The chestnut brown liquid sloshed in foamy waves, rolling back and forth against the dark metal sides of the small cup as it landed on the edge of David Mitchell’s console. The impact causing a high-pitched ring to chase two errant eruptions of coffee as they made a bid to defy physics and escape the steaming mug, only to find themselves caught by the cruel grasp of the gravity generators and were drawn back downwards, coming to rest on the dark surface of the Science Officer’s console. 

“Eyma, will you please be careful.” David hissed, blotting the console with the hem of his uniform. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I know.” She sighed, lifting her own mug to her lips. “That’s why I got you the coffee, I thought your tongue might be cold.”

Satisfied the surface was now free of intrusive liquid David returned his attention to scanning the data streams, barely acknowledging the young woman looking up at him from the lower level. “Why on earth would my tongue be cold?”

“Well, you do that thing with your tongue when you’re concentrating.” In the corner of his eye, he could see as she furrowed her brow and thrust a surprisingly large section of her pink tongue forward through her red lips, teasing the young man’s unconscious habit. “You look like a Minnicick Beast from Ashingort VII.” She leant forwards, her tongue hovering above the edge of the console where the coffee had been moments earlier as she began imitating the omnivorous beast. “’Ey ‘ook for ’ugs wi’ ‘eir ong’” 

He reached out and attempted to brush her away from his work console. “I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

“’Ugs!” she announced loudly around her curled tongue. 

“I got that. I’m saying that I don’t…” He looked up from his console, pausing the data stream with his hand, to find Eyma peeking out from behind the grey beading of the console like a child playing at animals. Her slim green fingers rolled over the metallic edge like claws, one eye peeking out from her long fringe, drawn across as a mock hiding place. “That’s hardly appropriate for the bridge Eyma, don’t you have things to be doing?”

Without breaking character she pointed to the conn position, a short piece of unassuming hemp rope laid across the top line of the console. He looked back at her with a shrug. “I…”

Ending, what she considered, a masterful performance for a moment she leant on the console edge. “I’ve tied the tiller off. We’re stationary at the edge of the Badlands David… there isn’t a lot for me to do.”

“So you thought you would come bother me?” David’s hand was already reaching to resume the data feed. “When I actually do have important things to do.”

“Exactly, plus Bib keeps doing laps of the bridge and its making me nervous.” She tilted her head over the far side of the bridge where the tall Andorian was hovering over the shoulder of a young ensign at the engineering console, the fresh-faced officer looking like a hare waiting to be swept up by a waiting bird of prey as the Commander silently observed him. “He just keeps doing loops, I don’t think he’s even sat in the chair yet.” 

“Maybe he likes his chair.”

“Or maybe he’s nervous.”

“This isn’t the first time he’s been in command.” David felt himself leaping to the man’s defence, an old habit that was hard to shake. They had been through more than one ringer together and David would fight anyone who had a bad word against the Andorian, or at the very least give them a stern talking to. 

“But it is the first time the Captain’s been across the quadrant.” Eyma’s eyebrows climbed her forehead as she made her argument. Captain Tanek had taken the opportunity to visit family on Denobula whilst Helios was assigned as test platform for the visiting group from Starfleet Corps of Engineers. Since the risks associated with the mission was low, Commander Bib had been given the temporary command whilst the elder man was taking some well-earned leave. 

“He’s responsible for everything and everyone on the ship, it’s a lot to have to take on. And he wants us to do a good job, he wants to make a good impression. He wants Tanek to be proud.”

Eyma’s eyebrows swung swiftly down as her eyes narrowed, the high record of Everest remained safe, for now. “That seems very insightful.” She leant further into the young man’s console, hoping pressure would finally elicit a confession from him. The inquisative woman had a keen eye for truth telling and an unfortunate sweet tooth for gossip, being well known throughout the crew to have rooted out the truth of more than one rumour. David imagined her dressed like the private investigators in the holonovels, magnifying glass in one hand, notebook in the other, a trilby atop her head. “That seems like insider knowledge.” David subdued a squirm, pressing it down through his knees and into the deck. Eyma had recently taken an interest into the histories of several crew members who transferred from Daedalus and she remained adamant that David and Bib had ‘crossed paths’ at some point. She was right of course, both Nestus and Daedalus were small ships and Theta Squad undertook dangerous missions, it was only natural that deeper relationships had formed over time. David clenched his jaw, he refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing the truth or that every now and again, when one too many drinks had been consumed in the ships bar The Solarium, it continued. 

Out of the corner of his eye David noticed a small yellow light began flashing on Eyma’s wide console, set at the front of the bridge, quietly attempting to summon her attention. “I think someone wants you.” David pointed across the room.

“You don’t get rid of me that easily.” She reached across his console to the multifunction panel at it’s end. “Commlink from Pheobe.” A few buttons and a series of beeps indicated the channel was open. “Go ahead, this is Eyma.”

“Have you given up yet?” came the disembodied voice of Heliades flight commander. “I’m getting bored out here.”

“I’d be finding you a lot quicker if I wasn’t being interrupted.” David cast a scowl at the Orion Lieutenant. 

“It’s not looking hopeful for this new system then is it?” Somewhere far out amongst the plasma storms of the Badlands, the Trill woman sat in the cockpit of her Valkyrie class shuttle, her systems depowered waiting to be spotted by the new sensor platform currently taking up space in the ships’ battle pod.

“With respect Commander we’re still in the data gathering stage. Once we have the predictive models built it’ll be much quicker to track objects by their kinetic disruptions.”  David had resumed scrolling the data, satisfied that his grilling from Eyma was at an end. 

“That doesn’t make this bit any less boring.”

“If it helps you’re creating very useful data.” David smiled, it was useful data but he could understand the senior officers frustration. Like Eyma the pilots of Heliades squadron yearned to fly, sitting still buffeted by plasma wakes wasn’t in their nature. 

“I shall have to be content with that then Lieutenant.” Pheobe’s distant voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, “Eyma, has he sat in the chair yet?

“That’s a big old negative sir.” the young lieutenant whispered back, leaning into the console. 

“Damn. I had today in the pool.” The senior officers had a friendly bet going about when Commander Bib would finally feel comfortable to sit in the Captain’s that loomed thronelike in the centre of the bridge. “Keep me updated. I’ll… well, I’ll be here. Pheobe Out.”

“Why don’t you just bring the sensor palettes online for a look?” the impatient child was beginning to take hold of Eyma, her fingers dancing a tap number across the top of the console absentmindedly. 

“That sort of defeats the point of the experiment Eyma.” David gently chastised.

“Just a little look and then we can change things up a bit, move locations around. You don’t even have to use our sensors, just a quick dip into Hercules sensors. They must be as bored as us.” The runabout remained on station above Helios dorsal plane, keeping over watch with her own sensors whilst the ships main arrays were taken offline to facilitate the experiment. 

“They’ve got lots to do, they’re keeping an eye out for other ships, for spatial anomalies…” David was cut off as the bridge rocked violently, shaking his unwanted coffee cup from the console and onto the pale blue carpet that lined the bridge. A series of red lights that ringed the room automatically began flashing, as a klaxon alert tone began to echo throughout the corridors of the ships. 

“Report!” Bib was already standing on the bridge’s central dais, his hands clutching the back of the chair he refused to sit in. 

“Unknown spatial anomaly forming ahead. Attempting to secure link with Hercules.” David began rapidly entering commands, dismissing the scrolling data as he attempted to draw on the runabouts digital eyes only to find a confusing mess of nonsensical data filling his screen. 

Eyma rushed back to the Conn, calling up system commands in preparation to retreat. “We are being drawn towards it, Commander. Attempting to compensate with reverse thrust.”

“Signal Pheobe, call her back, emergency landings authorised.” he called across his shoulder to Oyvo at operations who responded with a nod before the deck shook again, causing red and mustard shouldered officers to stumble to the floor as the lights flickered in rapid bursts. “Helm, full reserve. Any data from Hercules?” His head turned to look at David, a mote of panic dancing deep behind his pale icy eyes. 

David didn’t look up, his fingers continue to fly across the console as he isolated wave lengths and frequencies, attempting to pull any sense from the torrent of information pouring through the runabout’s sensors. “Theres too much information for the runabouts systems to interpret, it’s some sort of gravitational anomaly, massive quantum fluctuations, neutrino flares, an unstable wormhole?”

“Reverse impulse having no effect, we are continuing to be drawn forward into the accretion disk. It’s also drawing in substantial amounts of unstable plasma from the surrounding area.” Eyma interrupted from the conn. 

“Oyvo, route all available power to engines. Get us free, even if you have to burn them out to do so. Where’s Pheobe?” 

“On return vector now.” the Xindi Operations officer called from her station at the rear of the bridge, the sound of groaning deck plates and structural members slowly becoming audible alongside the resonant hum of impulse engines through the bulkheads, forcing her to begin to shout. “Eyma, you have everything I can give.”

