“The message is interesting in a few ways, Captain.  It’s not the usual frequency we’ve seen from this colony.  It’s also reading as being transmitted from a different communication system and location than the previous.  The last contact was had a month ago, and they dismissed any offer of help from us or the local Task Group.”  Atetga glanced back at her console as she faced Crawford, “The computer’s concerned enough to flag the message and the contents for further evaluation…never mind what I think.” Pete indicated to her, and she shook her head nervously, “It’s very unusual, sir.  Colonies in this space haven’t upgraded much of their communications equipment.  We were able to pull the logs and compare the voice and background readings…those are also very different.”

Crawford furrowed his brow.  They’d been sent into the Deneb sector to assist.  They’d received some small requests and had made a few deliveries.  This latest call from a nearby colony had sparked interest due to the longstanding isolationist practices of the people there.  As Atega ran down her list of concerns, he was also starting to wonder.  The rest of the bridge crew had turned in their stations, curious about what this all meant. He’d reached out to his Task Force Commander, and the concern from Captain Fontana had been palpable.  “I spoke with our Task Force command…and they were concerned about a possible coup…or something worse.”

Catani spoke from her station, “The Alahans colony reports make no mention of political issues in previous observations. It’s a small colony, about 2,000 souls.  Human mostly, but a growing…oh…hell.”  Crawford turned to her, and she pointed at the display, “There have been unverified reports that Syndicate traffic has been rumored to be making more passes close to Alahans.” She scanned the reports, “It’s mostly rumor, which is why it wasn’t included in the original situation report.  That’s on me, Captain.”  Her face reddened in embarrassment.

Pete accepted her apology, “We learn from those mistakes, Lieutenant.  Anything else in those rumors?”

She bandaged her pride and replied, “Sensor reports showing large ships transitioning through the lanes, and some of those running with bogus transponders or spoofed registries…or running silent and deep.”  She glanced at Fowler, who was working at her science console.

“Tasking long-range sensors towards the area and a collection of warp signatures that don’t make much sense to the computer.”  She put the display on the screen, “Klingon, Romulan, Borg, and…Vulcan.”  Sadie scoffed, “There’s more, but whoever’s been flying through Alahan space recently has been covering their tracks.”

Crawford muttered from his command chair, “Goddamn Pirates.  Add them to the list.  I don’t think we can go up against Syndicate ships.  Catari?”  The look on her face was answer enough, “That’s what I thought.  We’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.  I don’t want to pull Mackenzie away from Janoor.”  He tapped his badge, “Captain Dread to the bridge.”  He sighed as he closed the channel, “She is going to hate this.”

“I hate this.” Dread glanced from Crawford to the rest of the bridge crew, “I hate it for the reasons I’ve already said, but I also hate it because it’s our only real option.  Pulling Mackenzie leaves Janoor poorer; we can’t afford to let that happen.  You’re taking the Hasard Team disguised as they’ll be.”  She raised her hand, “If you’re going planetside, I’m sending an Odyssey class-sized chance of survival.  Catari, Moore, Ford, and Prentice are along for the ride.  You can pick the rest.”  She glared at her commanding officer, “I’m putting this one on the chart; you can be damned sure of that.”

Pete chuckled dryly, “Fair enough.  Team, let’s move.  Captain Dread, you have the CONN.”  She sat roughly in the chair and muttered something as he led the team into the turbolift.  The doors closed, and they were on their way.

Catari wondered aloud, “Why did she put our Chief Counselor on the away team?”

Crawford’s smile disappeared, “You need to read your fellow crewmates files more closely.”  He held the silence until the door opened and led his tactical and security chief into the corridors, “Milton Ford was a security and tactical officer for ten years – much of that in the Dominion War.  He was an instructor in his discipline at Starfleet Academy for ten years after that.  He left the academy for ten more years in security and tactical before deciding to return and put on the teal shirt of counseling.”

Athena’s mouth had dropped open, and she consciously forced it closed, “Thirty years in security and tactical?  Why isn’t he chief?”

They rounded a corner, and Crawford explained, “You’re young, Lieutenant.  You haven’t been through it in the same way.  I saw some things…but Ford was in the thick of everything.  You see the fires of hell every day…eventually, you’ll want to stand by the cold sea to find some rest.”

Catari stopped, and Crawford turned around as she leveled her gaze at him, “You speak from experience, sir.”

Pete felt his emotions stir.  A quick, “I do, Lieutenant.”  The silent canyon separated them for but a moment before he indicated the corridor ahead, “Let’s not keep the team waiting.  Somebody needs our help.”  She sighed, knowing she’d have to find the right time to ask her captain about his words.  He had a longer story than they had time as they walked briskly to the shuttle bay.