“Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with that there is”

Ernest Hemmingway. (1952)

 

If you want to catch a fish, you really have to use a net.

Of course, the purist would argue that the only way to catch a fish, the real way to catch a fish is by fly – fishing. The angler motionless in the flow of the river, alive and alert to the current and eddies as they play the long game and stalk their prey beneath the turbulent waters, both hunter and prey locked in a deadly game of wits decided by a flick of the wrist and guile.

Which is fine, if you have all day to waste standing ass – deep in a river, betting on the uncertain prospect of coming home empty handed at its close with nothing to show for your efforts.

A luxury that Captain Samantha Hyland could ill – afford.

Man is a creature of land and air and has no godly reason to intrude on the realm of Poseidon, who shelters his creatures beneath the unknowable mantle of its confounding depths, so that they may enjoy his protection.

Yet fishing has long been a survival – staple of non – agrarian society’s throughout the galaxy and countless sentient species have evolved, over their existence, more and more subtle ways with which to level the playing field and delve beneath the surface of the waters to wrest their prize and proudly display their catch for the world to see and witness their mastery of nature.

When your very survival depended on the catch of the day, then the development of more efficient ways to get the job done naturally followed. Teach a man to fish and he can feed himself, but if you have a whole village with hungry mouths to feed, then you’d better ditch the rod and enter into the big – time and get yourselves a net because the day is short and fish are not as stupid as you may think.

The history & evolution of fishing nets is a testament to sentient innovation, showcasing how a simple tool had transformed over millennia to meet the needs of societies around the galaxy. From ancient handmade nets to modern synthetic designs, fishing nets have played a crucial role in the survival and development of human and alien civilization.

Mostly similar in form and function the fishing net evolved roughly along the same lines wherever a fluid ocean harbored some form of life that could be translated into calorific exchange by the simple expedient of remove it from where you thought it might be and turning it into dinner by the simple expedient of a sharp blow to its head and exposure to a heat medium, along with some local flora and a nice glass of wine.

Fishing nets were usually meshes formed by knotting a relatively thin thread, and early nets were woven from grasses, vines, flaxes and other fiber crop material, while later woven cotton was used. Modern nets tend to be usually made of artificial polyamides like nylon, although nets of organic polyamides such as wool or silk thread were common in some cultures.

Dragnets, cast – nets, beach – seine’s, drift – nets, gillnets, keepnets, lave – nets, tangle – nets and trammels.

They all had one thing in common, you cast your net upon the water, bided your time and then wind and tide willing, the water would offer up whatever bounty they encompassed and it might even be what you were looking for in the first place.

It might also turn up just about anything else.

Which is why Captain Samantha Hyland had originally been skeptical when her Tactical Officer, Thath Jarthell had suggested that the cast such a net to find and locate their Displaced shipmates, Captain Arthur Hansen and Lieutenant Commander Six of Eleven.

But the Galaxy represents one hell of an ocean and to find a quarry as infinitesimally small and significant as one Human-being and one former Borg – drone in the exponentially shifting volume of its depths was a near – impossible task, on a galactic – scale.

They were going to need one heck of a big – net.

Ensign Macey Lewis looked over to where her irascible colleague was happily working away on the problem from the domain of the Tactical – station (if the foul-tempered Tellarite could ever said to be actually ‘happy’ in anything or sense of the word) and wondered, not for the first time, of the hidden depths that may lay beneath Thath’s own turbulent surface.

“Never had you pegged for a fisherman.” The helmsman commented dryly as she guided the Duderstadt along its search vector with a calm and studied hand.

Lieutenant Jarthell did not design to look over his shoulder as he worked, but commented acerbically.

“Despite my best efforts to prove otherwise, it would seem that the universe still has the capacity to surprise, little – bird.”

Macey ignored the barb she knew was coming and teased the grumpy Tellarite with a flashing grin.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d have the patience for it, is all.”

Jarthell shrugged, non-committal, as his piggish – features scanned the probe telemetry readouts that scrolled past giving his compact features an unhealthy greenish hue.

“It was my father’s passion really, not mine.” The Tellarite reasoned in a rare moment of introspection that made Macey pause and actually turn her head away from her own board to regard Thath.

“I care little for fish and even less for the actual act of fishing.” Thath grumbled. “Long hours spent cramped in the gunnels of a tiny ketch bobbing on a methane – sea is far from my idea of a good time, in fact its about as close to misery as any sentient being can get, short of being forced to listen to Klingon – opera ….”

