Rieko cleared his throat.  It was a vulgar noise.

Just like that sound, Rieko’s broad body acted as an obstruction, blocking Yuulik’s view of Nova DeVoglaer.  Since she strode into the astrometrics lab, he perpetually remained in Yuulik’s way.  Rieko twisted his torso to an uncanny degree, turning back to make eyes at Yuulik.  Silently, he pantomimed a single word at Yuulik:

“Manners!“

Even though Chief Engineer Rieko was seemingly making small talk with Nova and Flavia, his posture shifted.  The way he rounded his shoulders and curved his arms, Rieko looked like he was holding court at the Tetrazona Palace.

“Pardon me,” he said, “Lieutenant DeVoglaer, may I introduce you to Lieutenant Yuulik from our social sciences section.”

Yuulik started to reply with, “I… uh…”

For once, language escaped Yuulik.  Cognitive dissonance lapped upon the shore of her consciousness.  Two opposing truths battled for dominance and Yuulik didn’t know how to function until she settled on which truth was true.  For seven years, Yuulik went to bed every night dreaming up the scientific miracle that would save Nova from the temporal inversion fold that had claimed her for over a century.  Their paths had first crossed on Yuulik’s cadet cruise and her failure to rescue Nova had awoken something in Yuulik she had never felt before.  Yuulik had flirted with obsession over other research projects throughout those seven years, but she had never known love like the love she had felt for that first temporal anomaly.

Stepping closer to Nova, Yuulik found herself faced with a stranger.  Nova’s dark bouffant was the same, but her Klingon War-era skant had been replaced by a modern Starfleet uniform of mostly black.  Even the way Nova carried herself in the new boots was unrecognizable.  Odd, what difference a pair of boots could make.

It did not compute that the same woman who Yuulik had pined over rescuing for seven years could stand before her as an utter stranger.  Yuulik didn’t know the first thing about the journey that had brought Nova aboard the Constellation and there wasn’t even a temporal inversion fold keeping them apart.  It was a cloud of paradox.  And yet Rieko was choosing to insert himself into this paradox by introducing them to one another, as if for the first time.

Nova smiled softly.  “We’ve met.”

A few paces to Nova’s side, Science Chief Flavia waggled a hand in Yuulik’s direction.  Somehow, the movement conveyed both pleading and condescension at the same time.

“Yuulik, dear,” Flavia said and then she pointed at Nova pointedly.  “She offends my space.  Take her away.  Give her the petty work.”

“Excuse me?” Nova sputtered at Flavia’s assertion.

Simultaneously, Yuulik offered a begrudging, “Understood.”  Why she assented to Flavia so easily, Yuulik herself was uncertain.  Did she hope to uncover some new scientific mystery at Nova’s heart, Yuulik wondered.  Or was there a part of her that wanted to protect Nova from Flavia’s wrath?  There was no time to ponder it.  Their mission was too dire.

Despite Nova’s flare-up at Flavia’s dismissal, she followed Yuulik out of the lab without any further objection.  Unintentionally, Yuulik adapted her pace to be in unison with Nova, their footfalls synchronised perfectly.  Yuulik took the lead, guiding them into the corridor.

“We’re sifting through a massive quantity of intel, hundreds of gigaquads of data,” Yuulik explained.  “We don’t know from where the Dominion Fleet has come or for how long they’ve been stalking the Deneb Sector.  All we have from Fourth Fleet Command are fragments of sensor data from any Starfleet vessel that’s engaged the Dominion.  And survived.”

Quickly interpreting what Yuulik was telling her, Nova inferred, “Our mission is to track their movements for the past few days, weeks, or even months?  Maybe find the very oldest sighting of the Dominion Fleet, even if it’s from the fuzziest edge of long-range sensor scans by a fleeing starship or subspace relay?”

Yuulik nodded briskly at Nova with a satisfied grin.  “It’s how we’ll know where to look for their point of origin.”

“Heh,” Nova breathed out, smirking.  “From whence they came.”

Coming towards them from the opposite end of the corridor were the Constellation’s captain and first officer.  Kellin’s eyes lit up and his mouth gaped open, as if he needed to pant to cool off his excitement.  Being promoted to first officer had done little to change Lieutenant Commander Kellin Rayco’s demeanour.  His personality remained as big and gregarious as his frame, despite trading in his security uniform for command crimson.

“Hey, Nova,” Kellin encouragingly said.  “Looking sharp in that uniform.  Welcome aboard!”

Captain Taes, meanwhile, looked right through Yuulik and Nova.  She brushed past them without a nod and she led Kellin into the astrometrics lab.

Flavia heard the arrival of Taes before she saw her Deltan colleague, commanding officer and sometimes rival.  By all appearances, in the half a year they’d been tied together by their joint mission of scientific diplomacy, Taes was a being of profound awareness of her own body.  Not only was she athletic of build, her every step, every movement, appeared to be intentional.  Perhaps calculated. There was never a scuff or a rustle or hiccup out of place.  Not ever would a Romulan choose to present themselves like that because it appear to be an obvious pretence.