“Going full astern. Hang on!”

The deck jerked suddenly as the thrum of Helios’ powerful impulse engines began to drag the vessel desperately away from the anomaly. Their hot red claws digging into the fabric of space, attempting to heave the bulky cruiser from the angry maw that hung beyond bow. Everyone on the bridge held their breath. “No luck, we continue to be drawn in.”

“David, any idea what we’re in for?” Bib announced, his calm tone of leadership as much for himself as for the crew, entering the anomaly seemed inevitable. All they could do was be prepared. 

“According to this…” David’s screen went blank. “Hercules has crossed the horizon. We’re blind.”

The deck shook again and everything fell into darkness.  

“Sound off!” a voice announced across the expansive shuttle bay, echoing deep into the edgeless gloom, interrupted only by dashed stripes of the emergency illumination recessed into the deck. Glowing studs of fine amber light stretched out through the dark, creating a labyrinth of alleys and avenues that hummed with low warm energy. 

“All hands, sound off!” the voice reached out again, ricocheting off bulkheads and hull plates and consoles, disappearing into the dim light like a dozen chattering voices. A tinge of panic hung to the last consonant, compounded by the numerous echoes that chased it across the tiny tributaries of light. 

“I’m here… Astris … by… the main… console.” Oshira choked out, her voice breathy and broken, each long sound creeping with a sinister hiss of her broken respirators. The elder Barzan woman had been helping prep the next flight of shuttles for the sensor experiment, and was now huddled against the long workbench, her tools scattered across the dark deck surface. “Come… to… me.” she hissed; her throat full of serpents.

The sound of scraping boots and stumbling limbs spread across the room, several bodies, several people. 

“Keep going, sound off.” Astris instructed once more, the revelation of Oshira’s consciousness steeling her earlier twitch of panic. 

“I’m coming boss-lady, stop hurrying me.” Circe replied, her normal bravado thin, quiet grunts accentuating her footfalls as she struggled to shake off the pain that seemed to reach into her bones. “Honestly, you’re so demanding.”

“Someone has to keep you in line.” Astris shouted, the barest hint of smile twitching her lips, no doubt Circe’s intention. Tracking the candle like avenues of light she turned left and then left again, rounding the rear end of the runabout they had been working on when the world seem to shake from its axis. It stood, statue-like, moored to the deck, thankfully the magnetic constrictors had held when the gravity had shifted. Padding her way along the small craft she looked for the telltale sign on the workbench’s emergency lighting cluster. But there was nothing, the amber tram lines creating stitches across the grey deck plates. 

“I’m getting flash backs to Titan?” a fourth voice, Merope appeared from the shadows rounding the front end of the runabout, a large green streak of dried blood running down the front of her face. “Remember those navigational tests on the night side?” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I remember having to pick you up of the ice.” Astris chided, Heliades flight wing had spent several months on Titan and its sibling moons undertaking training and team building prior to deployment with Helios. One semi-official test had involved navigating the ice canyons that spidered across the surface Titan using only the blinking lights of the nav markers. Merope had spent several weeks in sickbay before flight had decided to remove it from the battery of tests. 

“I’m sorry we’re not all at one with the universe.” the young woman spit, her untamed Vulcan side creeping along her tongue. 

“It’s not about being at one…” Astris words caught in her throat as Circe emerged from the amber glow, the Bolian woman’s head sporting a nasty looking laceration as she hobbled towards the pair. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” She joked, clutching her side as she coughed, her other hand reaching out to steady herself on the runabout. “Titan?” she smiled, looking towards Astris, her big eyes pleading the other woman to continue with the habitual good-natured bickering that marked their sisterlike relationship. 

“Ashra should be over there.” Astris motioned towards a gentle glow of white light that spilled from under the stair way to shuttle bay operations, casting a glow at odds with the amber tramlines. 

Slinging her blue skinned sister’s arm over her shoulders Merope took her weight as the three of them continued onward into the deepening gloom, leaving the safety of their rest stop behind. “I’m just saying, those nav lights hadn’t been serviced in a decade, easy…”

“It should be a cluster of isolinear chips, probably five green ones and finishing with a sixth yellow one.”

“That’s quite generic, Lieutenant.” Bahir said as he pushed his torso further into the open panel, brushing aside clusters of cable in search of the bank of computing chips. 

“Maybe, but this one has a secondary bank of odn relays beneath it. The chips in that should be reversed.” Oyvo pushed her thumbs into her temples, calling on the blueprints she had committed to memory during their days in dock at DS47. “It may or may not be upside down.”

“Why would it be upside down?”

Oyvo smiled as she rubbed the pulsing pain in her head that only grew as she tried to recall the information. Bahir was a capable officer, as proven by his current role as temporary XO, but his engineering knowledge extended to his tactical systems, the idiosyncrasies of day to day engineering were often a mystery to him. Something he hoped to remedy with his after-hours sessions with the young Xindi woman “Because it sort-of fits better that way round.”

“It fits better?” Bahir’s voice echoed through the wall panels he snaked behind, the Saurian’s muscular coral body squeezed like a pancake. 

“Yeah, the mounting blocks don’t match up with…”  the throbbing in her head became sharp, racing across her brow like acidic lightning. 

“Are you okay Lieutenant?” Bahir was already beginning to reverse course to extract himself out of the nest of cabling. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She waved to the pair of legs stretching out of the open panel. “Can you see it?”

“Yes. The final chip appears to be cracked.”

“That’ll be the problem. Here.” Picking up a large yellow chip she passed it through the hole, feeling the Saurian’s cool scales touching against her fingers as they handed of the thin object.

“I am replacing it… now” Light suddenly flooded the compartment, the overhead panels chasing each other out from the small junction room and beyond the doorway onto the adjacent bridge, where several crew members let out groans as they reached up to guard their eyes from the sudden illumination. 

“It appears to have worked, Sir.” She sighed with relief, establishing what was going on would be a lot better now they could see properly. 

“I’m glad I picked the right one.” Bahir muttered as he slid himself from the small opening, uncoiling himself serpent like from the tiny space.  

“Sir?”

“Well my night vision is a bit hazy with colours.” Bahir raised the cranial ridges where eyebrows might have been as he offered a confession. “It’s a bit embarrassing really.”

Oyvo’s mouth fell open. “If you’d swapped the wrong one you might have been electrocuted.”

“That would have been quite a shock.” He stared blankly back at her with his large yellow eyes, before turning and making his way towards the doors to the bridge, grabbing a nearby cloth to remove the accumulated dirt from his hands. “Come Lieutenant, we have work to do.”

Oyvo pushed herself to her feet as the wide shoulders of the normally stoic security chief disappeared through the open doors. “Was that a joke sir?” she shouted, the pain in her head fading slightly as her hopes rose. 

Bib paused his spork a few inches from his lips, the thick tomato sauce slowly coalescing beneath a large meatball, its weight creating a bulbous drip that threatened to fall back into the almost empty tray. “Sit rep please.” He instructed the assembled staff, who looked back from the ring of chairs they had drawn into a semi-circle around the booth that was their temporary conference table in the forward lounge. 

“Would you like for us to wait until you’ve finished sir?” Bahir offered from his right side, the Saurian’s frustrated brows barely hidden behind his civility. Ever the stickler for protocol he was annoyed enough already to be undertaking a meeting in the lounge, let alone whilst the Commander shovelled food into his mouth with all the grace of a targ. 

“We’re all friends here Bahir.” Bib smiled in the coral-skinned officer’s direction, a large red streak of tomato sauce rolling down his chin. 

“Cap’n…” Ashra caught his attention, motioning to her own delicate chin. A subtle reminder not only of courtesy but also of his current role aboard the vessel. 

Suitably chastised by the experienced officer, Bib lifted a napkin to his chin and wiped away the offending sauce before continuing. “Everyone in one piece Doctor Ashra?”

“We were lucky, mostly bumps and scrapes. Oshira suffered some damage to her respirators, so I’ve isolated her to quarters where we’ve been able to make some environmental modifications thanks to Oyvo.” She nodded appreciatively towards the young Xindi woman who sat a few seats away. “Other than that, everyone aboard is back at their stations.” 

There was a knowing silence as all present waited to see how the Doctor would phrase their final statement.

“We have 1 MIA with Helena” she concluded, a cool and professional tone masking whatever worries bubbled beneath the surface. 

Bib knew the nature of Helena’s absence, despite the recall she hadn’t made it back to the safety of Helios before the transit. They continue to be unable to find her. Bib clung to the fact they hadn’t found any wreckage either. Deciding it would be of no help to dwell at this time he forged onward. “Understood. Nikashri?”