Lewis grinned; here was the miserable, dour – minded sonnofabitch that she knew and loved so well.

“But it did afford me vanishingly rare time to spend time with my father.” Jarthell continued, almost wistfully. “A busy man, his work kept him away from the home more often that not and we never had the opportunity to develop a particularly close relationship. Fishing was a way to spend time in his orbit, there was no where else to go really, and he would talk and I would mostly listen and I suppose some of his wisdom must have sort of seeped in and found root there.”

There was a silence between them and Macey felt unexpectedly moved by this uncharacteristic introspection. Thath Jarthell wasn’t exactly what she would call a friend; in fact, the man seemed to positively delight at alienating himself from polite company and treated it as a pastime. Yet beneath that gruff exterior (possibly several fathoms deep), Thath Jarthell appeared to be just as ‘human’ as anybody else.

“Still, to this day I positively, bloody despise fish.” Thath frowned and, just like that, that was that.

Macey smiled and shook her head, if ever there was a more ornery, difficult person in this universe or any other you’d care to mention, she reckoned she had yet to meet them.

But the net that Lieutenant Jarthell had devised was nothing short of brilliant, the pilot reckoned.

The task that lay before the captain and crew of the USS Vigilant was challenging in the extreme. Thrust into an alternate universe that they knew next to nothing about and forced to seek their Displaced in a period of time where they had no idea if history had taken even a passingly similar path of that in their home dimension, they were tasked with finding two vanishingly – small needles in a haystack the size of the Milky Way.

The Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant – commander T’Shon had provided the insight that lead to the breakthrough realization that they could confirm the presence and triangulate the presence of their former CO and Chief Engineer by extrapolating their residual Quantum – signature against that of the Quantum – entangled molecule that sat at the heart of the Quantum Beacon that Starbase – 80 had installed aboard the Duderstadt – class fast cruiser to light its way home to the Prime Universe.

Yet theory and practice are two very different things.

True, the Vigilant possessed one of the most sophisticated and contemporary long – range sensor suites that the UFP Starfleet possessed. In its current configuration as a deep-space reconnaissance vessel, the ship was uniquely suited to scour great volumes of the cosmos to identify species and threats from afar.

Yet it could only look in so many directions at once and the extent of its gaze was not limitless.

It is a misnomer that a Starfleet Tactical Officers main strengths come from their ability to harness and discharge the impressive weapons and defensive systems aboard their technologically advanced ships.

As key and focal to their role as this skillset was, an able Starfleet cadet would be able to tell you, if asked, that the real skill of the men and women who sat before the Tactical Station came from the ability to employ the powerful targeting sensors that informed the Captain of what they were about to shoot at and if going ‘weapons – hot’ was actually a good idea or not.

Lieutenant Thath Jarthell was a master of this art, which is why, despite having a personality that could strip the paint from walls, he had landed an assignment on this fleet and modern vessel.

With the assistance of T’Shon and a handful of Operations payload specialist that Lieutenant Ojha had loaned from the Magazine, Thath had spent the hours since their arrival in the Terra – Prime Universe overseeing the replication of a large number of Class – 9 long range probes.

These probes had been programmed with the targeting protocols to identify the tell – tale Quantum – resonance that the Displaced Prime Universe crewmembers were posited to emanate and then were launched over a series of long hours, travelling to the furthest extent of their mission – envelope endurance, forming a concentric sphere around the USS Vigilant.

When they reached the outer limits of that transmit – barrier, yet another salvo of probes was launched, extending past the first and continuing until they too reached the extent of their capabilities., creating another concentric shell around the first. On and on this went, concentric shell after shell expanding their reach until the Vigilant was as the pupil at the centre of an all – seeing eye that effectively spanned light – years.

In this way, the Duderstadt was able to increase and extend the effective range of its already – impressive long – range sensory capability, boosted by this impressive, distributed probe – net.

Of course, as with all forms of net – fishing, the process turned up any number of false – positives, anomalies and negative – returns, which is only to be expected when you are attempting to trawl an ‘ocean’ that is roughly 100,000 to 120,000 light-years in all directions, with its stellar disk about 87,000 light-years across, but it certainly did speed the process up in relativistic – terms.

