The monotonous pitter patter of small impacts continued against T’sal’s shelter, each tiny speck of dust reverberated through the duranium walls and into the small chamber creating an orchestral score that swept through the room. Each swelling crescendo was counterpoint to moments of total silence for eternal seconds in the stillness of the shuttlecraft T’sal found himself floating in nothingness. With the small craft’s magnetic plating depowered and the almost innocuous hiss of life support systems recycling air absent as the depowered craft floated effortlessly in the silent inkiness. Sand storms were common in the desert biomes of Vulcan and T’sal had been taught early on that the best way to survive was hunker down and wait; trust the walls of your shelter and with patience breaths outlast the danger. The pilot, tethered by a small seatbelt to the conn station of the shuttle Thronia, was not known for his ability to sit still. Despite a century of practice in a multitude of Vulcan traditions T’sal had only ever found logic in flying, the ebb and flow of atmosphere, the mathematical precision of vectors and arcs, flying was mathematics and mathematics were logic. To T’sal, sitting still was illogical. A great boulder does not outlast the storm forever but is ever worn away by the gusts that beat against its back; the leaf on the other hand rolls and twists, it flies as well as any creature of the sky and is transported, bruised and battered admittedly, with an adventure to retell. 

Silence hovered throughout the briefing room like a dense cloud, the cogs of brains permeating multiple possibilities almost audible against the low thrum of Nestus’s heart a few decks down. 

“Sensor range has been extended 15% due to Log’s upgrades but the cluster is still obscuring the long range scans. We can see further into the cluster but the ambient electromagnetic interference causes any usable data to be clouded in mess.” Zaya sighed, their cup lifting to their lips. Finding empty again they crossed the room towards the small replicator nestled in the corner bulkhead. “By the time the sensor data gets to us from the cluster it’s just filled with interference.”

“We need to be is closer.” Ole stated. The large Bolian was not known to be a man of many words, ‘succinct’ was how his last psychological review had reported him. The counsellor had used a selection of less professional words in private. 

“Ideally yes. The massive amount of stellar radiation makes any data collection unreliable. At best we can see shadows of objects through it but it’s like dropping a drop of dye in one end of an Olympic swimming pool and asking someone underwater at the other end to tell you how much you put in.” David said, turning to the large Bolian and hoping his Olympics reference wasn’t too alien. “If we can close the distance to the potential targets we can get the data before it becomes clouded. The less radiation between us and the target the more improved our chances are of getting a positive identification.”

“That’s what I said.” Ole replied. “Closer.” 

“Unfortunately  being closer means entering Dominon occupied territory and getting closer to those patrols.” Hermira added. Keying a button on her padd the Orion computer expert brought the holographic display in the centre of the table to life. Arcing lines of purple criss-crossed the map. “Patrols are moving through the area regularly, which is one of the reasons we were sent to investigate in the first place, they’re irregular in size, route and schedule.” Another button press added more lines to the map, each slightly different than the one before. 

“One of the Dominions common tactics, randomise patrols and searches to disadvantage hostile recon.” Maine identified from his position leaning over the table. “Any indication they’ve seen us?”

“Nothing obvious, it’s hard to tell with the random schedule whether patrols are increasing or not, plus their ships are in an advantageous position looking out from the cluster.” Hermira nodded. 

“We are a very exposed target.” Ole said. “They’d be idiots if they aren’t watching us.” ‘Blunt’, that had been the descriptor the counsellor had used behind closed doors.

“So we can’t get closer ourselves.” Maine said, lifting his hands to his temples and massaging his strained brain. 

“A probe?” Zaya offered, returning to their seat, ice cubes clinking in a freshly filled mug. 

“We don’t have anything designed for large packet data relay, we only carry basic scanning probes.” Log replied, the young Tellerite engineer looked uncomfortable stuck in the conversation. He clearly longed to get back down to his safe space in Nestus’s engine room. “I could probably convince something to pass a message on. It’d take some sweet talking and a transmitter upgrade with parts nicked from Nestus’s secondary array…”

“Not likely, the probes don’t have strong enough power plants to make the detailed scans and relay it back to us through the radiation.” David interrupted. 

“Plus anything with a power signature is going to be jumped on by Dominion ships. We aren’t in a position to face off against a full patrol.” Hermira noted. 

“Exposed & weak.” Ole quietly muttered. 

“There is a shattered exo-planet just over the border that’s slipping out of the gravity well of the cluster.” T’sal offered. The quiet Vulcan had been running a number of simulations in his head, half listening to his colleagues whilst his cybernetically enhanced brain factored thousands of variables. The momentum of stellar breezes and gravity wells, speed and trajectory analysis, energy dispersal and radiation density calculations; it was only now when a clear solution presented itself that he chose to speak up. 

“A probe might make it to the exo-planet but I doubt it’d last long in the dust cloud, not on automated piloting. It’s not hardy enough to take the beating.” Maine sighed. 

“What about a shuttlecraft?” T’sal responded quietly. Their eyes met and Maine began understood his suggestion. 

“How would it cross the border and avoid the patrols?” Maine queried, his unwavering confidence slipping as he caught up to T’sal’s plan. It would have to be precise. Something the Vulcan pilot excelled at.

“We would leave it, make a quick crossing into the territory to the exo-planet under the guise of trying to sneak a better look and when patrol heads to engage us, Nestus leaves. There is a massive amount of planetary debris in the remains of the planet, it is highly unlikely they would notice an unpowered shuttle craft.” T’sal offered. 

“Can’t we just take the scans whilst we’re there?” Ole asked, his blue brow furrowing in confusion. ”Seems stupid to go there and not just scan it ourselves.”

“We wouldn’t get long enough out there, we’d need to stay for several hours to get a good look inside the cluster as the stars move around each other.” Zaya answered, beginning to realise T’Sal’s suggestion. “It would need someone onboard to powerup, take the scans at intervals and make minor course adjustments to avoid debris.”

“Agreed.” T’sal responded, he channelled his father’s best stoic Vulcan facade as he began to see the realisation spread across the faces of the other in the room. Only Log remained lost, his wrinkled forehead criss-crossed with canyons as he struggled to comprehend. 

“I don’t see any other option, we’re running out of time. It won’t be long before the Dominion take offense to us hanging so close to the border.” Maine whispered. “Make whatever preparations you need to. We’ll make for the exo-planet in 3 hours.”

As the team slowly rose to exit the briefing room, Log still rubbing his chin in confusion, Maine and T’sal were left alone in the briefing room. 

“Are you sure?” Maine offered, he had known T’sal longest of the team. Their paths having crossed several times over the years before being assigned to the team, both professionally and personally. 

“I am always sure Jacob. I would not suggest it otherwise.” T’sal replied. 

Crossing from his seat at the head of the table Maine seemed to move through treacle, each step dragging him behind as he crossed to the other end of the small conference room. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the Vulcan and with a squeeze he said “Come back to us with a tale to tell.”

The monotonous pitter patter of small impacts continued against T’sal’s shelter as the Vulcan pilot slowly opened his eyes and reached forward to the console. Beyond the window he could see the blazing Oromal cluster bathing the small sanctuary with light and warmth, he reached forward and pressing a quick set of keys began his next sensor sweep into the heart of the flaming stellar cluster. Perhaps sitting still wasn’t always illogical.