“Helios hasn’t fared quite as well. We’ve managed to reignite and modify the fusion reactors to power main systems, but we’re having trouble establishing a stable Matter Antimatter reaction.” the Kelpian engineer sighed deeply. “It means we’ve got little more than emergency power, we’re not going to run dry but anything more than the basics is a big ask.” She motioned to the Commander’s tin that now rested on the table. “Hence the field rations. Sorry, everyone.”

“Don’t apologise Commander, I’d forgotten how much I liked dehydrated meatballs.” Bib offered a comforting smile across the table, receiving a slight upturn of the engineer’s lips in return. He lifted the meat-laden spork to his mouth again, pausing just long enough to ask a question, “Any ideas about the core?”

“Gremlins.” Nikashri offered, with a slight shrug. “Oyvo and I have been looking at a couple of options but there seems to be an unusual electromagnetic polarisation to a number of the arrays. It means we can’t generate a stable reaction.” She slid a padd across the small table, several waveforms dancing the tarantella across the screen. “We suspect it’s from the high gravimetric radiation we experienced coming through the anomaly, it’s done something…” she paused, her eyes narrowing as she searched for the right word. “Hinky.”

“Hinky Gremlins?” Bahir muttered in exasperation. 

“Yes,” she replied, narrowing her eyes further towards the coral-skinned officer currently serving as XO in the absence of Captain Tanek, “Hinky Gremlins.” She returned her attention to their Andorian leader as he wiped his mouth once again, before putting the napkin in the small grey tin. “Until we get further away from the anomaly and we can discharge the components, I don’t think we’ll be getting the warp core online.”

“And how far would that be?”

“A million kilometres at least.” David leant forward, leaning one elbow on the table as he ran the other hand through his mess of dark hair. “It appears to be a subspace aperture, a pretty unstable one at that.” the young man reached forward, placing a second padd on the table, a digital diagram of the offending phenomena outlined on its screen. 

“Wormhole?” Bib asked, a tension barely perceptible in his voice. A wormhole could mean they were anywhere and that was a dangerous place to be. 

“No. I’ve taken a look back through the archives for similar phenomena.” He offered another padd onto the growing pile. “In 2376 Voyager encountered a network of subspace tunnels that connected vastly distant regions, the Turei called it Underspace.” The padd scrolled with summary information, logs from Captain Janeway and archive information. “It’s how they first met the Vaadwaur, at one time they operated throughout the network of tunnels, now the Turei are the major stakeholders. And they are extremely protective of it.”

“So it is wormholes?” Bahir asked, his reptilian tongue skimming across his thin lips as he struggled to understand. 

“Not really, a wormhole connects A to B. This connects A to B, and C, with stops at D & E.” David summoned a map to the padd’s screen. “I’d say it’s more like the Borg’s transwarp network than wormholes. It’s barely mapped, Starfleet has been trying to work with the Turei but they are reluctant to let anyone access what is a huge asset.”

“You’re sure?” Bib asked, pushing the food tin aside as he drew the map from the small stack of padds. “We were in the Badlands, could it reach that far?”

David shrugged before leaning against the side of the booth his chair was pushed up against, “Entirely possible. We know extraordinarily little about the Underspace, but all the sensor data we’ve managed to collate indicates that’s what we travelled through.”

A heavy silence hung across the makeshift conference table, the quiet chattering of crew members at not-too-distant sofas buzzing in the background, accentuating the question that now lay on everyone’s lips. 

“Does that sensor data include where we’ve travelled to?” Bib whispered, suddenly acutely aware of their possible spectators. 

“At the moment?” David clenched his jaw, his tone becoming similarly muted, “No. Main sensor arrays are suffering a similar issue to the warp core.” He stood, reaching across the table to open another page on the padd in front of Bib. “The main sensor palettes were offline for the test. We’re struggling to bring them back online as key components are hinky.” He leant back against the booth, aware that the tone of the meeting had quickly plumetted thanks to his update. “We’ve managed to gain some passive data, enough to establish a direction away from the anomaly and towards a nearby planetoid, but we are pretty blind.”

“Literally.” Ashra motioned to the darkened windows that lined the rectangular room, normally they offered a wide vista of the space ahead of the ship, today they were offered a view of only a black void. 

“The ship is being bombarded with elevated levels of UV radiation, we suspect from an overactive star but we can’t be sure. With deflectors barely working the black out windows are a safety precaution.” Oyvo answered, “Once we get some more power to deflectors we should be able to remove it.”

“And that’ll complicate repairs if…” Nikashri began.

“…when…” Bib corrected.

“… when we get away from the anomaly. We’ll probably need some EVA or at the very least some workbee operations which are dangerous under all the radiation.” Nikashri finished, her signature smile barely hanging on. 

“You said there was a planetoid?” Bahir asked, his long-clawed fingers drawing the padd across the table towards him. 

“Yes. We can’t see much but we can see the sensor shadow.” David sighed from the corner. 

“Perhaps we can utilise that.” Bahir’s attention was laser on the grey surface of the table between the padd and the Commander’s discarded food tin. He pulled the two around each other, his mind simulating imaginary stellar cartography with the tactician’s skill. “If we place the planetoid between us and the source of the star then it may provide us with the protection we need to make repairs.” He drew the tin around the padd as an example of his proposal. “We would be sheltered in the shadow.”

“I’m hesitant to start flying through space with little to no sensors.” Bib furrowed his brow. 

“We can help there.” Astris spoke up for the first time, the older human woman holding the seat normally occupied by the Heliades Flight Commander. “The Valkyries seem to be operating. I suspect the extra shielding and their storage location at the centre of the ship may have protected them. We can fly a recon ahead of Helios and relay sensor data.” Astris held her breath, her thought unfinished. “It would also allow us to mount a search and rescue for Helena.” Despite being a veteran of several decades worth of space travel both in and out of Starfleet, her voice quivered with worry, the women of the ship’s elite flight squadron were a close sisterhood. 

“Is it safe?” Bib looked to the assembled group for any objections. The silence was interrupted by some shrugs and wide eyes but no one outright objected. “Very well, make suitable preparation, we’ll move when everyone is ready.” A chorus of ayes spread across the table as the senior staff returned their chairs to their customary homes throughout the lounge. “Don’t forget your padds!” Bib called after the group as they trailed off through the doors. Sighing he began to collect the devices and his empty food tin for recycling. 

“You know this would have been easier in the conference room.” The velvet tones of Doctor Ashra hovered in the booth, her insightful eyes perceiving all. 

“I was working in Engineering with Oyvo, I needed to eat. It made the most sense.” Bib replied, busying himself with the food tin, unable to meet her eyes and sell the lie. 

“We both know that’s only part of the truth.” the Deltan woman rose and pushed her seat under the table. “What is it you’re scared of?”

Bib’s breath caught in his throat, it was a question he had asked himself more than once in the last few days since Captain Tanek departed for his leave. “The Captain…” It had been a simple assignment, ‘don’t drop her’ he had joked as the transporter beam took him. Yet here they were, gods knew where with a broken ship and missing crew.

“The Captain…” Ashra leant across the table taking the man’s face in her hands and lifting it to meet her warm and comforting face. “Is you Biban Th’erhilnon.” She smiled, a vision of maternal belief and blind faith. “Be the Captain.”

He nodded, her slender hands alleviating a surprising portion of his weighty responsibility. 

“Sit in the chair Bib.” she squeezed his cheeks and left him alone. Captain of a blind ship on distant shores.  

The sand is warm as it squeezes between my toes, each grain a tiny silicon cell of heat creating a golden hot plate that stretches off into the distance as far as the eye can see, east and west. Baked in the afternoon sun, it hums with a pleasurable warmth, the temperature barely tolerable as I’m cooled by the salty air wafting from the purple-hued sea, its cresting waves thundering quietly a few metres away. It is calm, I am happy. 

“Janza!” I hear my wife call from the safety of her awning near the dunes “Don’t let yourself get burnt!” I wave to acknowledge that I heard her, enough to allay her concerns. We both know I will be whining tomorrow as she reaches for the ointments and lotions, my pink shoulders glowing angrily. She cradles her round belly as she waves, mother of my first child. She smiles. I smile. My symbiote smiles. We three smile together. 

It is the first of many memories we will share, the first joining of this new symbiote’s millennia-long life. 

The sun is hanging low over the horizon, the tendrils of yellow light melting into oranges and reds as they reach across the cosmos uninterrupted, only to be twisted at the final moments by invisible manipulators that hang in the planet’s atmosphere. The purple waves melt into the distance, disappearing into the void of the amber horizon, now pinpricked with the brightest of our nearest stars. A surreal twilight when time becomes a meaningless word, there is only now, only the pleasant warmth of the sand and the smile on my lover’s lips. 

Trill is peaceful, Trill is calm, I could live in this moment forever. 

