Diplomatic Offices
Lieutenant Commander Sofia Macias had expected her first week aboard Deep Space 12 to involve trade negotiations. Perhaps a territorial disagreement over shipping priorities. Maybe an argument about customs inspections.
Those were familiar problems. They had procedures. A missing civilian transport did not.
She stood in the Diplomatic Office overlooking the Galleria, the large window framed the steady movement of merchants, Starfleet personnel, and travelers. To anyone passing through the station, it still looked like another busy morning.
Only the questions had changed.
The chime at her office door sounded. “Come.”
The doors slid open.
Ambassador Tal’Vok Rempeck entered with the composure that seemed permanently attached to every Romulan uniform he’d ever worn. His expression remained courteous, his posture impeccable.
“Lieutenant Commander.”
“Ambassador.”
He accepted the offered chair but remained standing for another moment, studying the office before finally sitting. “I understand your command staff is investigating a civilian transport.”
Sofia smiled politely. “I imagine you’ve heard as much as I have.”
Rempeck returned the smile. “Commander… rumors are rarely accurate.”
“They’re also rarely spontaneous.”
His eyebrow rose almost Vulcan like. “The Meridian Dawn carried two Romulan citizens,” he said. “Both are members of a trade commission.”
Sofia opened the passenger manifest already displayed on her padd. “I see.”
“My government would appreciate timely updates.”
“You’ll receive the same verified information provided to every Federation member.”
Rempeck looked at her for a second or two. “You are careful.”
“I was hired for that.” She replied.
A faint smile crossed his mouth. “So I see.”
Before either could continue, another chime echoed through the office. Sofia barely had time to answer before the doors parted. Ambassador Rorg strode inside without waiting for permission.
The Klingon filled the doorway before he spoke. “I hear a ship has vanished.”
Rempeck looked mildly irritated.
Sofia, somehow, felt relieved. “Ambassador.”
Rorg crossed the office in three heavy steps before stopping beside the windows overlooking the Galleria. “I dislike rumors.”
“So do I.”
“Good.” He folded his arms. “Then let us discuss facts.”
Rempeck spoke first. “The facts are currently incomplete.”
“They usually are.” Rorg looked toward Sofia. “What do you require?”
The question caught her slightly off guard. She had expected demands. Perhaps accusations. No assistance.
“We’re still investigating.”
Rorg nodded once. “My House maintains freight traffic through the Algox Corridor.”
Sofia blinked. “You do?”
“We have for years.” He shrugged as though discussing the weather. “Trade wins more wars than bat’leths.”
Rempeck glanced sideways. “I suspect there are Klingons who would object to hearing you say that.”
“There are.”
Sofia couldn’t help smiling. Rorg noticed. “Do not look so surprised, Commander.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“My captains know the corridor.” He tapped one thick finger against the passenger manifest displayed on her desk. “If they saw anything unusual..”
“…they’ll tell us.” Sofia interrupted.
“They’ll tell me.” He corrected her. “I will decide what Starfleet needs.”
Rempeck inclined his head. “A reasonable arrangement.”
Sofia looked between them. One Romulan. One Klingon. Former enemies. Both offering assistance before making demands. Deep Space 12 continued surprising her.
Her combadge chirped. “Captain Chen to Lieutenant Commander Macias.”
She tapped it immediately. “Macias here Captain.”
“How are our ambassadors?” Sofia looked from one to the other. Both waited patiently. A remarkable sight in itself. She allowed herself the smallest smile.
“Better than the rumors, Captain.”
Chen’s voice carried the faintest hint of amusement. “I’ll take every victory I can get.”
The channel closed. Rorg turned toward the windows once more, watching civilian transports maneuver slowly around the station. “Find your answers quickly, Starfleet.” His voice had lost its earlier humor. “Fear spreads faster than truth.”
For the first time that morning… Sofia realized diplomacy wasn’t about treaties. Sometimes, it was simply about buying the truth enough time to arrive.
Science Department
By mid-afternoon the laboratory no longer resembled a research facility. It resembled a siege. Padds littered every available surface. Half-empty coffee mugs occupied consoles that had once belonged to sensor reports. Somehow, Emily had abandoned a breakfast pastry sometime before noon. It now qualifies as a science experiment.
Commander Rourke looked over the room and sighed. “I left for one faculty meeting…”
Emily never looked up from her console. “You’ve been here all day.”
“I know.”
“So have we.”
“Exactly.”
Sara glanced over the top of a padd. “I think that was supposed to be a joke, dear.”
“It was.”
“It needs work.”
Rourke accepted the criticism with surprising dignity. “I was never particularly good at humor.”
Emily smiled. “We noticed.”
