A Type 11 shuttle peeled away and dove towards the frigid hellscape below. Never had the bridge crew felt more powerless than they did now as they watched it descend. The USS Ingenuity was fully operational, yet they could do nothing more than bow to the demands of the colonists on Beta Serpentis III. Otherwise, more of their crew would die.

“Third shuttle away,” reported Ensign Kellan Seltzer from operations. “And two more are being loaded as we speak.” The displeasure was evident in his voice. The young man hated that they’d caved to the demands of the hostage takers, but he didn’t have a better idea of what to do either.

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Lieutenant Commander Sherrod Allen frowned from the center of the bridge. “But what choice do we have?” The Executive Officer had risen through Starfleet after the Mars massacre, and he was a manifestation of the risk-averse approach that had dominated that era. He would not gamble the lives of six officers on mere principle, and the colonist’s demands thus far had been benign. “They’re asking for isolinear chips and plasma manifolds, not weapons or explosives. It seems a small price to bring our crew home.”

“My men aren’t coming home,” snapped Lieutenant J.G Rafael Cruz from tactical, his emotions getting the better of his decorum. The two security officers he’d sent with Fleet Admiral Reyes would not be coming home. They’d been murdered. Three hours ago, he’d watched as Administrator Thoss executed them on camera. “And what happens after we meet their demands? What if we can’t comply with whatever comes next?”

“Then we cross that bridge when we get to it,” Lieutenant Commander Allen replied firmly. “We’ve drawn up counterassault plans, but they’ll see our shuttles coming before we pass through the stratopause. You’d get revenge for your two, but at the expense of six more. They’d kill all the hostages before you even had your boots on the ground.”

Lieutenant J.G. Cruz sighed, but deep down, he knew the Executive Officer was right. They’d laid far too many of their comrades to rest in the Deneb Sector and over Earth. In a different era, absent those traumas, he might have been more open to creative risks, but given recent events, he wasn’t ready for any more deaths on his watch. Not now. For now, they’d stick to their plan.

Lieutenant Commander Allen turned back towards operations: “Have we made any progress figuring out what they intend to do with the items they’ve demanded?” 

“Most of it appears to relate to power management and subspace tech, but neither I nor the engineers below deck have been able to infer for what specifically,” reported Ensign Seltzer. They’d ruled out all the obvious stuff like weapons and explosives, but even when they considered more obscure possibilities, nothing quite fit. “It’s particularly strange too since Admiral Reyes offered them anything they needed for the colony. They didn’t need to take her hostage to get it.”

For a moment, the three men stood there in their own thoughts. As a strange reading pulled Ensign Seltzer away, a possibility dawned on Lieutenant J.G. Cruz: “What if it’s not about equipment for the colony?”

“What’re you implying?” Lieutenant Commander Allen asked. The older man was not prone to idle speculation. He had succeeded in his two decades long career by moving carefully and only when he had all the facts. “What else would they need this stuff for?”

“We offered to help with the colony, but that’s not carte blanche for anything and everything,” Lieutenant J.G. Cruz noted. While security on a Starfleet vessel focused mostly on external threats, before coming to Polaris Squadron, he had served in the criminal investigations unit aboard Starbase 314. In that role, speculating on motive with an incomplete set of facts had pretty much been the name of the game. “Maybe they need this equipment for something else – something unrelated to the colony – and maybe, whatever it is, they can’t justify it to us?”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” Lieutenant Commander Allen observed skeptically. “And we’re talking about conduits and chips, not fuel for plasma warheads or focusing crystals for nadion be…”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ensign Seltzer said as he drew his colleagues from their musings. “But I’m detecting a change in the interference signal coming from Beta Serpentis IV.”

“Isn’t that to be expected as it’s constantly remodulating?”  asked Lieutenant Commander Allen. The random harmonic shifts were why they couldn’t simply underwrite their signal with a destructive interference pattern to cut through the jammer.