“Doctor Flavia,” Taes called out in a sing-song.  As far as Flavia could remember, Taes very infrequently referred to her by the title she used with the Federation.  Flavia had to assume the flattery served as foreplay to a reprimand or request.

“You’re out of time.  I need a course,” Taes said, as she approached the wide console where Flavia was working.  “Starfleet has entrusted us with this capable new starship.  We can’t remain at Farpoint.”  –Taes lowered her voice, the affectation faded– “It’s not safe.”

Flavia was quick to point out, “Your computer has analysed all the sensor logs but even her best guess isn’t much clearer than ours.  I’ve assigned crewmembers from every department to continue parsing the data, looking for the types of patterns artificial intelligence isn’t programmed to notice.”

Something in what Flavia said appeared to pique Taes’ interest.  She furrowed her brow in a thoughtful expression and, more than that, Flavia thought she saw a flash of fear cross Taes’ eyes.  When Taes continued, she maintained a soft volume, barely above a whisper.

Taes asked, “The sensor package we were sent has been collected from Dominion encounters with the Fourth Fleet in addition to other starships outside the Fourth Fleet, yes?”

Flavia maintained a neutral presence, when she answered, “Most of the oldest sensor logs are from Task Group 514 or civilian freighters who were travelling beyond Federation borders.”

“How would you respond,” Taes asked, “if I asked about the veracity of those sensor logs in particular?”

A saccharine smile came to Flavia and she said, “You needn’t ask.  My entourage has methods for verification.”

The fear behind Taes’ eyes appeared to abate.  She nodded subtly.

There was something tight in Taes’ throat when she said, “I always knew our partnership would prove advantageous.”  And she stared at Flavia.  “Still.  That takes time.  I need a heading or a relative bearing.”

Sighing petulantly at Taes’ impatience, Flavia swiped her hand through the holographic LCARS controls.  In response, everything cleared off the astrometric viewscreen aside from the star charts of the Deneb Sector.  

Flavia said, “The earliest sightings we assume to be from the Dominion fleet were here, here, here and here.”

As she spoke, Flavia added Dominion icons to identify the locations she was describing.  They were well beyond the Deneb Sector’s Federation border, well beyond Dominion-occupied territory, and even beyond Saxue.  She drew a tight yellow oval around those locations.  As Flavia went on, she drew a larger purple oval that encompassed even more space.

“Assuming they were travelling at warp seven when they were noticed, the Dominion fleet’s point of origin could have been anywhere within this area.  If the Constellation is working alone, it would take us weeks to survey every star system within this swath.”

“The last time you kicked me out of this lab…” Taes emphatically said, making a blatantly hyperbolic statement, “you told me you would handle this.  You told me I could trust you with the fate of the Federation.  The entirety of the Fourth Fleet has been dispatched to fortify the Federation’s borders.  Our deep-space telescopes in the Gamma Quadrant saw no sign of this fleet.  We weren’t prepared for an invasion of this size with no warning.  Especially with so much of our fleet re-deployed for Frontier Day.”

Ever the fist in the velvet glove, Kellin Rayco added, “Our best hope of driving back the Dominion is uncovering how and why they attacked us here, rather than emerging from the wormhole in the Bajor system.  What is their strategy in coming at us sideways?  For all we know, the ships we’ve seen may not even be the entirety of their fleet.  Do they have the capability to produce even more warships from some secret reserve?”

While they spoke, Flavia nodded incessantly, because that usually soothed Federation types.  It made them feel heard and important, even if she wasn’t really listening.  When Kellin let that dreadful question hang in the air between them, Flavia tapped at her console twice, causing a new Starfleet arrowhead to appear on the map.

“We need more information, clearly,” Flavia said, “and I have another source of intelligence in mind, but you’re not going to like it.  The Kholara Observatory is a tiny Federation space station.  It was originally commissioned with a crew of five but it’s been fully automated for years now.  Normally, the observatory studies stellar phenomenon and spatial anomalies, but what’s important is that its sensors are trained right across the star systems where the earliest sightings of the Dominion Fleet were spotted.”

Kellin scoffed.  “Flavia, the Kholara Observatory is right on the Federation border, what’s now the heart of Dominion-occupied space…”

“That location,” Flavia said, “is exactly what makes it our best source of intelligence.  All of your other Starfleet installations are too far inside Federation territory.”

Taes’s gaze remained fixed on the representation of the observatory on the screen.  She offered no commentary on the dangers of its location.

“Why are its records missing from the sensor package we were sent by Fourth Fleet Command?” Taes asked.

Flavia answered, “Your network of subspace relays can secure no contact with the observatory.  It may have been damaged by a Jem’Hadar attack or the Dominion is interfering with our subspace signals throughout their occupied territory.”

“Or,” Kellin added darkly, “the Kholara Observatory has been destroyed.  Is it worth taking our crew behind Dominion lines for a database that may not even have the sensor logs we need?  There could be nothing there but ash and stardust.”

“Taes to Bridge,” she said, opening a communication channel to the bridge.  “Set a course for the Kholara Observatory.  Maximum warp.”  And she grinned at Kellin, plainly thrilled for the chase.  “Let’s find out.”