I hear the screaming, a blood-curdling screech that cracks my teeth and melts my dreams. The pleasurable orange glow of the sun is replaced by the vicious twitching neon of a rapidly spreading inferno as I turn to look back to the cabana. I lift my feet to run but the ground is sharp and my feet are heavy with the day’s activities. I stumble, but push forward, the heat growing on my face. It laughs at me, cruel and wicked. It pushes me back, planting its great fist into the centre of my chest, ‘try harder’ I hear it taunt. 

I cannot reach her, she is lost within the flames that buffet me like panicked bulls, racing from the rising inferno, forcing me back. She is alone, out of reach.  

I will live forever in that moment.

I saw the transit, the moment that we were dragged through the chomping maw of the ambushing portal, its toothy grin cracking across the orange backdrop of the Badlands. It raced across the thin boundary of space and subspace, a hair width at first, twisting the eye like rising heat, distorting the angry clouds of plasma that inhabited the region like heat rising from the cooked tarmac. Through the hazy ribbons of gravimetric distortion I can see Helios, her oval hull dotted with points of light as my crewmates go about their day, eating dinner, running diagnostics, and calibrating relays. Why has no one noticed the barely hidden threat, looming large in front of their nose? Then I remembered that the sensors were offline for the test. Everyone aboard was blissfully unaware of the predator that floats in front of their face. 

It hovers, sipping in a long breath before it springs its trap. I have a moment to catch it off guard, to warn Helios of the danger. I reach for the comm button. I have never known a subspace anomaly to be psychic but it bursts open at the thought, unfurling petals a mile wide that spark and dance with energetic discharges, lighting up the already violent orange sky. 

“Pheobe, emergency recall. Emer…” Oyvo is cut off, her voice silenced by a screech of interference across the channel. I heard enough and with a press of my feet to engage the throttle we are racing full speed towards home, taking the smallest arc possible around the blossoming subspace aperture, its head thrown back revealing a cackling maw. Beyond it is madness, all dancing shadows and sprinting silhouettes. Down its gullet lies a yellow river made of plasma, slipping across its electrified lips, lapped up by an invisible tongue formed of gravimetric sheers and electromagnetic eddies; it drinks in plasma from the surrounding storms, supping destruction as if it were water. 

My knuckles are white as I grip the controls, pressing with all my might into the shuttle forward aspect, my will pushing even harder against the cockpit’s window. 

Foward. Forward. 

But I am stuck, the promise of safety ahead of me, the shape of Helios suspended alongside me, the cackling portal behind. I fear I might be trapped in amber for an eternity. 

I choke back the blood wine, the burning sensation spreading down my throat like acid, etching a valley into my oesophagus with its bitter tang. It is my turn as an honoured guest to make the toast. They’re watching, I cannot flinch. I raise the tankard as high as my short arms allow, barely lifting it above the heads of the assembled Klingon Bekk’s in the dining room, its grey rim barely peeking over their creased foreheads and gigantic quaffed hair. I am suddenly aware of the number of eyes upon me, leering across shoulders, peering through gaps in dark manes of hair and gazing from shadowed doorways, as the silence falls on the room. 

I can hear the symbiote in the back of my head, ‘nothing fancy’ it urges. It rarely speaks, content to watch and learn, to collect memories for its future. I am only a second host, its wisdom is limited. For now, it speaks with my own voice, tinny as it bounces off my brainpan. I pray to anyone who is listening that I do not sound so weak out loud. 

The heat in the room is almost overwhelming, combined with the smell of a hundred men crammed between the bulkheads, all moisture is chased from my leaden tongue, even the acidic blood wine cannot dampen my mouth. I am doubly warm under the gaze of the crew, their focus bathing me in expectant gazes as their tongues slip across their lips awaiting the next opportunity to drink. The men and women of the warship Ch’Tang have been my comrades and friends for 6 months of war now, why do I fear speaking to them? 

‘Because it matters, they matter’ the symbiote answers, its tinny mimicry more knowledgeable than my own mind. 

I swallow once more, attempting to irrigate the channels of my desert mouth. 

“ nltebHa’ ” I cry, thrusting the tankard a few inches higher, feeling my arm stretch beyond its reach. 

There is silence. A gulping breath of an endless moment. Then there is a cacophony.

Cries and shouts pour into the empty air, guttural roars flexing the bulkheads of the dining room, one hand smacks my back in comradeship, another pours more battery acid wine from a jug into my empty tankard, a third shakes my shoulders in pride, still more wait to congratulate the simplicity of my toast. 

I wasn’t to know in a few weeks all those cheering voices would be gone save my own, recalled to a Starfleet ship before the final push. I wasn’t to know that they would repeat my toast through the corridors as they charged into the mouth of the Dominion above Cardassia Prime. 

Together.

My head rings and aches, if I didn’t know better I would swear I had spent the night emptying blood wine barrels. The sensation is only reinforced by the feeling of warm blood rolling down my cheeks from a sizeable laceration on my left temple, I can see the mark where I hit the canopy support, a flat oval of red on the metal where my head must have rested for a time. My helmet remains nestled in the small cubby behind my headrest, quickly forgotten in my hurry to reach the safety of Helios. I chide myself for ignoring regulations in the first place, they exist for a reason. Beyond the transparent canopy, its integrity mercifully still intact, I can see the hulking shadows of jagged objects, blocking out the sun and stars that lie far off in my hazy concussed vision. It looks metallic, my heart stops. Debris?

‘You are awake.’ I feel the symbiote stir in the back of my belly, at least it was safe. I quickly examine the flickering screen set into the nearby panel, minimal batteries, and basic life support. I too am, in the most basic sense, safe. 

‘Do you remember what happened?’ I ask to the empty cockpit, pressing my temple with the hem of my flight suit to stem the flow of blood. ‘I… might have blacked out.’

‘Yes.’ It whispered with dual voices, the juxtaposed cadences both sounding tired.

Satisfied the blood flow has been suitably staunched I turn my attention to the blackened consoles, there must be something more than air and heat. ‘Are you going to let me in on it?’ The symbiote rarely speaks and when it decides to offer its youthful wisdom, I often found it useful to keep a large jar of salt handy.

‘We saw the stars engulfed by an insatiable maw. What started as a slender wound, finer than any scalpel stroke in the fabric of space, spread open and swallowed us whole, along with our family and the deathly poison of the badlands.’ I can feel the panic in the symbiote rising, it turns my stomach as it twists with my own increasing concern, the screens remain black and the power plant appears completely offline. 

‘Continue.’ I whisper. Talking distracts it, allowing my mind to continue working on the problem at hand. Symbiosis is a union but at times I feel like a caretaker rather than a collaborator. I knew I should’ve waited for an older symbiote. ‘What did you see next?’ 

‘A rolling sea of subspace, shades of brown and black, of light and dark, racing past the window as we bounced through the rapids of a corridor. We saw Helios drifting away, sliding back down the river, slowed by its own wake in the current. We saw you beat the walls in frustration. We heard you cry for help.’ I vaguely remember that, seeing Helios slip away, taking with it our best chance of survival. 

‘We watched other beings pass by us as we floated in the stream, dancing shoals of tiny tan minnows and great whales of green and blue light, swimming along the currents of invisible energy, tinged orange with the plasma storms of our origin.” I beat the panel with my fist, as cold and useless as the rest of the dead shuttlecraft. ’We watched as the new sky twisted and turned, as we bounced and skipped like a stone carried on the undertow, scooped up and cast into an endless secret river. We watched your eyes close as gravity took its toll on your body and then we saw darkness.’ 

With no hope of power and only a few hours of usable air left, a distress call was the next option. I began reaching beneath my chair, my hands grabbing blindly for the emergency pack where two short-range distress beacons should lie. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

‘Why?’ the voices whispered. 

‘It must have been scary.’ 

‘It was wonderful, we glimpsed a mystery of the universe. We shall treasure it forever Helena.’ I can feel it smiling. I’m glad someone is. 

‘Well, you better hope that one of your minnows finds us rather than a whale, or worse a shark.’ I twist the beacon, activating its long-life battery pack. ‘Ideally Helios.’ It continues to be dark beyond the cockpit windows, the shade of the nearby debris blocking out much of the sun and starlight as it rolls slowly in the airless void. I quietly pray it won’t turn to reveal familiar numbers and letters. ‘Until then, I’ll see if I can get some more juice.’

‘Would you like a distraction whilst you work?’ the symbiote asks. Had it heard my earlier comment? 

‘Always.’ I lift the emergency batteries from the pack and begin pulling sets of ODN relays from the forward console. 

A singular voice rose from the pair that hovered perpetually at the back of my mind, Janza. ‘My wife loved to travel, I preferred to stay home…’

“Marco… Marco…” Circe whispered beneath her breath, dipping the nose of her Valkyrie beneath a large portion of metallic debris. The remnant of an unknown interstellar starship spun idly on the solar winds, its once tan hull now bleached a pale yellow by the continuous bombardment of high energy UV radiation from the distant white-hot sun. With an expert flick of the wrist on the controls, Crice twisted the nimble craft into a turn, slipping round and returning away from the large hull piece that marked the nav point in her latest search block. “You’re meant to say ‘polo’ boss lady”.” 