“Yes, but this is different,” Ensign Seltzer explained. “It’s more of a ridealong signal matched to the harmonic shifts, similar to how the Andorians called us earlier.” The fact that Beta Serpentis III’s ice fishermen and tuber root farmers had cut through the jammer instantly with their dilapidated seventies era tech, while the highly proficient scientists and engineers of the USS Ingenuity had failed to with the computational might of their entire cruiser, suggested much about the relationship between the two situations.

“Is it the colonists again?” Lieutenant Commander Allen frowned. He was not looking forward to another call from Administrator Thoss. The last one had ended with an execution, a hostage situation, and a long list of demands. They were complying with all those demands, so what did the Andorians want now?

“No, sir. This is different. It’s far more subtle and barely perceptible,” Ensign Seltzer answered. “If I didn’t have every available isolinear core on this ship trying to model the variance shifts, we never would have detected it. But it’s definitely there.”

“And what is the ‘it’ in this case, Ensign?” Lieutenant Commander Allen asked. The amount of ambiguity coming from everywhere around him was starting to drive him nuts.

“It looks like some form of a comms channel.”

“Can you tell from where?”

“The absence of spectral redshifting lead me to believe it’s collocated with the primary signal at the point of origin,” Ensign Seltzer replied, explaining that, like the jamming signal preventing them from calling Polaris Squadron, this secondary signal was also coming from the uninhabited gas giant of Beta Serpentis IV. “Let me try and clean it up. Give me a second.” Everyone on the bridge was silent as he worked at his station. “Yep, it’s definitely an audio signal.”

“Put it up.”

A moment later, the bridge was overtaken by the ethereal voice of their commanding officer. 

“This is Commander Cora Lee of Starfleet to any vessel within range. Please respond. This is Commander…”

“We hear you loud and clear,” Lieutenant Commander Allen replied, but Commander Lee’s voice just continued to echo over the bridge, uninterrupted by her Executive Officer’s response.

“…Cora Lee of Starfleet to any vessel within range. Please respond.”

“Ensign, can she hear us?”

“Nope, looks like we got an issue. Stand by,” Ensign Seltzer replied, his head down as he tried to resolve the issue. “It’s a full duplex signal, but it’s non-standard. If she heard anything at all, it would have just been static. I need to adjust our subspace transceiver to compensate.” 

As Lieutenant Commander Allen stared at Ensign Seltzer, waiting for him to solve the issue, Commander Lee’s voice just continued to echo through the bridge.

“This is Commander Lee…”

Finally, Ensign Seltzer gave a nod to Lieutenant Commander Allen, and he tried again: “Commander, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Commander Lee stopped mid sentence, and, standing over a neutral interlink transceiver set within a central plexus ripped from a Borg Cube, she breathed a sigh of relief. Since coming aboard Salvage Facility 21-J, they’d been completely on their own, just struggling to survive. Now, at last, they had help. “Number one, is that you?”

“It is indeed.”

“We require immediate assistance,” Commander Lee said as she got straight to business. “For security reasons, we could not share the purpose of our trip to Beta Serpentis IV earlier today before we left, but the situation has now changed. The reason for our away mission was to check up on a classified salvage facility once used to analyze the remnants of the Borg Cube destroyed at Wolf 359, and let’s just say, we have a problem here…”

“Curious,” mused Lieutenant Commander Allen, the wheels turning in his mind. “We too have a problem with Beta Serpentis IV, but yours first?”

“Well, this facility was supposedly decommissioned decades ago,” Commander Lee explained. “But it’s crawling with armed Andorians, its synths have been weaponized, and the station’s computer core has been corrupted by Borg subroutines.”

Lieutenant Commander Allen stood there trying to process – it was a lot to take in at once – but Ensign Seltzer had a question on the top of his mind and jumped right in with it: “I assume you are aware of the signal originating from the station that’s jamming up subspace comms?”

“Indeed we are,” confirmed Commander Lee. “We’re using that same neural interlink transceiver in order to contact you.”

“Can you disable it?” asked Lieutenant Commander Allen. That would allow them to contact Polaris Squadron for help. High pressure situations like this were not his forte, and he longed for someone else to show up and call the shots.

