Through the wide windows of Daedalus‘s conference room the large flood lights of Starbase 72’s space dock bathed the room in the blue glow that maintained the docks perpetual twilight. Passing craft cast shadows across the small rooms walls akin to an aquarium. Nimble guppies of shuttlecraft swarmed around great whales of capital ships as they slowly drifted through the dock yard, their long glowing fin-like nacelles gently pulsing with expertly contained energy, as their bulky hulls soared gracefully through the transparent sea. Across the expansive tank, cradled by the barely visible blue beams of the dock’s tractor beams, lay an injured leviathan; an old Excelsior class vessel hung in the docks tight embrace as swarms of workbees flitted between its scars. The long grey hull of the aged champion, pot marked by the cruel talons of Dominion ships, rested securely alongside the large dockyard, umbilical’s of life support snaking their way across the tired hull. Along her chest a great blue streak, reaching from the deflector all the way to the large shuttle bay at the aft, betrayed her vulnerable status as emergency forcefields continued to flit in and out of sight, specks of dust and metal causing them to flare to life in a desperate attempt to keep the internal volume of the great ship secure. Wounded but no less impressive the storied vessel waited patiently for Starfleet Command’s decision as to its future; the cost of repairing such damage was being acutely assessed against the vessel’s service and usefulness, each bolt and deck plate placed on the scales of worth. In the vast ocean of the milky way galaxy every ship was vital. The ever expanding borders of the Federation required constant patrols and beyond them lay the murky waters of foreign powers. 

Captain Tanek gazed into the aquarium of Starbase 72, silently grateful that Daedalus had managed to avoid any major damage or loss of life in the recent deployment into the Deneb sector. Whilst the relatively modern vessel would have likely been safe from retirement, save any massive damage, waiting was not in his ships nature and even now as they hung in this corner of spacedock, currently an intensive care ward for Fourth Fleet ships awaiting transfer to Avalon Fleet Yards, the Denobulan captain’s hands itched to be free and sailing into the stars again. Hearing the last of his staff take a seat he turned to the room, a grateful smile spreading across his face. 

“Good morning everyone.” Tanek said, crossing the short distance to the chair at the head of the table. “Firstly, let me thank you all for your excellent work whilst I’ve been napping.” A slight giggle spread round the room. “I’m glad to see that we’re almost fully restocked and repaired. Please pass my thanks onto all your teams.”

“It was all thanks to Commander Dil, sir. He was adamant we’d be ready to go the moment you woke up.” a woman said from across the other end of the table. Her swept back hair revealing the tell-tale ridges high on her cheek bones that spoke of a Xindi ancestry as she gave a sideways smile to the young XO. Dil would never claim the credit for driving the crew’s preparations but Oyvo was happy to speak up for him. 

“Is that so? Maybe I should take more naps and leave him in charge more often?” Tanek joked, a gleeful smirk widening his lips as another ripple of quiet laughter spread round the room. “It seems them Dil’s task mastering has been just in time.” he said, reaching forward to press a small panel in the desk in front of him. A holoprojector in the centre of the table sprung into life, conjuring a small orbital Regula style outpost that orbited silently round a grey surfaced planetoid. “This is Outpost 583, AKA Bletchley base, a research station orbiting a moon Jenkins Beta III near the Cardassian border. It missed its regular check-in two week ago and we’re being sent to investigate.”

“Why so long?” Dil said, picking up a padd that was laid in front of him and scrolling through the list of transmissions. 

“With the fourth fleet’s operation in the Deneb sector it got missed. There’s been a lot of comms flying around the quadrant, no-one spotted one small station hadn’t sent in its relatively mundane update.” Tanek replied. “Long range scans have confirmed it’s still in system and in what appears to be a steady orbit. It was clear of occupied Dominion space and there’s been no indication of any other players.”

“Then it’s a comm failure?” Sima offered, the petite human woman lent forward on her chair.

“The base has warp-capable auxilary craft in the way of three type 9 shuttles. If you lost comms, you’d send one of those out with a message.” Dil said, his attention still fixed on the padd in front of him, scrolling furiously as his eyes darted back and forth across the screen. “There was a contingent of Starfleet Officers aboard, in addition to the research team. They would have known that should be their next move.”

“Then a life support failure?” Sima whispered, the implied consequences clear to everyone round the table. 

“Command had a similar thought until we received this, 24 hours ago.” Tanek said, leaning forward and pressing the pad again. 

The holographic station disappeared and was replaced by the head and shoulders of an aged Bolian woman in operations gold. “Starfleet Command, this is Outpost 583. We apologise for the delayed check-in, a passing meteorite shower impacted the base and damaged our comm array. It is now repaired. We are transmitting our back-dated updates now. Outpost 583 out.” The woman’s bust disappeared again, replaced by the holographic base that silently span around the grey meteor struck moon.