“The comms are open Circe.” Merope chided, her frustrations barely concealed beneath her thick southern drawl. 

“Isn’t that S&R protocol?” Circe replied, sending a small cluster of debris floating away with her manoeuvring thrusters as she brought herself onto the return pattern vector. 

“Then you should probably shut up.” The half-Vulcan’s tone is thick with frustration and desperation. 

“It helps me work Merope, just because you’re in a mood.”

“Pheobe is missing…” Merope began to speak, her anger, however misplaced, pouring across the comms.

“We’ll find her.” Circe insisted, cutting the other officer off as she sent her shuttle into a wide roll to avoid colliding with the remnants of an engine block that now drifted in space, distant stars barely visible through the large holes reaching through its metallic frame. “Then we’ll all go back to Helios for a drink.”

“Don’t be such a stupid cow Circe,” venom sprayed from the comm link. “They’re not expecting to find her a-”

“-Enough. Both of you.” the elder voice of Astris interrupted. “Need I remind you everyone can hear you?” There was silence on the comm link, icy waves of nothing echoing across the debris field from the two young officers. “As I thought. Anyok any update?”

Aboard the runabout Pollux, hovering at the edge of the debris field, sheltering from the overwhelming solar radiation behind a large nacelle unit, Lieutenant Commander Anyok reached over with a clawed finger and joined the conversation. “The debris is continuing to shift, we estimate you have investigated less than 2 percent of the search area.”

“Nowhere near enough,” Merope responded, filling the airwaves with a heavy sigh. “Time is running out.” she muttered, vocalising a shared but unaddressed concern. 

“Is there any way we can narrow it down?” Merope pushed past the young woman’s doomsaying, whilst their search and rescue mission might now be turning into search and retrieve she wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet. 

“We are already operating a narrower search area based on momentum within the field and expected deployment from the aperture.” From the cockpit of the runabout, Anyok could see the mercifully closed mouth of the Underspace aperture, electricity dancing across the thin white line that hung bodyless in space. 

“This would be a lot quicker with Helios.” Circe whined. 

“Unfortunately, that is not an option Lieutenant.” A blinking red light on the runabout console interrupted the Aurelian officer. “Standby, we are being hailed. Khal will remain on the line to provide you with your next search vectors.” With a nod to the heavy-browed Romulan Intel officer across the cockpit Anyok stood from her console and crossed the rear wall, activating the external commlink.

“I’m glad to see your face Anyok.” the grease-covered visage of Helios‘ XO turned temporary captain, Commander Bib appeared on the screen. He rubbed his face with a cloth, adding it to the pile of towels on the top of the ready-room desk, their patchwork of grey and black marks forming an uncomfortable Rorschach test in the corner of the screen. 

“And I yours Captain. I trust this is a good sign?”. If full comms were back online then perhaps sensor systems weren’t far behind.

“A small one,” a crease of static dashed across the screen, cutting the Andorian’s face in half. “The solar interference is still playing havoc with systems but now we’re in the shade of the planet Nikashri and her teams are able to get on with the sensor palettes.” 

“Do we have an ETA?” 

Bib shook his head. “Even hidden in the shadow EVAs are limited to 1 hour, even in the worker bees.” He twisted the cloth in his hand around a particularly dirty antenna. “We’ve done everything we can internally. Now we just have to take our time making repairs.”

“We are lucky then that there doesn’t appear to be anyone else around.” Anyok pressed a button, sharing the runabouts collated sensor data. “Our initial scans show no other vessels in the system though we are quite blinded by the sun.”

“And the aperture?”

“Silent since our arrival.” Anyok chattered her beak, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. “I am concerned however, by both the amount and variety of debris at the mouth of the Underspace portal.” She summoned another set of scan data, small schematics beginning to cycle in the corner of the screen. “There is a great deal of debris we cannot identify but…” her beak chattered again as she picked a particular schematic from the list, her nervousness growing “… these larger segments are consistent with archive data for Vidiian ships.” She cast an eye back to the Romulan officer in the cockpit, she had no doubt he was passively eavesdropping as any good intel officer would. 

Bib’s face fell flat, his normally cheery demeanour that endeared him to many of the crew slipping away. 

“Though not a 100% match to the metallurgy on file, its structure and design is inline with records. And then there’s this.” Her beak chittered again as she called up a visual scan of one of the largest nearby hull fragments, on its bleached surface a clear diamond design formed of once golden geometric weaves, each one finishing with a cruel-looking dagger point. Anyok shuddered slightly, she had seen more welcoming things in a Klingon armoury. 

Bib rubbed his brow, his face noticeably weary. “So Delta quadrant then.”

“Not necessarily, we know the Underspace extends a significant distance, perhaps we are not as far as we fear.” Anyok offered, barely believing her own statement. “There isn’t any sign of other known polities amongst the wreckage.”

“Any sign of Helena amongst it all?” Bib looked as though he might accidentally put a thumb through his skull as he rubbed his forehead, pushing away the tension desperately. 

Anyok shook her head, her long feathers rustling slightly. 

“Well, you’re clock is up I’m afraid. Doctor Ashra has advised we need to call you back before Heliades solar exposure levels become too high.” 

“Will we return?” Anyok suspected she knew the answer, her back twitched, a phantom feeling from her long-absent wings, another old tick of her nerves. 

“Honest answer?” Bib’s jaw was set hard as he chewed on his responsibility. 

“I have never expected anything else in all our years of friendship.”

“Not immediately, we don’t have the facilities to undertake a full search and rescue in unknown and possibly hostile territory at the moment.” The weight of his temporary command pushed down on the man’s shoulders, allowing his old friend to glimpse past his confident facade. “I have 500 other people to think about now too. We don’t even know…”

“Sorry to interrupt sirs, but Merope has found something,” Khal called from the cockpit his tone indecipherable. 

With a press of a button Bib’s face was transferred to the small screen located in the runabout’s bulkhead as Anyok crossed to join the Romulan man at the controls. “Good or bad?”  

Khal responded with silence, pointing to the central display panel between the shared consoles. On it a live feed from Merope showed a cluster of debris, its familiar grey tone sending a shiver up the spines of all present. As the nearby thin strip of hull swung around, a series of large black letters were brought into the bright searchlights of Merope’s Valkyrie. 

‘N.C.C. 63284’ A  silence hung across the cluster of small ships as they floated in the debris field, endless and empty, as each person found themselves painfully alone in their shared grief. 

“Do what you need to do, Lieutenant Commander. Bring her home. Helios out.” Bib signed off, his instructions clear, unable to bring himself to say anything more.

“I’ll clear space in the aft.” Anyok stood from her console, her beak grinding against itself as her eyes began filling with tears. “Khal, please set a course to Merope’s location.” She stopped at the doorway, turning back to the broad-shouldered man, damp marks beginning to show across his scarred face.  “And close the channel, let’s give those ladies some privacy.”

Across the comm links the barely perceptible hiss of the continually open comm channel ended and the crying began.  

The water barely moved this far from the large continent-spanning estuary, algae covered pools of cloudy liquid gathered around the base of the tall rust-coloured reeds; the placed mirror surface reflecting the distant glimmers of pinprick lights billions of miles in a sickly reflection of the night sky. Beneath the shelter of the thick green plant life small fish darted through the marshes, their scales shimmering with tiny flashes of starlight as they mindlessly jumped between the familiar gnarled roots, grabbing broken morsels of vegetation in their chattering mouths as they danced around the large listless forms of the slowly grazing fish. The peaceful scene was suddenly shattered by the sound of a deep splash and crack of metal as a giant blue fist hauled a cage up from the water. 

“Got it!” Mitig cried, lifting the fat fish to his eye level. It wiggled lazily, its large gills flapping in a moment of fear before its dumb glassy eyes forgot its previous life and it began swimming lazy circles contentedly in the metal box.

“Let me see.” Najaal lept from the nearby boulder she had been using as an observation post, her slender crane-like legs barely piercing the water with barely a splash. “That’s a big one, brother!” she smiled, patting him on the back. “That’ll make for a good dinner.” Her mouth was already watering at the thought of mother’s special blend of spices, passed down in whisper and repetition from mother to daughter. One day it would be her turn to know the makings of what was widely regarded to be the best fish dish in Fivetides. 

Mitig clutched the metal box close to his barrel chest, despite his young age the boy was quickly gaining a man’s body and his gigantic arms held the water-filled box with ease. “No Najaal, you can’t!” He wrestled with the high-pitched voice of prepubescence, he took a deep breath, attempting to push his voice down into the muddy swamp that surrounded his bootless feet. “You can’t take this one.” he finished with a more confident tone. 