“We could, but it would be mighty dumb,” said Dr. Tom Brooks, the Research Fellow from the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity that had traveled with Commander Lee to Salvage Facility 21-J. “If the signal suddenly stops, we’ll be tipping our hand to our plans.”

“Our plans?” inquired Lieutenant Commander Allen skeptically. Weren’t they getting ahead of themselves? It was presumptive of the scientist to suppose a plan without a sitrep first. It wasn’t as though the Ingenuity could do much of anything at present. “What exactly would those be?”

“To bring the Ingenuity to Beta Serpentis IV and retake this facility, I’d think,” Dr. Brooks replied as he glanced over at Commander Lee for consent, recognizing that technically it was her call, not his. “Borg technology isn’t to be trifled with, and the colonists seem far too acquainted with it. We can’t let it remain in their hands.”

Commander Lee nodded, but before she could add her assent, Lieutenant Commander Allen presented a roadblock: “Unfortunately, there we have a problem. If we leave orbit, they’ll kill the hostages.”

“Hostages?” Commander Lee stammered. Up until this moment, she’d been operating under the assumption that she and Dr. Brooks, trapped aboard Salvage Facility 21-J, had caught the worst of the situation. But hostages? What the hell was going on beyond the station’s walls? Was this what the two Andorians they’d eavesdropped on had been referring to?

“Yes, Admiral Reyes and the rest of her away team have been taken hostage.”

“Wait, how? By whom?”

“Administrator Thoss.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Commander Lee grumbled. She’d known there was something wrong with the gruff colonial leader. He’d been too combative about the distress call, too bristly about their visit, and had been oozing with tells that he wasn’t being completely truthful. Lieutenants Balan and Sh’vot had seen right through him. “When did this happen?”

“At 1155 hours, we received notification from the delegation that their shuttle had touched down on Beta Serpentis III,” Lieutenant Commander Allen walked through the series of events. “At 1230 hours, the signal from Beta Serpentis IV began jamming our communications, and at 1240 hours, Administrator Thoss called to inform us that he had taken the delegation hostage and that he had a list of demands.”

“What were his demands?”

“A long list of supplies,” Lieutenant Commander Allen explained. “All pretty innocuous stuff like chips, conduits and manifolds. No weapons or anything like that. Operations and Engineering are trying to figure out what they could be building with it all, but our hypothesis right now is that it may not be for the colony.” The Executive Officer nodded at his Chief Security and Tactical Officer in acknowledgement of the realization Cruz had, even if it was far more speculative than the way Allen preferred to operate.

“It may have to do with what we’ve stumbled upon here,” Dr. Brooks said as he reentered the conversation from beside Commander Lee. “Send me the list, and let me see what I can come up with.”

“Will do,” Lieutenant Commander Allen agreed as he glanced over at Ensign Seltzer, who nodded as he bussed the list across the link.

“And what are we doing to get our people back?” Commander Lee asked, still grappling with the news that Fleet Admiral Reyes and her delegation had been captured. Commander Lee knew the statistics around hostage situations. They did not typically turn out well. It took a lot of things going just right to save a hostage, while it only took the squeeze of a trigger to kill one.

“We are complying with their demands and shuttling the requested items down to the surface,” Lieutenant Commander Allen reported.

“You’re what?” snapped Dr. Brooks, completely beside himself. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and his tone left no doubt of that. “Since when do we negotiate with terrorists?!” That certainly wasn’t part of the playbook he’d grown up with. Had so much really changed in the nineties while he was incarcerated? He hoped not.

“They’re serious, Commander Brooks,” Lieutenant Commander Allen asserted fearfully. “They executed both of Lieutenant Cruz’s men. If we make a move, they’ll know, and they’ll kill the rest. Including the Fleet Admiral.”

“I don’t know you, Mister Allen,” Dr. Brooks replied aggressively, using a civilian pronoun as, given Allen’s actions, he didn’t deserve an address by rank. “But I do know Allison Reyes, and she’d die before complying with the demands of terrorists.” Especially if she didn’t know their endgame, as even apparently innocuous things could do tremendous damage.