“That seems abrupt.” Zaya said. All attention turned to the Cardassian at the end of the table, unfamiliar eyes assessed the woman, an interloper in their briefing room. She turned to look at Bib, seated next to her, for support but the Andorian was lost in thought. “Well it is. Especially if they’ve been out of contact for two weeks.”

“That’s what the officer of the watch thought too, so he dug a bit deeper into the long range scans. There were no indications of a meteor shower in the area, not even passing near the system.” Tanek replied. “Nor were there any indications of activity in the sensor data included within the base’s packet.”

“A hostage situation? They are close to the Cardassian border and the True Way has been getting bolder.” Bahir suggested, the Saurian reached one long coral finger to a panel on the counter and the technical specifications of the base appeared beside the hologram. “The base is only lightly armed. Even the Cardassians would have little trouble in taking it easily.” Bahir continued, barely masking a side look towards Zaya. 

“Unlikely; a Cardassian force wouldn’t fake a transmission, the risks are too great. I would have relayed text only messages from one of the shuttles and faked a meteor shower.” Zaya said cooly, she had sat across from much more threatening men than one disgruntled Starfleet Lieutenant. 

“Either way. Why are we being sent to investigate?” Sima asked.

Nodding to the Betazoid woman sat to his left Tanek offered the floor to the chief science officer. 

“Bletchley base is a deep space research platform for the development of co-ordinated & integrated artificial intelligence. One of many abandoned research avenues Starfleet was operating as part of a fleet modernization programme, Starfleet Command allowed the base to continue operating when the Daystrom Institute petitioned for the value of its research. This is the first time there has been any suspicious activity.” Rana concluded. The Betazoid woman wore a conflicted look; still struggling with manage her own emotions following the trials of the Lost Fleet, something nagged at her core about this mission. AI was a touchy subject throughout the Federation, particularly after the synthetic attack on Utopia Planitia and historically giving AI control of starships had been a less than successful endeavour. 

Bib thudded the table top as he came to a realisation, “I knew I’d read Bletchley base somewhere. Starfleet security argued for it to be out in deep space in case it ever had an M-5 incident.” A wave of understanding looks ran around the conference room, with the lift on the Syntehtic ban various news sources had dredged up old stories warning of dangerous thinking machines. 

“Correct. With the agreement of the Cardassian Union the base was stationed along the border in a remote and barren system, far from normal trade routes and civilian or military activity. With collaborative support from the Cardassian Science Ministry the base has been operating for almost 2 years without incident.” Rana said, the nagging still deep within her stomach.

“Command has instructed us to rendezvous at the base and investigate. They are advising caution and a possible emergence event. Thankfully we now have the renowned Theta Squad in our midst.” Tanek motioned down the table with a genuine smile, as all eyes again turned toward the two newcomers. “Lieutenant Commander Bib and his second in command Lieutenant Zaya will be joining us at the table from now on and I expect everyone to welcome the whole team to the family.” Tanek cast a glance to Bahir, a quiet word from Commander Dil had brought the captain up to speed. “We’re all here for the same purpose, to protect the people of the Federation and right now the crew of Bletchley base may need us. Let’s keep our fingers crossed it’s only a technical fault.”

Standing to indicate the briefing was over, the senior staff began collecting their padds and drinks, Bib caught himself before he rushed to attention noticing none of the others had stood on ceremony. A raised hand from Tanek caused silence to fall upon the room.

“I’d just like to say how proud I am of all you. I haven’t really had a chance to speak to you all after the Battle at Farpoint but you have all given me your best. We we’re extremely lucky during the Deneb operation but I know that you all have friends and relatives amongst the fleet who suffered and I send my good wishes to them all.” the Denobulan said, he usual smiling demeanour overwhelmed by the thought of his own losses during the battles with the Lost Fleet. “I am reminded of the old Andorian saying. The toughest ice, is that which has weathered the storm.”

Silence hung in the room as the shadow of a whale-like capital ship swept over the Daedalus, heading towards the space docks door. The Fourth Fleet had suffered a great deal in the operation, whose legitimacy was still being debated at the highest levels of Starfleet and innumerable questions still danced on whispers throughout the corridors of the fleet. ‘What were the Founders going to do with this sudden military asset?,’ ‘Had the Dominion really not known what the Lost Fleet was doing?,’ ‘Why had Starfleet not sent more aid?’ 

“I suggest you all take some time to reflect properly on our losses and how we can best serve their memories.” Tanek said, picking up his large mug that gently steamed, moral had suffered greatly from the conflict, opening new and old wounds alike. “Commander Dil, please take us to Jenkins Beta III, we have a mystery to solve. And I’d like to be back for Frontier day. I hear there will be cake.”

A few hours later the sleek grey hull of Daedalus swam effortlessly through the spacedock towards the gigantic gates of the upper dome, weaving its way around great leviathans, each nestled in their protective bays, as shoals of shuttlecraft darted across the expansive, empty sea. Passing through the great doors and back into the inky blackness she filled her nacelles with plasma as the warp bubble began to form and with a great crack she was catapulted into the tides of the universe, the galactic winds carrying her to the next adventure.