong barrier around the craft, which Zach almost walked face-first into. The three took a few steps back in their confusion as Kiff tried to diagnose what was going on.

“I’m sorry, sir, it wasn’t like that just a minute ago…sensors didn’t detect anyone onboard.” Sasha began to say as the rear hatch of the shuttlecraft started to hiss and descend. A sort of opaque gas began flooding out of the rear of the shuttlecraft, but remained within the interior of the craft’s shields. As the three walked around to investigate, Kiff’s Tricorder began to trill a warning.

Though he was engrossed in the device in his hand, it was Zach who noticed it first. A ping of red light illuminated from within the source of the smog, unmistakably the charge of a Phaser.

“DOWN!” Zach shouted as he grabbed both Kiff and Sasha and shoved them hard out of the way, using the leverage of the push to throw himself backwards into the ground. A Beam of red phaser fire cut through the mist and past the shields where the three were just standing, striking a Cargo container on the opposite wall.

The loud klaxon alarm of Red Alert filled the shuttlebay as Zach scrambled to his feet, grabbing both the Enlisted Crewman and pulling them behind cover. As two more beams of Phaser Fire shot in their direction.

[To be Continued]