The laboratory doors slid open. Crewman Davis entered carrying a service tray balanced carefully between both hands. “I’ve got your lunch, Commander.”
Rourke looked genuinely confused. “…Lunch?”
“It’s 1320.”
He blinked. “…Already?”
Davis nodded. “Commander Chen thought someone should make sure Science remembered food still exists.”
Emily quietly pointed toward Rourke. “He forgot breakfast.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I intended to eat breakfast.”
Sara looked up. “Intentions don’t contain calories.”
Davis set the tray down before anyone could continue. Three sandwiches. Three mugs. Fresh coffee. Actual fruit.
He looked around the laboratory. “…Should I come back with more?”
Emily frowned. “Why?”
The crewman hesitated. “There are six empty mugs.”
All three scientists looked around the room. None of them had noticed. Sara finally spoke. “…That seems excessive.”
Emily picked up one of the abandoned mugs. “…This one’s yours.”
“No…”
She paused.
“It is mine.” Rourke quietly reached for the coffee.
“I’ve reached the point where I no longer trust any of us to evaluate our own condition.”
Emily accepted a sandwich. Sara didn’t. Rourke noticed.
“So…”
She kept reading. “…No.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“It didn’t need to be.” He folded his arms.
“You’ve been here for four hours.”
“I’m fine.”
Emily looked over. “She’s lying.”
Sara looked offended. “I am concentrating.”
Emily reached across the table, took Sara’s untouched sandwich, unwrapped it halfway, and placed it directly on top of the padd she was reading.
Sara stared at it. “…Emily.”
“No data until lunch.”
“I was reading.”
“You’ll remember it after eating.”
Sara looked toward Rourke. “Are you going to help?”
He considered the question carefully. “No.”
She sighed dramatically. “I’ve been betrayed.”
“You’ve been fed.” Reluctantly, Sara picked up the sandwich. Emily returned to her console, completely satisfied. Neither of them noticed that Emily had absentmindedly picked up the nearest coffee mug, taken a sip, and continued scrolling through sensor logs.
Rourke watched and said nothing.
Emily frowned at the coffee. “…This isn’t mine.”
Sara looked over. “No.”
Emily turned the mug slightly. “Oh.”
Sara blinked. “…You’ve been drinking my coffee.”
“I have.” Another pause. “I didn’t even notice.”
“Neither did I.”
Rourke slowly pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a question. How many hours have the two of you been working together today?”
Emily shrugged. “Most of them.”
“And at what point did you stop knowing which coffee belonged to whom?”
The realization arrived simultaneously. Emily’s cheeks reddened. Sara suddenly found her sandwich fascinating.
Rourke waited. Finally…”…Should I requisition a second mug?”
Emily laughed first. Sara buried her face in one hand. “Oh, hell…”
“I’m asking because Science has a limited beverage budget.”
Emily looked at Sara. Sara looked back. Then both started laughing. Not because the joke was particularly clever. Because they desperately needed to. The laughter faded almost as quickly as it had begun.
The Meridian Dawn was still missing. But for one minute…
The laboratory settled back into its familiar rhythm. The station’s sensor archives streamed through the main computer faster than anyone could meaningfully read them. Millions of data points collapsed into patterns, were discarded, then replaced by millions more.
Emily leaned over her console, replaying the final twelve seconds of the Meridian Dawn‘s recorded flight for what had to be the fiftieth time.
She no longer watched the ship. She watched everything around it. “Computer,” she said quietly. “Isolate all non-propulsion energy signatures within two thousand kilometers of the Meridian Dawn during the final sixty seconds of recorded telemetry.”
The computer acknowledged. “Working.”
Sara looked up from the departure records. “Trying something different?”
Emily nodded. “We’ve been staring at the ship all day.”
“And?”
“What if the ship isn’t the interesting part?”
Rourke looked over. “Good.”
Emily continued. “Subtract normal stellar radiation.” The stars vanished.
“Subtract civilian traffic.” Every nearby transport disappeared from the projection.
“Subtract station emissions.” Deep Space 12 faded into darkness.
The room dimmed. Only a handful of faint contacts remained suspended in the holographic display.
Emily frowned. “…There.”
A tiny distortion shimmered into existence. Barely visible. Not ahead of the Meridian Dawn. Not behind it. Beside it.
Sara stepped closer. “I’ve never seen that before.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Emily magnified the contact.
Instead of resolving into a recognizable energy source, the signature seemed to ripple through itself. Rourke walked slowly around the projection.
“Freeze it.”
The image stopped. He circled it once without speaking. Then again.
Emily waited. “So?”
Rourke didn’t answer immediately. He reached into the projection, it filled nearly half the laboratory. The repeating bands became unmistakable. Regular. Evenly spaced.