“That would feed the whole family, we’d have a feast. Mother could make those roast bessels” The woman alighted next to him, peering over his shoulder like a gannet, salivating. The large fish continued its mindless loop, bumping into the simple metal walls before it turned again, knocking its flat face into the opposite wall as it continued its aimless circuit. 

“I don’t want bessels.” Mitigs slumped bodily into a pout, his lips dropping to make friends with his barrel chest, his face disappearing into the wirey brushes of hair gifted to him by his Kazon ancestry.  

Najaal threw her head back in a cackle of laughter that echoed through the perpetual twilight, shaking the bushes and causing several winged denizens to take flight. “I know that’s a lie.” She slapped the young boy on the shoulder, “You’ve never refused a bessel, especially from dear old mommy.” She twisted her face mockingly. “Oh mommy, these are the best…. mommy please can I have…”

A deep rumble interrupted her teasing as the placid water began jittering with sonic vibrations, the glassy surface of the swamp now undulating with sharp peaks and troughs. The rumble, barely audible to the pair’s young ears, shook through the muddy ground sending what beasts remained scattering, silver-scaled fish and hidden predators alike. 

“What is that?” Mitig asked, turning his head to and fro to isolate the sound. “It’s everywhere.” 

Najaal took a step in front of the young boy, her thin frame unfurling to full height over the dumpy muscled boy, her eyes now lifted above the 6-foot-tall reeds and brushes. Spinning her head slowly across the horizon, she scanned the murky surroundings in the stilted moonlight. “I don’t see anything… maybe a quake…” A spark of light erupted into the sky, an orange rocket ascending impossibly fast, a trail of yellow and red flowers erupting in its tail, propelling it in a wide arc towards the river. In a breathless instant, the sky erupted with light as a miniature star briefly screeched into existence, illuminating the marshland for miles around. The two teens recoiled at the sudden light, their eyes long since adapted to the perpetual gloom they spent their days in. Mitig cried out in fear, raising an arm to shield his face, barely keeping hold of the silver fish in its case, which now thrashed wildly at the unfamiliar wave of heat and light. 

An eternity of blinding light and bone warming heat blazed across the vast city scale marshland. In distant villages eyes turned upwards from millstones and looms to witness the brief new star; from orbit mechanical eyes registered the multi-isoton explosion for what it was, sending warning klaxons through the halls of the planet’s unseen surveyor.

As stillness began to return to the cloudy marsh as Mitig lowered his forearm, the silver scaled pet returned to it’s calm loop, unaware the danger had simply taken a rest. Mitig rubbed his eyes, the dancing light worms swimming in his sight. “Najaal, we should go back home and tell father…” But Najaal was already racing towards the source of the rocket, her long legs carrying her over the shallow marshes with ease, her excitement a tailwind pushing her towards the glowing shape not far off. 

“Bahir?”

“We have detected an explosion in low orbit of the planet, initial data suggests it is a photonic explosion in the 15 isoton region,” Bahir announced, rising from the XO’s chair to meet the Andorian emerging from the turbolift.  

“Hostiles?” Bib’s antenna rose defensively. 

“CAP reports nothing in the area, runabout Pollux is repositioning for a better view of the surface region,” Bahir answered, returning to his customary position at tactical with an unreleased sigh, by rights he could remain in the XO seat but now was not the time to push protocol. 

“Oyvo, bring up the feed.” Bib stood at the front of the bridge’s raised command podium as the forward bulkhead rippled, presenting a live feed from the runabout’s bow camera as it skimmed the planetoid’s dark atmosphere. “We’re still relying on the perimeter ships?” Bib barely turned to David at the science station. 

“We’re in the process of bringing the primary arrays online but we’re only just through the initial testing of the repairs.” David offered with an apologetic expression. 

“So…?” Bib’s question hung in the air disappointedly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Pollux is in position”. Lieutenant K’Sal announced from the large oversight table at the rear of the bridge. “I am deploying additional assets to increase perimeter.” The tall Bajoran lifted several small craft from the holographic basket, the placement of their small models relative to the table’s surface map translated to instructions for the pilots departing the ship’s expansive shuttle bay.  

Everyone held their breath, watching the fine swirling clouds on the surface of the planet bubble with the ripples of the first detonation. All eyes keenly searching for any sign of a second object.  

“There!” Oyvo pointed with an outstretched arm, moments before an orange explosion erupted again amongst the grey clouds, flaring outward across a large area of marshland before fading away again. The dull green of the planet’s surface now barely visible through the cloudless portal, the thin grey clouds having been pushed away by the kinetic force of the detonation.  

“Another explosion, Pollux‘s sensors indicate it to be at least 10 isotons.” Bahir announced, his fingers jabbing at the console sharply as he tried to interpret the runabout’s limited data. “I am confident that we are seeing the detonation of photonic torpedoes.” 

“What is launching them?” Bib strode across the bridge to the curving science console where David sat. “Anything?” he implored quietly.

David shook his head. “Nikashri is mid-diagnostic, it’ll be at least 20 minutes before we can reconnect the primary arrays and get any readings.” 

“I believe that is the source of the launches.” Bahir nodded to the screen which now narrowed its focus to a grainy shot of a gigantic brown craft reaching up a hundred meters from the surrounding marshland. As the bridge watched, a spark of light raced out from the beak-like nose of the crashed ship, surging upward before exploding in an other brief lightshow. 

“Lifesigns?” Bib returned to the bridge’s centre. “Identity?” It didn’t look like any ship he was familiar with, though it was hardly in its usual setting. 

The silence that answered his question was a deafening sign of their communal lack of information. 

“Is Anyok back?” Bib asked, his eyes narrowing to try and pick out defining characteristics of the crashed ship. 

“They landed 10 minutes ago.” The Theta Squad chief had only just returned from their sadly failed search and rescue operation for Helena. 

“Have her prep a team to go down and investigate and stop the launches.” Bib looked back towards Bahir at his tactical console, his eyes searching for a second opinion. “Perhaps it’s a sign of life? Albeit a bit of a hostile one.” The Saurian slowly nodded his agreement. “David, as soon as sensors are online get as much information as you can.”

“I’ll ask Nikashri to hurry it up.” 

Bib took a few steps towards the coral-skinned officer, lowering his tone in consultation, “That’s a pretty aggressive way to say hello” he whispered under his breath. 

“Or perhaps the message is to stay away?” Bahir replied, his tone similarly hushed. 

“Let’s hope it’s just an accident. We’re awfully blind to have planetary artillery being fired at us.”

The two men share a concerned nod as a third orange explosion blossoms into life on the screen, a brief new light source in the perpetual twilight.  

“I know you said it was wet.” Ole lifted his foot, revealing a deep footprint in the green sludge. As he watched a sickly coloured liquid raced into the newly formed divot, quickly turning the water-logged ground into a goopy mess that flattened swiftly, leaving no remains of Ole’s presence. “But this is a lot.”

“Is Bolarus not an oceanic planet? I thought you might be at home.” Khal offered a raised eyebrow, the Romulan officer’s face mysterious as ever. 

“Yeah, but crystal blue oceans and brilliant topaz seas.” Ole put his boot down again, a disquieting gurgle and popping of air bubbles slinking from the ground as his boot sank almost to the ankle. “Either way, I had enough of Bolarus and went out working on asteroids, no damp there.”

“Ice miners would beg to differ.” Khal joked cooly, returning his attention to scanning the reed-filled horizon, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to discern any movement in the perpetual twilight. 

Ole eyed the tall bulk of the man, the exchange officer had been aboard a few months and had been slow to integrate himself with the crew. The two giants had found common ground in the practice ring, a lonely Romulan and an abandoned Bolian. Who knew a friendship was in the cards? “Was that your attempt at a joke?”

“Perhaps.”

Ole shook his head, “That was bad and you should feel bad about it.” He placed a large hand on the man’s shoulder, “The ice is frozen.”

“Not if it sticks to your boots.” Khal looked downward at the security officer’s gigantic feet, submerged in the dark mud of the marsh’s river banks. “Chief Ranulka will not be happy if you leave footprints on his transporter pad.”

“Well she’ll be mad at the both of us won’t she?” Ole clapped the man’s back as he waded slowly across the small clearing before the crashed ship’s airlock door. 

“I don’t foresee any situation where Chief Ranulka would be angry at me,” Khal said confidently. “She…” He turned his focus back to the jagged line of reeds several hundred yards away, purposely avoiding Ole’s face, “…likes me.”

A wide smile spread across Ole’s face. “I knew I felt something when we beamed down!” He giggled like a schoolboy. “Did the date go well?”

“Very.”

As Ole began his line of questioning, a puppy smile creeping into the corner of the hulking Romulan’s face, both men missed the slight shudder of the nearby reeds as a figure padded silently through the undergrowth and into a slight crack in the crashed ship’s hull. 