Still the search was arduous and as the hours turned into days and they days gathered together and threatened to turn into weeks, Captain Samantha Hyland had to admit to private despair that they would ever fulfil their mission objectives and find their missing people.

The fact that the USS Vigilant, literally one of the fastest vessels in the fleet back in their own version of Space/Time, was effectively hobbled to perform at half of its impressive warp – factor, so that it appeared to be no more advanced than its 22^nd century contemporaries, in an attempt not to draw the unwelcome attentions of the Interdimensional predators of The Loom, did nothing to improve her mood.

So, when Lieutenant Jarthell broke the monotony of yet another duty rotation spent with no sign of their quarry with a tentative “Well, this is interesting?”, Sam shook off the listlessness and fatigue that were clouding her thoughts and was instantly intrigued.

“What have you got, TAC?” The CO sat a little straighter in the ‘big-chair.’

Though they were far too professional to show it, from the subtle shift in their collective body – language, Sam could tell that the rest of the bridge crew were similarly interested in what the Tellarite had to say.

Thath looked thoughtful as he scrutinized the data-feed and parsed what the instrumentation as telling him, with a critical gaze.

“Picking something up from the Net in Grid Two – Alpha – Three.” The Tactical Officer murmured softly, almost to himself. Over the last few days there had been so many erroneous readings that had raised hopes, only to dash them with disappointment, that Jarthell was operating from a surfeit of scrutiny and caution.

“Potential contact. Could be a possible match, certainly the right Quantum – harmonic profile, although from this distance it’s too far out to be absolutely certain.” The Tellarite admitted rhetorically.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. The search had been taking far too long. Every moment they tarried in this dimension they risk an inadvertent contact with its inhabitants that threatened to destabilize the current timeline even further. Not only would such a technological disparity be impactful from a First – Contact perspective (their 25^th century ship being vastly more powerful than anything else encountered in the 22^nd century), but was sure to alert The Loom to their presence and draw an enemy with which they had no means to combat.

“Range to target?” Commander Rozu enquired, the green – skinned First Officer was sat at the Captain’s right – hand and he re – routed a copy of the feed from the Tactical station to his own console, to get a better picture about what the probe – net was telling them.

“27 Lightyears from our current position.” Lieutenant Jarthell confirmed, sounding surer of himself now. “Range and bearing suggest that it is a spaceborne construct, most probably a starship.”

T’Shon, the Vigilant’s Vulcan Chief Science Officer, fed the probes scan – telemetry through her own console and linked the feed with the vessels higher – acuity scientific sensor pallets, boosting and enhancing the quality of the data being returned from the long – distant arm of the probe net and finessing this with the powerful main deflector array.

“It would seem that the Lieutenant’s initial assessment is correct, Captain.” The Lieutenant – Commander agreed with a somber nod of her dark – haired head. “The sensor return confirms a Hysteresis – correlation with the Quantum Beacon of 67.3 %. A strong indicator of the presence of a Displaced person or object consistent to that target location.”

Samantha nodded. It was by far the most promising lead they had had to date and she did not mean to waste the opportunity to find out the truth behind this reading, but at the same time she was acutely aware that she was sailing straight into a metaphorical minefield of temporal paradox.

And dark, tentacled – predators swam just beneath its glassy surface.

“Good work TAC.” The CO thanked Jarthell. “Can you tell is anything about the target vessel from this distance?”

The Tactical Officer grunted and grumbled, “I’m a Tactical Officer, not a bloody Soothsayer!” But then caught the flash in the eye of the CO and added truculently. “It’s residual warp – signature suggests a Warp – 5 capable vessel, if I had to stake a claim upon it – I’d say that it’s a Starfleet vessel, judging by the field enclosure limits.”

“Another Starfleet vessel, out here?” Commander Rozu frowned, but Samantha shook her head.

“I’d say that the Lieutenant means a United – Earth Starfleet vessel, Commander.” Sam corrected her First Officer.

“In the earlier parts of the 22^nd Century, the United Federation of Planets as we know it had not yet been formed. The standard Terran polity was an organization called the United Earth Assembly. What we have her is probably a UAE Starfleet vessel, most likely a NX – Class cruiser, as they were the only vessels to be Warp – 5 capable during this time of history.”

Realization dawned on the face of the handsome Orion and Rozu nodded.

