Barely a few weeks had passed since Cam’s initial step onto Starbase Bravo’s bustling promenade, yet a whirlwind of events had already swiftly unfolded. What was anticipated to be a memorable Frontier Day – Cam’s first as an Officer – morphed into a chilling nightmare. The echoes of the recent terrorist attack on a Starfleet recruitment facility should have served as a forewarning, but the galaxy-shaking events that followed caught everyone off guard.

His arrival and the preparations for the grand ‘Big Day’ now feel trivial amid the chaos. Alarming reports ripple through the station’s ranks, sparking fear of threats like Borg, Changelings, and even the long-forgotten Jem’Hadar. Born after the Dominion Wars, Cam’s knowledge of these adversaries stems from the tales of war-weary veterans who walked San Francisco’s streets. As a child, he had relished soaking in these stories, when they were merely accounts of a bygone era, akin to the tales of the Klingon Wars.

The instant he was able to, he reached out to his family in San Francisco, and thankfully, they were safe. His brother Ozzy, a first-year science student at the academy, had been at home during the turmoil. “What triggered this?” Cam pondered incessantly over the past few weeks. While his family seemed unscathed, the same couldn’t be said for his academy comrades. Reports came in about his former classmates being assimilated by the Borg; three didn’t survive the ordeal.” Why haven’t I changed? Or have I?” was another question he mulled over. A statement cited transporters and an age cutoff of 25 as factors. Cam figured Ozzy likely hadn’t used a transporter yet, as he could practically stroll to the academy, and the first two semesters were all about introductions and mundane basics. Cam couldn’t help but roll his eyes, thinking, “Ozzy would probably thrive on the basics, he’s such a geek sometimes.”

Even in sector Alpha-Red, tension hung thick in the air. If it were something filterable, the ventilation systems would have choked on it days ago. What had felt like a comforting cocoon mere weeks ago had now transformed into a pit of unease and despair. Lieutenant Hanson’s behavior had shifted drastically; he kept to himself and conducted sporadic docking bay inspections. This change hadn’t escaped Cam’s notice. However, it became all the more apparent when Lieutenant Junior Grade Praga, seemingly out of nowhere, turned to him and asked, “What’s your read on Hanson? His behavior’s fishy. Borg or Changeling?”

“I’ve read that those who transformed into Borg in the Sol System were under 25. Hanson’s around 50, so Borg seems unlikely. Wouldn’t his skin be all greyish?” Cam countered.

Praga’s grin widened as she quipped, “Hanson’s 35. And aren’t you under 25, Solari? Maybe you’re a secret Borg infiltrator. You’ve only been here, what, a couple of weeks?”

“Once more, Lieutenant. The blush on my cheeks disagrees, but I do enjoy being part of a group, a collective one might say,” Cam remarked with a playful tone. He noticed a momentary flicker of surprise on her face before she realized he was joking.

Abruptly, Cam’s com badge emitted a chirp, and the authoritative voice of Commander Carter resonated through the channel, “Carter to Solari.”

Without hesitation, Cam tapped his com badge, responding swiftly, “Ensign Solari here, Commander.”

“Ensign, I require you in my office immediately,” Carter ordered, his tone unwavering. Cam acknowledged the instruction and rose from his station. As he exited the chamber, he caught Lieutenant Praga’s quip, “Perhaps today’s your lucky day, off to helm a geometric shape, maybe a sphere or a cube.”

Shortly thereafter, Cam found himself seated across from Commander Carter, completely unaware of the unfolding situation. “Ensign Solari, your prompt arrival is appreciated,” Carter began, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He wasted no time in continuing, “New orders have just arrived. You’re temporarily being reassigned under the command of Lieutenant Commander Peri Anya, our Director of Promenade Security. You are to report to her in her office on the Promenade.”

Cam was clearly rattled by this unexpected development. He managed to respond, his voice tinged with confusion “Commander, I mean no disrespect, I’m sure you’ve read in my personnel files that my father is a fight instructor, and while I can certainly hold my own, I haven’t been trained for security roles”

Carter’s retort was unyielding, his tone cutting through Cam’s objections, “I’m not concerned with your opinions on the matter, Ensign. This is a direct order. Report to Lieutenant Commander Peri’s office in sector I-Navy immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir” Cam replied, his posture stiffening, the fears that had plagued him in recent weeks since Frontier Day resurfacing.

“Remember, Solari, this is classified information. Not a word to anyone. Understood?” Carter swiftly added before Cam could exit the room.

Hurrying to Sector I-Navy, Cam’s thoughts raced with conjectures like, ‘Are they suspecting me to be a Changeling?’ followed by more rational self-reassurances, ‘No, it’s surely just a coincidence.’ Upon entering the security office, he approached the counter and addressed the clerk, his voice laden with uncertainty, “I’m Ensign Cam Solari. I’m here to report to Lieutenant Commander Peri.”

The clerk gestured vaguely, indicating the direction. Cam embarked on a mild scavenger hunt and eventually discovered a door labeled ‘Interrogation Rooms and Holding Cells.’ He continued his search and, after some minor investigative effort, located a door marked ‘Lt. Commander Peri Anya, Director of Promenade Security.’ With a tentative tap of the chime, he awaited a response, his mind ablaze with questions and curiosity.