Bahir wiped away the newly fallen dust from the console he worked at as the launch of another torpedo shuddered the rickety frame of the crashed vessel. Moments later a distant explosion in low orbit caused the wreck to shake again, sprinkling another snowfall of grey onto the man’s console. “How many torpedoes does this thing have?”

“1 less.” Anyok joked, her beak clacking happily at her own joke as she rubbed her ears with her long fingers. 

“The noise is problematic?” Bahir asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“The noise is.. frustrating, the mechanism emits a particularly high-pitched tone I am sensitive too.” Anyok motioned to the console, returning the conversation to the mission at hand, she would not let a screeching piece of machinery distract her. “This coding interface is unfamiliar, I’m running it through Helios’ database but things are organised very oddly.”

“It is the same here, I think I’ve found the weapons systems but controls at every stage are heavily restricted by passcodes and ranks.” Bahir jabbed blindly at the screen once more, eliciting a message that he had come to learn meant failure.

“A particularly authoritarian species most likely, rigid and militaristic.” A ping sprung from the tricorder that sat above the console. “A match, we can start translating.” She lifted the small grey computer from the shelf and hovered it over the panel, familiar letters appearing on the holographic overlay as the orbiting ship began translating the geometric columns of the interface. “The Devore Imperium, not a race I am familiar with.”

“Nor I.” Bahir mused, his own tricorder now churning out translations of the weapons console. 

She pressed a few buttons on the tricorder, summoning contextual information from the database. “Voyager encountered them about mid-way through their journey. Totalitarian, Xenophobic, an almost pathological fear of telepaths.” 

Bahir’s scaley eyebrows furrowed as he mentally connected two dots, he quickly submitted an enquiry to the database as the next set of unfamiliar glyphs were being processed. The tricorder answered with a ping. “Vidiian wreckage at the anomaly, Devore wreckage on this planet. These species are not particularly close to each other, nor do we have any information they were ever familiar with the underspace system, yet we have found evidence of both in this system.”

“We have no idea how far the underspace network reaches, they could have stumbled here just like us.” Anyok entered a series of commands into the translated panel, a pulsar map unfurling on the screen. “I believe I have located their navigational logs, I am uploading them to Helios.

Bahir conceded with a sigh. “Hopefully How can follow it back.” Helios’ resident astrometric scientist had been in self imposed lockdown in the stellar cartography lab since their arrival in the unknown system, attempting to piece together the long-range sensor data collated from shuttles and runabouts. 

“They will have a better chance if Nikashri and Mitchell can get the sensor arrays back online.” Anyok felt for her colleagues high in orbit, last reports before they departed for the planet’s surface suggested the work was slow going, the damage being more significant than expected. A low whine from the nearby torpedo systems flooded the darkly lit compartment. “Another torpedo is being primed,” Anyok announced.

“I believe I have…” Bahir entered a final set of commands “…solved it.” the whining ceased abruptly, the corridors turning dark and lifeless save for the two security officers and their small worklights. “I have disconnected the loading system. The launch bays continue to try and fire but the armoury believes it has expended its ammunition.”

“Well done Commander, my ears are grateful.” Anyok’s beak clattered happily again as the two officers enjoyed a refreshing moment of silence. 

Then the gangly figure of Najaal fell through the ceiling with a crash. 

The two men look like mountains, their shoulders sit higher than Uncle Tos and he has to stoop to get in the door when he comes to visit. Mother tells him to ‘watch his head’ but it never helps, we always laugh as he knocks his big rusty forehead on the lintel before stooping so low he could smell the earthworms. Tos always pretends he’s inspecting the floor for dirt. ‘You’ll not find a mark upon my floor chucka’. The little one she calls him, and we laugh. It has become a ritual of sorts, much like everything else we do. Everyone tells me I favour my father’s blood in my stature, all his kin were tall apparently. ‘Giants’ my mother muses over the pestle, smiling when she speaks of them, ‘of both heart and body.’ She told me it had been a whirlwind romance, that he had charmed her with tulkik roots carved in her likeness and giant comanch fish, their golden scales wrestled at the delta’s end where the snaking green river becomes the unspeakably vast blue ocean. Rumour was that he had presented my grandsire with a chest full of Talaxian silks and Hirogen blades scavenged from the marshes, cloth to dress his daughter and blades to guard her, a fine dowry for a Maje’s daughter. Of all my forebears only Tos remains in the village now, the others taken back to the sloppy ground or lifted to the search, leaping between shadows of the screeching sun.

The nearest one is looking in my direction, I freeze to stone, but his eye wanders onwards. He is the most like me but with mottled grey skin like the idle moon that rolls in the sky. And silky black hair swept back on his head over pointed ears. Strange. But I see a familiarity in his heavy brow and lurking in the secret pools behind his eyes, I have seen it barely held in the visage of my uncle and I glimpsed in my father on the day he departed for the search. Anger. Violence. 

The other one is even stranger, his skin as blue as the beetles that crawl on the banks, rich and deep as the ocean, he looks at any moment like he might melt away into the water itself and slip out to the river mouth. I look at my own arms, imagining their copper tones turned blue and I shudder into the soles of my feet, such things are the visions of nightmares and fearful stories around the smouldering fire. Most worrying is his lack of hair, smooth head with no crest of hair. ‘Never trust a hairless hunter’ my great-grandmother had told me as she rocked on her chair, smoking her grisha root; but her mind was addled by time and root both, even my mother said it before she passed. Rumour had been she had seen the days of the Trabe, that she had witnessed the revolution of the Jal Sankur as he led us out into the deep aboard the ships of our oppressors. I asked her once about it, whether Jal had looked been tall like me, but she hushed me at her knee and told me only of days in waterless lands, traded between Ogla and Nistrim and Relora. Addled. 

The wreck behind them is beginning to whine again, a great churning and gnashing of metal against metal. They seem unbothered, perhaps they are deaf to all but each other. The blue one laughs as he reaches to touch the other man. My ears are already protesting being this close to the wreck, I hear my mother’s warning, cutting through the cacophony that beats at my eardrums. ‘The wrecks are no place for a child, there is nothing left there that would interest you.’ I hate when she calls me a child. I am almost 13 anniversaries, if we were still aboard the ships I would be a warrior like my forefathers. I cried in anger at her once, screeching that I would have been a warrior if she hadn’t been stuck here. She spat at my feet and told me I was a fool and I saw it in her eyes too. Old violence and anger, a deeper heritage than we would admit.

The sound from the wreck eases, as from its high peak another yellow star emerges into the night sky. The two mountains are distracted, chattering in unfamiliar tongues as they smile and laugh. Now is my chance to sneak into the star machine. I pick my way through the reeds and hold my breath as I brush their stems with my lanky arms, fearful they will look and spy my hiding place. But they are lost in their low-toned chittering and I slip into the wreck’s open wound, the ripples of my footsteps pinging on the dark metal that rises from the murky water. 

The two beings within are stranger still, I can see them clearly from my hiding place in the ducting. My father had always said my long arms and slight body would be a blessing. Two aliens work in the room below, huddled around their little light sources, I make note that their night sight might be bad, a useful thing to remember if I have to run. The nearest one is like a great feathered bird, it chatters and clucks with a beak that could puncture a searcher ship’s skin, curving like the meat hooks in mother’s pantry, one long scar running down its pale blue length till it ends at the cruel looking tip. I shudder as it summons the memory of a close encounter with a Ghona bird, the great hunting raptor had taken a fancy to me when I strayed too close to its nest. I can feel the heat of its breath even now, the deafening crunch as its beak snapped together, the cold warmth of my fear running down my leg. The bird-like one throws its head back and clacks its beak together in rapid succession, a strange staccato laughter echoing along the metallic corridor. It itches my ears but the other one seems unphased, are all these creatures as deaf as each other? 

I cannot see anything I would call ears on the other one, only small holes in its pale pink skin. It’s ugly by any estimation, with flat hairless skin like the blue one outside but scaled and rough, like the lizards that live on the banks of the river that make my skin crawl at a touch, strange and cold. It seems focused on the panel, jabbing at it over and over with frustration, always eliciting the same result a big orange message. I remember a wall panel in Uncle Tos’ house bearing similar letters, he claimed it was salvaged from a ship he called Devore. I remember him scoffing at the thought of them. The two exchange words as they work, referring back and forth to their devices, little grey cubes that beep and whir and flicker with a rainbow of lights, buzzing like firebugs at a particularly interesting flower. They seem pleased as the device shrieks in a high-pitched tone and their screens turn a green shade, different messages flickering on their screens. 

The wreck begins to whine again. It’s deafening in the crawlspace and I clutch my ears, barely biting my tongue before a cry of pain escapes my lips. Through my tear-filled eyes, I can see the two here are as unbothered as the mountain men outside, I feel as though the bird one’s meat hook beak is piercing my eardrums. The walls of my small hiding hole begin to shake and rattle, the wreck must be preparing to launch another tiny star. 