“Well, that does make a little more sense, although what does require further explanation is what Captain Hansen and Lieutenant – Commander Petrovna would be doing aboard such a vessel and what its occupants might know about who they really are and where they are really from?”

Sam nodded. In this, the Executive Officer had the right of things.

“That’s something I’m dying to find out too, Commander.” Captain Hyland agreed with conviction and she turned to address the CONN.

“Helm. Plot in a course for the target vessel. Warp – 5.”

Ensign Lewis’ slim brown fingers flowed artlessly over her console, laying in the course correction and coordinates that would turn the svelte, shark – bellied cruiser and wing their way to the position of the anomalous sensor contact.

“Captain! I’m picking up an automated distress beacon on the longwave subspace EM – band!” Reported Lieutenant Rani Ojha, from her vantage point behind the ships Operations – console.

“Identify.” Sam commanded calmly.

Osha, a stern-faced young woman of Pakistan – descent, cocked her coffee – skinned head to one side in an unconscious gesture ,as her eyes narrowed and she sought to decipher the message.

“It’s faint and intermittent, but it appears to be being broadcast from the same position as the target vessel, Captain. The transmission sequencing is familiar, it’s a Starfleet code – algorithm, or rather the basic building – blocks upon which our modern packet-encryption is now based. Definite history book territory here, Ma’am.”

Samantha frowned, a sinking feeling settling in alongside her recent sensation of hope and curdling in her stomach.

“Put it up on audio.” She commanded

“Aye Ma’am.” The efficient Ops Chief responded and routed the broadcast to the speakers that fed the bridge, soon a garbled transmission sprang to life and contended for their attention.

=^= “……lost main power to the warp core and are drifting…….nearby gravity well……of crew incapacitated…….unknown entity…..I repeat this is Captain Roy Dunsel of…. United….Starship NX-03  … “SS Challenger”….requesting urgent assistance, we….” =^=

The rest was lost in a wave of hissing static and howling feedback.

“OPS! Reacquire that feed!” Sam frowned massively and spun in her chair.

“Attempting to compensate, Captain. There’s heavy interference along the subspace band!” Lieutenant Osha tried to finesse the incoming transmission and restore what she could.

Lieutenant – Commander T’Shon, unflappable as ever, interrogated her own systems and turn to address the CO.

“The source of the signal disturbance is most – likely the result of changes to Ionospheric Density modifying the transmission pathway of the EM Subspace carrier wave, interfering with the signal at the source.” The Vulcan reasoned. “Coupled with what we could hear from its Captain, it would appear that the SS Challenger is without main – power and is caught within the gravity well of a main – sequence star.”

“That’s not good!” Commander Rozu agreed. “What kind of shields does she have? How long can she survive that kind of proximity?”

The Vulcan looked flatly at the Orion and canted a quizzical eyebrow in response.

“If things are analogous to those of our own universe, Commander, then it is logical to deduce that they do not have very long.” T’Shon allowed. “Ships of this era do not have the advantages of advanced deflector technology, instead they only possess Polarized – hull plating, in effect creating an electromagnetic field that is far inferior to and unable to resist proximity to a stellar mass such a sun.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely not good.” The Commander agreed ruefully.

“We’ll never reach them in time, travelling at Warp – 5!” Samantha realized with grim realization.

They had come all of this way and searched for so far and long, only to be faced with the process of watching their crewmates be reduced to a cinder aboard an antiquated starship.

If they were to stand any chance of saving Captain Hansen and Six of Eleven, then it was time to roll a hard – six and throw caution to the wind, once again.

‘Helm!” Captain Samantha Hyland commanded with urgent resolve. “Plot an intercept course for the SS –  Challenger. Maximum Emergency Warp!”

“Captain. May I remind you that such an action will surely attract the attention of The Loom?” The Chief Science Officer warned.

Sam winced and snapped tersely.

“I’m well aware of that Commander, but if we don’t act swiftly then we will have come all of this way only to rescue a handful of ashes!”

T’Shon inclined her head thoughtfully and then conceded. “The Captain makes a logical point.”

“So very glad you agree, now let’s not waste any more time and go get our people?” Samantha replied sarcastically through gritted teeth and ordered with finality, fixing Macey Lewis square in her sights.

 

“Kick the tires and light the fires, Ensign. Warp 9.99 on my mark and don’t spare the horses! ENGAGE!”