Sara folded her arms. “That’s not engine exhaust.”
“No.”
“Sensor reflection?”
“No.”
Emily looked between them. “Then what am I looking at?”
Rourke remained silent for another long moment. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t think this is energy.”
Sara frowned. “It has to be.”
“It has an energy reading.”
“Everything has an energy reading.”
He pointed toward the repeating bands. “But this…” He enlarged one of the ripples until individual telemetry points became visible. “…behaves like a boundary.”
Emily stared. “A boundary?” Emily quickly pulled another image. “I’m comparing it against every known propulsion signature.”
The computer processed for several seconds. No Match Found.
She tried again. “Compare against gravimetric distortions.”
No Match Found.
“Subspace fractures.”
No Match Found.
“Quantum filament interactions.”
No Match Found.
Sara looked up. “You’re just making things up now.”
“I wish.”
Rourke stepped closer to Emily’s console. “Run one more.”
She looked at him. “What?”
He hesitated. “Unknown phenomena.”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “That’s… a category?”
He shrugged.
Emily almost laughed. Almost. The search ran. The laboratory remained perfectly still. After several seconds, the computer chimed.
One Partial Correlation Located.
Emily looked at the screen. “…Partial?”
“Display.”
A second sensor record appeared beside the Meridian Dawn‘s signature.
Rourke leaned forward. “Where did that come from?”
Emily opened the record . “This can’t be right.”
Sara looked over her shoulder. “What?”
Emily swallowed. “The archive says this sensor record is…”
She looked back at Rourke. “…one hundred and eighteen years old.”
Rourke slowly replied. “Source?”
Emily read from the display. “‘Unidentified spatial disturbance. Classified as unexplained. No confirmed cause.”
Sara frowned. “Where?”
Emily’s eyes moved farther down the report. “…It doesn’t say.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t say?”
“The location field is missing.”
Rourke stared at the century-old report. He looked back at the impossible signature hanging above the Meridian Dawn‘s final recorded position. Very quietly, almost to himself, he said, “We’re asking the wrong question.”
Emily looked at him. “What should we be asking?”
Rourke never took his eyes off the projection. “Not what happened to the Meridian Dawn…” He paused. “…but what was already waiting out there.”
Operations
The Operations Center looked different from the upper observation balcony. From Operations, Liora saw reports, priorities, and department heads.
From above, she saw people. Officers leaned over consoles guiding civilian traffic through the docking lanes. Engineers crossed the upper galleries carrying equipment cases. Security officers rotated between checkpoints with practiced efficiency. Somewhere below, a junior operations ensign laughed at something a colleague had said before immediately returning to work.
She rested both hands on the railing overlooking the Operations pit. Beyond the broad viewport, Deep Space 12 floated against the blackness of the Algox System while civilian traffic drifted steadily toward and away from its docking arms.
The doors behind her opened without announcing themselves. She didn’t turn.
“You’ve been looking out that window for ten minutes.” Mathias Shaw stepped beside her, resting his forearms against the railing. “I timed it.”
“I assumed you would.” She sighed. “I keep thinking they’ll call,” Chen said.
Mathias looked toward the stars beyond the station. “So do I.”
“They’re just…” She searched for the words. “…gone.”
He nodded. “I know.”
She finally looked at him. “I don’t know what to tell the families.”
“The truth.”
“We don’t have one yet.”
“Then tell them that.”
She looked away again. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“No.” He answered without hesitation. “It doesn’t.”
Chen let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I keep replaying the departure report.”
“You think you missed something.”
“I think someone did.”
Mathias studied her for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he reached over and gently took the padd from her hands. She frowned.
“I was reading that.”
“You’ve memorized it.”
“…Probably.”
He set the padd on the nearby console. Then opened one arm. Nothing more. No words. No
invitation. She hesitated for perhaps thirty seconds, she rested her forehead against his shoulder.
“I think that’s all I needed.”
“I know.” She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve. “I should probably look like the captain again.”
“I was wondering where she went.”
She gave him a look. “You get one joke today.”
“I’ve already used it.”
Her combadge chirped. “Captain Chen.”
She tapped it. “Go ahead.”
“Sofia Macias, ma’am.”
Chen’s expression settled immediately back into command. “The Romulan Trade Commission has formally requested observer status in the investigation.”
Chen glanced briefly toward Mathias. “I’ll meet you in Diplomatic Affairs in five minutes.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The channel closed. She looked once toward Mathias. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “That’s what partners are for.”
She looked at him for a second longer before turning toward the doors. The captain returned to duty. Mathias remained at the railing a moment longer, watching another civilian transport disappear into the darkness beyond the station.
