The tunnel of stars spinning on the viewscreen appeared to shatter apart when the Romulan warbird dove out of warp speed.  The swirling glow was replaced by a sensor image of the warbird’s present location.

Rising from her throne, Commander Cokitha took slow and measured steps toward the hologram.  The dim illumination on the bridge signalled that the Romulan Free State vessel under her command had remained cloaked with invisibility.  Dominating the viewscreen was the image of a sickly moon, growing larger as the warbird Vishatha entered its orbit.  Cokitha could identify only subtle contrasts between the moon’s green waters and grey land masses. She reached a hand out to the hologram, causing the image of the moon to distort over the contours of her fingers.  After listening for computerised chirps from the control panels behind her, she cocked her head to the left.

Without looking at any of her subordinates, Cokitha demanded, “Precisely where is the source of the distress beacon?”

Centurion Tahlee cleared his throat.  He shifted his weight from one boot to the other, where he stood behind a freestanding sensor console.  Tahlee kept his eyes on the down, studying the sensor feedback.

“A-hem, there is no sign of the distress beacon, nor any transmissions from the moon’s surface, commander,” Tahlee replied, in cautious and clipped tones.  “However, these are the coordinates we received in the mess–“

Cokitha rapped the heel of her boot against the deck twice.

“Continue your scans,” Cokitha ordered in a tone so condescending she wouldn’t have even attempted it on her four-year-old child.  She nodded at the viewscreen.  “The message.  Again.”

The stellar bodies on the viewscreen flashed out and were instantly replaced by a video distress call Cokitha understood to have been sent from that moon, only days or weeks earlier.  The video recording showed a Romulan woman of indeterminate age leaning against a rock formation in an underground cavern.  Framed by a frizzy nebula of dark hair, the Romulan’s heart-shaped face filled the screen, but it was her dark brown eyes that captured Cokitha’s attention.  Those eyes smouldered with a dark desire.

“To all Romulan vessels within the range of my voice, I order you to converge upon the encoded coordinates for star system DQ-358.  This is Science Minister Flavia ir-Llantrisant and I’ve led an archaeological team of five to their ruination,” said the recording of Flavia.  

She spoke emphatically, even a little breathlessly.  At times, subspace interference crackled a digital trill through her prolonged vowels.  At no point did the archaeological team of five become visible behind Flavia throughout the distress call.

Flavia declared, “We have been marooned here by the USS Sarek!  The Federation calls this moon Burleigh Minor and we’ve been stranded in a cave system beneath her skin.  The great Captain Taes judged our quest for knowledge to be immoral.  Unacceptable.  She has abandoned us, buried alive!”

Wincing slightly, Flavia’s eye-line drifted as she looked at something beyond the visual sensor-range of her communicator.  Flavia’s enunciation thus far has been reminiscent of how Cokitha had seen Flavia proselytise from the USS Sarek’s bridge, some three months earlier.  As she went on, Flavia spoke more quickly, emphasizing her words with greater urgency.

“There was a cave-in two days ago,” said the recording of Flavia.  “Three members of my landing party were injured.  I don’t know if the cave-in was caused by tectonic instability or if Starfleet continued their mining, despite our presence in the caves.  We lost our escape route to the surface and one of the deflector units that protected us from the solar radiation was destroyed.  If anyone can hear me now, it’s only because I stacked all of the adaptive amplifiers from a set of transporter pattern enhancers and spooled them into my communicator with every copper-yttrium 2153 hardline from the enhancers.”

Flavia smirked tragically.  “…Otherwise, I’m only amusing myself as my own dramaturge.“

Continuing, Flavia said, “Although this moon can nearly support life, there is no life to be found.  We have scanned the cavern system for organic sources of sustenance, but there is no substantive flora, animals or arthropods.  The only living beings to walk these cursed lands before us also came here aboard starships.“

“We find ourselves in subzero temperatures at night.  Our sensors tell us there are no vermin on this moon and yet we can hear movement in the dark, beyond our encampment.  We’ve been forced to tear apart the buried, alien starship we were excavating for study.  Its hull has proven valuable as a shelter when it grows cold.  If we heat the rocks with our disruptors, we can just about keep the interior warm enough to sleep.  Of course, the power cells in our disruptors can’t last more than a few days.“

“To survive, we pulled the bio-neural gel packs from the trans-sonic drills Starfleet abandoned when they left us here.  We boiled the bio-neural gel for hydration and protein.  It tasted like fermented lehe’jhme.”

All at once, the jagged edge of distress in Flavia’s voice went away.  The age lines at the corners of her eyes smoothed away.  She took a deep breath.  Flavia appeared calm, looking directly into her communicator’s visual sensor.  Suddenly, her expression became poised.

“Our tricorders have located a source of water precisely four kilometres away from our current encampment,” Flavia said, enunciating her words very carefully.  “That is well beyond the reach of our deflector units.  If we receive no aid, we may have to risk the solar radiation in search of the water.  If you’re hearing this, our lives depend on your very kindness.  Please.  Set course for our coordinates and rescue us with all haste.”

When the recorded distress call ended, Flavia’s composed expression flashed off the viewscreen.  An exterior view of the moon returned to the holographic display and Cokitha turned her back to it.

To her centurion, Cokitha asked, “What life signs can you detect on the surface of the moon?”

Tahlee tightened his jaw as he looked down upon his sensor interface.  He tapped at the input contacts on the panel and he tapped them again.  He looked up, looking Cokitha in the eyes.  He swallowed hard before he spoke.

Warily, Tahlee said, “None, commander.”