The wreckage of the Vigilant and the profile of the USS Tiro still dominated the viewscreen on the bridge. Illuminated by the swirling reds and purples of the nebula, it was a near picturesque scene.
Captain Sands exited the turbolift first, walking quickly to his chair at the bridge’s center. His smiling visage, something the crew treated as a near constant, had slipped, and a long, exhausted sigh escaped from him.
“Report, please,” he said, nodding to the third chair reserved for guests as an invitation to the Tiro’s captain, Baro. The Bajoran man took the seat, eyes fixed on the silhouette of his own ship.
To his surprise, a tactical crosshair appeared on the viewscreen near a particularly large piece of wreckage from the Vigilant. A vibrant, artificial blue, it blinked several times over an object too small for either captain to make out. After a few seconds, the screen zoomed in, revealing an object seemingly moving around and studying the debris.
“What exactly am I looking at?” asked Captain Baro.
“We’re not sure,” replied the officer at the Gilroy’s tactical station. “We only detected it a minute ago. The Tiro confirms the readings but…” The officer paused.
Captain Sands turned in his seat to look at the officer, but stopped halfway as he winced in pain, a hand moving to his head wound.
Commander Mall, who had taken the first officer’s chair, placed a sympathetic hand on his captain’s shoulder and turned to address the tactical officer. “But what? Now’s not the time to hesitate.”
“Well, sirs, the readings aren’t like anything I’ve seen before. The object is only partially stable on our sensors. Almost like it’s both there and not.”
“Look—another one!” announced Captain Baro, a puzzled air in his voice that hovered close to excitement.
The viewscreen confirmed the sighting. A second object—or was it a creature?—was now orbiting nearby the first. Wires—or tentacles—reached out like an octopus in water, each sliding along pieces of debris of the Vigilant.
“They look alive—not like objects,” said Sands. “Maybe native to the nebula? Is there anything specific about the wreckage they’re searching?” He nodded his head in thanks to Mall and moved to activate the console in his chair. “And… why am I locked out of this system?”
“I’m technically still acting captain,” said Jules Ashworthy, his voice a roar of surprise. “I’ve completely forgotten!”
Sands stood from his chair, took a minute to let the dizziness pass, and turned to stare at his communications officer. “You are?”
“You ordered me off the bridge,” answered Mall before Jules could speak. “Then you were knocked out when our shields failed.” Mall paused, steeling himself to speak further as if he still didn’t believe the next line he had to say. “This left Jules the highest-ranking officer on the bridge with Walker performing the surgery to save your life and E’Spor trying to keep the ship from flying apart.”
“I’m so proud of you,” said Captain Sands, a smile finally returning to his face. “Good job standing up when you had to.” He beamed at Jules before allowing himself to sit back down, sensing an encroaching headache.
“Captain…,” started Jules slowly before he turned to face his station, hiding his face.
“I think I found something,” alerted the tactical officer, awkwardly. No doubt unsure if he should cut in. “There are two pieces of torpedo casings from the Tiro near the wreckage the… aliens are studying.”
All eyes turned back to the viewscreen, which now zoomed in again and showed the two creatures each at a piece of debris the computer identified as Starfleet in origin. At first, they seemed to only touch it, perhaps scanning it or, more oddly, tasting it. Then, in an instant, the tips of their tentacles began to glow a hot red and the pieces of torpedo casing disintegrated.
“That’s alarming,” said both Captain Sands and Baro, each turning to look the other in the eye.
“Perhaps we should leave… immediately,” continued Baro, standing and moving to his first officer. “Before whatever that was decides it likes the taste of my ship.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” added Sands, quickly. “We’ll head to the point where the Gilroy first entered the nebula. Then, when we’re both free, we’ll head towards the return coordinates at Warp 6. I don’t want to be without sensors—stealth be damned.”
“Agreed,” said Baro, offering a quick nod to Sands. “Everyone—really, thank you for the rescue.” He tapped his commbadge and ordered the Tiro to begin transporting her crew back.
Moments later, both ships’ engines began to glow hot with power as they angled towards the escape route. The alien creatures’ profiles were still highlighted on the viewscreen, both ships monitoring their behavior. At first, they seemed nonplussed about either ship’s movements, but as the distance grew between the Tiro and the wreckage of the Vigilant, the creatures began to disengage from their location and follow in the ship’s wake.
“We should ready weapons,” said Mall, voice firm. “In case they make a run towards the Tiro. I don’t want to see what they can do to our hulls after what they did to the torpedo casings.”
Sands seemed to consider his first officer’s words. He brought his hands up to his chin, allowing himself a minute to think.
“No…,” he started. “I don’t want to draw their attention in case they can sense our weapon systems coming online. Just keep an eye on them for now.”
He again moved to touch his chair’s panel and chuckled briefly. “Captain Ashworthy,” he said, cheerily. “I’d like my command back.”
It took a dozen minutes or so before the Tiro and Gilroy reached the edge of the nebula. The two creatures continued to trail behind, easily matching speed and direction.
“Captain Baro is hailing,” reported Jules, who quickly connected the two ships.
“Captain Sands—the Tiro and I are prepared to warp. Prepare to synchronize our navigational data.”
“Acknowledged, Tiro,” replied Sands, with obvious relief in his voice. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Seconds later, both ships disappeared in a flash of brilliant light.
