The panoply of coffee cups and mugs spread across the USS Denver’s science lab gave Lieutenant Presley Atega only a moment of pause as she stepped through the doors. In the far corner, hunched over a console, was Denver’s chief science officer, Lieutenant Eseri Sh’zialit. Her antennae twitched in annoyance, and the frustrated tapping of fingers on the console would have been amusing if they weren’t signs that the Andorian was reaching the end of her patience. Atega slid into the chair by her friend, gently placing her hand on Eseri’s shoulder.
“What,” was the monotone reply.
Atega sighed quietly. “Es, you need a break. You’ve been at this for eight hours now.” To others, the Andorian was just a driven science officer, wanting to solve the case. Atega knew the rest of the story. Nothing waited for Eseri at home. An exile into obscurity was all her family offered if she didn’t succeed in Starfleet. It broke Atega’s heart.
“We have to find out what the hell is out there with the Tholians. Those signals need solving.” She bowed her head, eyes closing in exhaustion. Atega stroked her friend’s shoulder, and the muscles tensed, and then relaxed with a sigh.
“I know, Es. Communications is desperate to figure this out too,” Presley leaned into her friend, “but we’re all running on empty.” She frowned and counted the cups and mugs. “That’s over ten cups of coffee, Es. You eat anything lately?” The grumble of a reply was all Eseri could muster. “Right.” She stood, picked up a PADD, and placed an order. Atega returned to her friend and the tense shoulders. “Food is on its way.”
Captain Leopold Halsey sat in the center chair of the USS Olympic, scrolling through the various reports of the task group operating around the Tholian border. The mysteries had deepened, and the Olympic-class starship had been called closer to the front line. Across the small bridge sat his chief science officer, Lieutenant Sadie Fowler. She’d immediately begun taking the reports apart and assigning them across the Olympic to science and communications. Then she’d asked Halsey’s wife for help, and the civilian science teams enthusiastically jumped into the work. He let a small smile drift across his lips. Fowler was three years into her career with impressive results across multiple assignments.
She turned in her chair, meeting his gaze. “What if they’re intentionally trying to confuse us?” Fowler looked at her screen, seeming to think through her own question, and turned back to Halsey. “Tholians rarely engage in subterfuge,” she said.
He stood and walked to her station, leaning casually against the wall. “So if it’s not the Tholians, then who is it? There’s plenty of humans and aliens who have their own reasons to be unhappy with Starfleet, Fourth Fleet, or even our little corner of the rimward.” He ran down the options in his head, and none of them relieved his worry.
Sadie turned back to her console. “Klingons, no. It’d have to be a desperate house, and I can’t think of anyone, even the crazy ones, who’d think joining up with the Tholians was a good idea.” She ran through the next few possibilities. “Romulans, doubtful. They have plenty of internal political issues.” She spent another moment thinking before saying , “Cardassians?” She turned her chair back to Halsey.
Leopold chuckled darkly. “Insanity seems to power their more insane plots. That opens it up to The True Way? The New Maquis? Desperation does strange things to an outlaw.” He shifted on his feat, uncomfortable with any of those options. “What if it’s someone new?” Halsey watched Fowler’s face shift into contemplation, and she turned slowly in her chair, tapping slowly into her console. He returned to his center chair, waiting.
A few beeps later, she sighed. “I think it’s someone new and someone old. The signal isn’t Tholian, but it’s also not anything we know. Except this strain right here.” She brought up the communication signal on the viewscreen. “Out of all the elements of identification for this signal, there’s one that’s familiar. Out of four hundred variables. The computer ignored it since we were looking for a complete match. Thankfully, someone on the lower decks flagged it.” She stood from her chair and plodded toward the screen. “You can invent a new communication system with new signals, mechanisms, and everything else. It takes time. A long time. Encryption options have to be considered; you’ll need signal buoys to carry the connection if you decide to go long distance.” She stood within inches of the screen, her eyes searching the details on display. “Most don’t. They’ll adapt an old system and rework it. They think they’re being smart, but what they’re doing is leaving pieces of the original system in there. And that system will eventually give them away.” She turned to face Halsey and the rest of the bridge crew, who were now staring at her expectantly.
Halsey leaned forward, his eyebrows raised. “So, who is the mystery signal?”
Fowler pointed at the one segment that blinked green. “The Network. Or formerly Tougun’s Network. It’s an older Orion Syndicate indicator, which is why it caught someone’s attention downstairs.”
Halsey let out a low gasp, along with the rest of the bridge. He shook his head in shock. “The best guess we’ve got is that Selene Voss is working with a splinter group or outlying group of Tholians? That’s my least favorite option we had to choose from.” He grumbled, “To what end we don’t know, which makes this even more confusing. Why would they even consider working with her?”
Fowler shrugged. “That’s next on the list. But first, begging the Captain’s pardon, I need some sleep.” He gave her a nod, and she headed to the turbolift as a junior officer slid into her seat, picking up where she left off.
Halsey sat back, trying to make sense of the latest revelation. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Get Fleet Captain Crawford on a secure channel in my ready room.” He stood and walked to his ready room door. He never delighted in delivering bad news.
He had a feeling there was more to come in that department.