“Well, she’s not here,” Lieutenant Commander Allen countered, caught off guard by the hostile response. He didn’t understand how Reyes’ tag-along scientist fit into the scheme of things, but he’d heard enough rumors about the ex-convict to doubt his judgment. “And that’s good for her too, because we’re going to keep her alive.” At least that was his hope.

Although the crew of the Ingenuity couldn’t see it over the audio link, Commander Lee could see the rage rushing into Dr. Brooks’ eyes. He opened his mouth to snap back, but he raised her hand to stop him. “Lieutenant Cruz, you happen to be there?”

“I am, ma’am,” replied the Chief Security and Tactical Officer dutifully.

“Have you given any thought to how you might lead an assault to get our people back?”

“Yes ma’am, but the odds aren’t very good,” Lieutenant J.G. Cruz warned. “The planet’s lanthanide-rich crust obstructs our transporter targeting systems, so we have to go by shuttle, and they’ll see us long before we can even get on the ground.” They’d almost certainly defeat the colonists, eventually, but the hostages would be long dead by then.

“Ok, so they’ll see the shuttle,” Commander Lee mused. “But what if they’re expecting to see it?”

“Ma’am?”

“Didn’t you say you’re shuttling equipment down to the surface?” Commander Lee asked. It seemed so obvious to her, but she knew that when you were in the midst of a crisis, the obvious could elude you. “What is to prevent you from sending your squad down with the next load?”

A lightbulb went on in Lieutenant J.G. Cruz’s head, but then the fear returned. “We’ll still need to hide them from organic scanners.” Otherwise, the ruse would be up.

“If you select the right supplies for your next load, you should be able to fool their sensors with the radiation,” Dr .Brooks offered, his tone now less confrontational and more focused on problem solving now that they weren’t doing something as pathetic as bowing to the demands of terrorists. “I’ll mark up the manifest with recommendations.”

“And we’ll still have to get past the colonists waiting on the ground for our shuttle… and we’ll still have to get from the LZ to the administration building without being spotted…” Lieutenant J.G. Cruz continued to rattle off his worries. “And… and…” It was still too risky. The lives of six officers hung in the balance, and he was not ready to be the reason anyone else died. Not again. Not after what the Borg signal had made him do on Frontier Day. He was already responsible for the deaths of far too many good officers.

It was a good thing they were separated by several AU of distance or else Dr. Brooks would have slapped the kid. But again, Commander Lee approached it more sensitively. She believed in the young man, and she knew how good he could be if he just got his head in the game: “Lieutenant Cruz, what was it you said to me this morning before we arrived in orbit?”

There was silence on the line. Honest to god, Lieutenant J.G. Cruz couldn’t remember. With all that had happened over the course of the day, it was hard to believe that it had been just this morning when he sat with Commander Lee in her Ready Room. Back then, Fleet Admiral Reyes was still on the ship, his men were alive, and all was good. So much had changed since then.

“You said you look up to heroes like Admiral Reyes,” Commander Lee reminded him. “That people like her and Captain Lewis are why you got into this line of work. What would Admiral Reyes do if your roles were reversed?”

He knew the answer. Admiral Reyes would never have appeased the hostages. She would have done what needed to be done. And that’s what he needed to do too. No more appeasement.

“Assemble your squad. I expect you and your team on the next shuttle,” Commander Lee ordered. “You know what to do. You trained this stuff on 314. Go get our people back.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lieutenant J.G. Cruz nodded, conviction now coursing through his voice.

“What about you, Commander?” asked Lieutenant Commander Allen, remembering that their CO was still stranded. “If I take the Ingenuity out of orbit, they’ll know we’re up to something.”

“Agreed. Hold in orbit until Lieutenant Cruz has secured the hostages,” Commander Lee ordered, her tone projecting confidence as she knew they needed to hear it, even though deep down, she was doubt was creeping back in. They might have gotten in contact with the Ingenuity, but their nightmare aboard Salvage Facility 21-J was far from over. “We’ll keep safe and call when it’s safe to do so again. Until then, godspeed to you all. Lee out.”