The console outside the shuttle bay erupted in sparks, sending glass and circuits in every direction. Several more blue disruptor blasts shot down the hallway, pinging against the makeshift barriers of cargo containers erected by the crew of the Gilroy. The Starfleet officers tried to return fire. Scattered bits of orange phasers slipped through cracks or over edges, blindly hoping to take out the advancing horde of augmented humans. Heavy smoke clung to the ceiling, further dimming the already darkened hallway.

The oversized double doors to the shuttle bay clanged angrily as they began to slide open. The defending crew retreated quickly, wildly firing behind themselves in an attempt to cover their run. When the last of them crossed the threshold, the doors whirled in protest again, now beginning to close. After a moment, they were sealed inside the dark, cavernous room, illuminated just by overhead emergency lighting.

Voices erupted in panic as nearly all of the two dozen crewmembers began to shout. A tall Andorian woman, one of only three officers present – an ensign – climbed up a stack of crates to get everyone’s attention. Blood stained the bandages on her left arm and she held it, supporting it with her other arm. She pointed around the room, quickly delivering the details of her plan, and collected information from the few crew she called by name. She stopped speaking after a few moments, alarmed by the pounding on the doors they had sealed behind them.

By the time the augmented group had breached the doors and entered the bay, the Gilroy crew had scattered. One by one, the flashlights on the augments’ rifles lit up, spreading piercing white light across the room. They shouted for the Gilroy crew to show themselves – promising leniency if they surrendered – but when no one revealed themselves, they began to spread out and slowly search the area.

It took several minutes before the first crewman was found. A rifle’s flashlight illuminated the Andorian ensign behind a set of massive crates near the far edge of the shuttle bay. Her face was lit up, exposed behind a small mask with a hose apparatus connected to a device on her hip. A thick belt strap was woven around her, buckled into a catch on the floor. She stared at her would-be captors with a mix of determination and fear. The augments returned smirks as they lowered their weapons, preparing to take her in.

An ear-piercing ringing erupted from various parts of the cavernous shuttle bay, and the red emergency lights began to blink in rhythm with the alarm. The augments looked around, concern flashing on their faces, and more than one turned back towards the Andorian ensign, who was now gripping the belt tied around her with renewed intensity.

Nearby, the outer bay doors of the Gilroy began to retract. A familiar blue forcefield shimmered, confirming its protection, as the swirling lights of the nebula began to flood the shuttle bay. With no fanfare, the forcefield flickered once, twice, and three times before it faded entirely. A vortex of air began to rush past them all, desperate to meet the vacuum of space. Stacks of cargo were pulled off the ground despite their enormous weights and launched themselves toward the opening. Those augments not smashed by the debris found themselves, too, lifted off their feet and, in seconds, jettisoned outside.

The ensign counted to ten in her head, hands gripped tightly against the belt – her only anchor to the Gilroy. She looked around, breathing slowly through her emergency mask, and spotted five other officers equally tethered to the floor. Each gave her a thumbs up. She pulled herself along the strap until she reached the floor, legs still kicking behind her in zero gravity. She dug her fingers back into the exposed control panel she had been sitting over. The gears of the manual override offered just a brief resistance before clicking back into place. The blue forcefield returned, cutting the shuttle bay off from the nebula outside. The readout on her mask alerted her that oxygen levels were rising rapidly. Seconds later, a smattering of bangs rang out across the bay as each crewmember smacked back onto the ground when gravity was restored. The hiss of the door to the lone shuttle stored in the room signaled its hatch was opening. The rest of the crew spilled out.

The mess hall was completely dark except for the light of the nebula that spilled in through the tinted windows. Broken glass littered the floor and the air had turned almost putrid in smell from the mingling of far too many drinks.

The doors that led to the rest of the ship chirped in refusal. They had been locked from the inside and would not budge. Clangs and bangs from the other side suggested that whoever wanted in was opening panels and digging around circuits. The noise continued for some time. Eventually, an industrial hiss signaled that an emergency release had been found and the doors slid apart by two inches. Four sets of hands appeared in the opening and, with little effort, pried the heavy doors apart.

A series of rapid blue bursts of disruptors flooded in from the hallway. Several of the few remaining intact bottles exploded from impact, leaving several pieces of wall marred with holes rimmed with fire. After a second spread of blue weapon fire, a half dozen augments stepped slowly into the mess. With the exception of the crunch of glass under their boots, the mess hall was completely quiet. A stillness covered the room like a thick layer of dust. It felt to some like no one had been in this room for days. One of them complained of life signs as the flashlights of rifles moved rapidly around the room in search of anything concerning.

Dressed in their foreign leathers, the augments continued inside. One of them bent down, grabbed a relatively intact bottle, and put it to his lips. He cursed in disappointment and tossed it back to the ground. After the glass shattered, the room again returned to its eerie quiet. The beams of light from the flashlights fell to the floor, the augments lowering their weapons in frustration.

The signal given, a horde of Gilroy crew revealed themselves. Popping up from behind booths and under the bar, they each took aim and fired. Countless orange beams leapt from the crew and struck the augments. They stood far longer than any regular human ever could have managed, but the sheer number of phaser shots eventually brought each one of them down. A rallying cheer erupted in the room.

A pack of augmented humans, clad in brown leathers, made their way casually down the hall. Two of them had their rifles raised to some degree, though the rest had either let their weapons fall to their sides or had stored them entirely. They had met little resistance so far and, disappointingly to them, the native crew they had met had put up very little fight. There was little challenge in fighting non-augments.

The forward man called for the group to stop. He had spotted an open set of doors from which poured light – something that should be impossible given the state of emergency power. Quickly, each augment retrieved their weapon and hugged the interior wall. They marched in a practiced rhythm up to the door. After a single nod, they spilled inside. Two tumbled across the doorway to arrive on the other side as the other four rushed through immediately. They scanned every inch of wall of the room which appeared spacious and fully powered. None of them recognized the room’s purpose, though they all noticed the large pool of water set in the back of the room and surrounded by safety rails.

One augment moved to one of the powered stations and read “Cetacean Ops” out loud to the rest of their team. A lockout of the ship systems prevented them from learning much else, other than that the room was apparently powered from a separate battery. Cautiously, the augments regrouped together and moved slowly towards the pool. Upon arrival they each aimed their rifles down at the still water, though they saw nothing. Unlike the rest of the room, the pool was unlit, and the rifles’ flashlights did little to illuminate anything but the surface.

One augment squatted down and ran his hand through the water. It was cool but otherwise unremarkable. The group bickered amongst each other about the purpose of the room – even daring one another to jump into the water – but quickly grew bored and began to step away. They made for the computer consoles and never noticed the three humanoid Gilroy crew who pulled themselves up out of the water. They took careful, calculated aim before unleashing their phasers. It took more shots than expected to down the augments, and one officer fell backwards into the pool, shot. Then another. The third crewmember, now outnumbered, fell back and leapt purposely back into the water.

The three augments still standing rushed the pool, blue disruptor fire blasting wildly into the water. In a flash, an enormous, gray-colored figure jumped from the water. It was more than 10 feet long and flailed powerfully as it shifted its body midair. A ton of sleek, muscular mass slammed into them with a crunch, waves of water splashing from the pool onto the floor and out the still open hallway doors. The safety rails retracted into the floor and, seconds later, the floor itself seemed to lift up on one side, tipping the cetacean crewmember and the three crushed Augments into the pool.