Streaking through the cosmos, a sleek vessel propelled by the raw power of the matter/antimatter reaction taking place in her warp core, Hathaway was surging towards Starbase Bravo with more than a point to prove. Her graceful form cut through the fabric of space, leaving a trail of shimmering energy in its wake. A testament to the ingenuity and ambition of Starfleet, soaring through the vastness of the universe with purpose and determination.

However, in an instant, the tranquillity of Hathaway’s warp flight was shattered. A catastrophic failure struck its warp engines, ripping it out of the slipstream and plunging it back into the realm of normal space. As the ship emerged from warp, a haunting silence filled the air. The once-potent hum of the warp engines was replaced by an eerie stillness. Hathaway hung suspended in space, adrift and vulnerable. The vibrant blue and green hues of warp plasma leaked from the upper starboard nacelle, casting an ethereal glow against the cold darkness of space.

Alarm klaxons blared across the ship, and red emergency lights bathed the corridors in an ominous glow. Frantic voices filled the air, issuing orders and reporting the extent of the damage. The ship’s systems strained under the unexpected emergence from warp, struggling to maintain stability and prevent further catastrophe.

Captain Nazir’s voice boomed over the internal comm, her tone a mix of concern and authority. The Trill urged the crew to remain calm, to rely on their training and expertise to navigate this dire situation. Her words offered a glimmer of reassurance, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. In main engineering, the team led by the new Tellarite chief, Commander Denen Nes, descended upon the stricken warp engines with urgency. Their nimble fingers danced across control panels, attempting to diagnose and rectify the catastrophic failure that had brought the ship to a grinding halt. Each movement was executed with precision and determination, their expertise driving them forward despite the mounting pressure.

Outside the confines of the ship, the vast expanse of space stretched endlessly, indifferent to the plight of the Hathaway and its crew. Stars glittered in the distance, casting a gentle radiance that contrasted with the tense atmosphere within the ship. A tense atmosphere that was only going to get worse.

“Sabotage?!”

Standing behind her chair at the head of the observation lounge table, Keziah looked flabbergasted as she put her hands on her hips and glared across the room at the Tellarite engineer.

Commander Nes nodded, shuffling in his boots. “Yes Captain, sabotage.” With that, the man produced a small device from his pocket which he tossed onto the tabletop between them. “To all intents and purposes, it’s a bomb on a delayed timer. Whoever planted it knew exactly when they wanted it to go off,” he told the assembled team.

Nazir looked around the room in disbelief. Noli stood beside her, shaking her head slowly, while Or’uil and Prida both tried to get a better look at the device. “It obviously didn’t explode,” the Bajoran first officer stated, “so what did it do?”

“We found it on the plasma conduits in the starboard nacelle power distribution module,” Nes revealed, moving to the wall-mounted monitor and revealing a schematic of the ship. A flashing indicator showed exactly where the bomb had been located. “It released a cascading resonance pulse that disrupted the plasma flow to the nacelle and ripped us out of warp. If it had been any more severe, we’d have lost the nacelle completely,” he turned back to the Trill at the head of the table.

“Fuck me,” Nazir hung her head, shaking it in continued disbelief.

“What’s the damage?” Lieutenant Prida asked, turning to look at her successor from engineering.

“Nothing major,” Nes shrugged, “we’re just going to be stuck here for a few hours until the plasma flow can be regulated again and the alignment of the nacelle is checked out.”

“So all the perpetrator has achieved is to delay us from our objective, stranding us in space and, potentially, making us a sitting duck,” Noli smirked, placing her hands on the back of the chair in front of her and leaning back to stretch out her body.

“Is that all?” Or’uil cocked his big-eared head to the left as he regarded the Commander carefully. “I will increase security patrols on all decks and post guards outside key facilities,” he advised the command team.

“We have no way of telling when this device was planted, or by who,” the Tellarite interjected. “It could have been this morning, or weeks ago. We might be searching for someone who is long gone.”

“Or they may still be here, ready to cause more damage,” Or’uil countered.

“Or worse,” the Bajassian Ops chief added in support of her Ungeat colleague.

Kicking her chair in frustration, the Captain dropped her arms to her side. “I thought we were done with this shit. Now we face the prospect of more changelings being aboard, and the fact that it could, literally, be anyone,” she sounded exasperated, making reference to Doctor Zinn’s findings during the autopsy of the sh’Elas changeling. “Can we proceed at impulse?” She asked once she had regained her composure.

“Sure,” the Tellarite shrugged, “just nothing too bumpy.”

“Go. Get on with the repairs,” Nazir nodded, dismissing the engineer and leaving her in the presence of three of her most trusted officers.

“I swear to the Prophets,” Noli grinned with gritted teeth, “if that man shrugs his shoulders one more time, I may have to beat him.”

“Torture is not an acceptable form of punishment…” Or’uil swiftly noticed the change of expression on the faces of everyone in the room and smiled, “…but I clearly see now that you were joking, Commander. Perhaps I might suggest that we launch a CAP to secure the area until we are ready to move?” The tactical officer looked at the Captain with his bulbous green eyes and his ears twitching.

“We do still have the lingering threat of Kensington and Weytahn riding our ass,” the Bajoran first officer folded her arms across her chest, nodding in support of the motion from the Ungeat.

“Do it,” Nazir nodded, pulling out her chair and collapsing into it. “And get Henry to resume course, full impulse. Prida, where are we with communications?”

“Exactly where we were earlier,” the grey-skinned Bajoran wrinkled her nose. “Incapable of transmitting any outgoing communications, but we can receive transmissions from elsewhere. We can’t isolate the problem, but I’ve got my best people on it.”

“How long until the Frontier Day celebrations begin?”

Noli glanced down at the seated Captain, steeling herself to deliver the bad news. “Under two hours.”

“So, whatever they have planned could be less than two hours away and there is nothing we can do.”

“We tried getting a transmission through from one of the shuttles,” Prida advised the Captain, “but the carrier waves just weren’t strong enough. We’re too far away.”

“About that. I might have an idea…” Noli smirked. Pulling out her chair, the Bajoran took a seat around the table with the Captain while the other two officers departed to relay the orders from their commanding officer.

Almost an hour later, a sleek shuttlecraft emerged out of the upper shuttlebay, its hull shimmering with a polished sheen, reflecting the ambient light within the bay. With a surge of power, the shuttle’s impulse engines roared to life, propelling it forward with graceful agility. As it cleared the threshold of the shuttlebay, the pilot deftly manoeuvred the craft, aligning it with the path of escape. In a matter of seconds, the shuttle’s warp drive engaged, and a brilliant cascade of multicoloured light enveloped the vessel. The stars outside streaked past in a blur, painting a mesmerizing tableau of cosmic beauty and leaving the stranded hulk of the Hathaway behind.