The wailing becomes unbearable, I fear I might scream or cry but I cannot even hear my ragged breaths begging for release. 

Then there is silence, a chatter and clatter of beaks and hissing sounds from the two below but sweet silence from the tiny star manufacturer. Then their chattering voices cease too. Had they heard me heaving gulps of air into my lungs? Could I be at the mercy of aliens? My Great-grandmother never had any advice for aliens, and my mother’s lectures on cooking and cleaning would be of no use here. Nor would my Uncle’s barrel laugh nor my father’s gigantic stature. I have only myself here in this place I was forbidden to step. If I ran back to the village offering my quivering knees to warn of the aliens I would be in trouble. If I slunk back, heavy with lies that I had never been here the seekers who were surely following the shooting stars would be caught unawares. 

I draw a deep breath. 

And before I can choose the floor falls away and I crash to dark, metallic ground. 

From orbit the gas giant seemed peaceful, an oversized red marble suspended in the perfectly clear amber of space, timeless and still. Even from the neighbourly distance of 800 thousand kilometres, (for what is a few thousand kilometres between friends on a canvas measured in lightyears) the rolling storms of its surface, ever crashing and screaming seem to be nothing more than a trick of light in the eye. The silent banshee wails of ammonia storms, strong enough to crush ships to forgettable dust, race at the speed of sound across the surface of the rust-coloured marble, swirling and twisting with a fury that would lift mountains and seas as a child lifts glass pebbles at the end of the game. The dark storm clouds rolled and thrashed like claret-scaled fish caught in the net, flailing desperately against the massive gravity of the planet to be free of their prison. Beneath it, currents of silver liquid hydrogen, compressed by pressures beyond comprehension roil and bubble against the overwhelming forces of physics that pin it to the molten surface of the planet’s core. And in its very heart, an invisible and unknowable thing brought into existence simply by being reaches outward greedily, the planet’s gravity clutching at passing asteroids and meteors with its thousand mile fingers. They form a royal court one hundred strong, of moons and satellites, eternally following their rigid dance steps idly around the great red sphere, resigned to the unwilling termination of their journey through the cosmos. 

David reached out with his hand to cup the red orb, letting the empty cup that he was clutching float free in the lab’s minimal gravity “It almost makes me homesick.” He said, pulling it closer and caressing the miniature planet gently with an outstretched finger, accelerating the simulated storms back and forth across the planet’s surface playfully. “Are you sure there isn’t a little blue one to go with this?” He leant around the jovian model to see How floating nearby, his long otter-like form wrapped around a cluster of sharp metallic shapes representing the debris at the edge of the system. 

“If you are asking for an Earth-like planetoid David, I’m afraid I cannot help.” The long furry being motioned with his stubby arms towards a green orb that rolled nearby, a familiar grey shape slowly tracking it in orbit as the stellar cartography lab translated Helios’ location into the immersive projection. “That is the best I can do. Minshara class, but I’m afraid a bit too green to be earth.”

“I thought the reports said it was mostly ocean?” David allowed the red orb to float free again, the angry storm ridden marble floating away and back into its simulated orbit. Reaching out with his arms he awkwardly swam, his arms flailing like a panicked babe, through the gravity-less air towards the much smaller green orb, scooping it from its sedate seat amongst the heavens. 

“It is, but it features several massive algae blooms and the surface is predominantly marshland, hence the green colour, particularly on the day side where the algae have taken over large portions of the surface water.” How’s whiskered face appeared from behind a large piece of debris he had been focussing on. “Did you not take these scans yourself, David?”

David sighed, “Yes, but I was more focused on the fact the sensors were scanning rather than what they were scanning.” The lieutenant had been working hard for several hours alongside the ship’s Kelpian chief engineer to restore the sensor palettes, their partial success was highlighted by the improving accuracy of the scans represented in the lab. “Did you the information you need?” The young officer was researching the angry looking underspace portal that had brought them here but with only basic readings from the patrolling valkyries and runabouts his available information had been limited. 

“Mostly.” How brushed aside the debris to the corner of the room, the vast field of metal chunks from a thousand more unfortunate travellers melting away to present the white-blue line of energy rolling and twisting in space, its jagged serpentine form making David’s hairs stand on end. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Sorry?”

“Gorgeous. Beautiful? Impressive? Did I not use the word correctly?” How big brown eyes were suddenly filled with concern at his possible linguistic stumble.

David tugged at his lip with a fishhook, “It’s a deadly space portal?”

“That doesn’t make it any less beautiful.” How raised his eyebrows and offered an honest smile, causing his small incisors to poke out beyond his lips. The young officer’s endless wonder at the universe was widely considered his most endearing trait, that and his persistent positivity. 

“It does have a certain… beauty.” David considered the white crack in space that quietly fizzed and popped with vicious sparks of energy. “Even if it did gobble us up and spit us out who knows where.”

“That’s not completely true. I believe I’ve triangulated our position.” How waved his stubby arms as his tail flicked back and forth, driving him effortlessly through the waterless ocean of stars that now shimmered into being. “It took some time to filter out the solar radiation but I believe we are…” He came to a stop, rolling his body into a pretzel effortlessly to counter the momentum “…here.” A red light began flashing at the tip of his webbed claw a lonely crimson light pulsing amongst a sea of white and yellow orbs. 

“I need a bit of a bigger perspective How, we don’t all commit star charts to memory.” David glanced around, but no familiar patterns or shapes jumped out at him, meaning they weren’t anywhere near the Badlands where they had started. The hairs on David’s neck got more rigid at the implications. 

With a wave of his furry arm, the lab’s perspective reeled back, condensing lightyears into centimetres, quickly the entire Milky Way galaxy sat floating between the two science officers. “About here.” The light appeared again at the tip of How’s claw, sadly flashing from the far edge of the Beta Quadrant, lolling far beyond the tumultuous green lines of Romulan space or the blood-red edges of Klingon Territory. Decades of travel even in Starfleet’s fastest ship, which Helios was definitely not. 

David felt suddenly sick as the truth of the situation came to his head. the presence of Viddian debris, the Devore shipwreck on the planet, and the Kazon children the away team had met all suggested to the Delta Quadrant, where at least the Barzan wormhole could be reached and Starfleet tentatively travelled. “Does the Comman… Captain know?” David admonished himself for the misranking of his friend as he rubbed his belly, barely able to hold his stomach, unsure whether it was the news or the micro-gravity. 

How gave an apologetic look and a slow nod. “Hence my focus on getting the portal back open for travel.”

Their sad observation was interrupted by the slick sounds of the lab’s doors, several metres below the pair the statuesque figure of Commander Bib strode in as the light from the corridor flooded the dark backdrop. He only took a few steps before haltingly suddenly as he remembered where the lab’s gravity plating ended. 

“Captain, please join us!” How beckoned with a short arm as he slowly span in the air. “We were just discussing our situation.” How motioned with his other arm, dismissing the 

Bib’s face turned pale for a moment before he decided to commit, it wouldn’t do for a commanding officer to not take his shoes off in someone else’s proverbial house. With a slight jump, he escaped the deckplate’s gravity generators and began moving towards the pair, his antenna twisting awkwardly as they attempted to orientate his internal balance. With an expert flick of his arms, he landed next to the scientists, their three giant forms now surrounding the holographic anomaly. 

“That was smoother than I expected,” David admitted as the Andorian came to a stop. 

“Low G training is a big thing at the Imperial Academy.” Bib smiled thinly as he reached up to still his wiggling antenna. “It’s not something you forget.” David rubbed his belly again, suddenly aware of his inexperience in low gravity. “Any update How?”

The science officer pulled at the edges of the thin white line that signified the closed mouth of the portal, enlarging it and causing sets of scan data to surround the hologram, their various data sets twitching slowly as they cycled. “We are ninety-nine percent certain that we travelled through Underspace, collated data from the ship and several scans from Heliades confirm it is an unstable portal to the network.”

“Original maps from the Turei never indicated it went this far, I mean it’s essentially the edge of the galaxy.” Bib rubbed the thin stubble on his chin, a telling sign that he hadn’t had a chance to return to his quarters for at least a day. 

“Those maps were woefully small. The Turei were concerned only with the main tracks that connected resource-rich locations and their territory, they’ve never had the resources to travel further. It’s what Starfleet was hoping to offer them through the DEI.” David clarified, playing with his own thick facial hair mindlessly. 

“I’m not surprised the network reaches much further. It seems to be a reflection of ‘normal’ space.” How flexed his small-clawed fingers into air quotes, an unfortunate habit acquired from a scientist he had worked with in his youth. “It makes sense that there would be far-reaching tendrils, I suspect something has caused a number of access points to open whilst also stabilising several older ones.” He reached up to stroke his whiskers, intentionally mimicking the two other men. 

“My bruises beg to differ about it being stable.” Bib rubbed his shoulder where a large cerulean bruise lay beneath his uniform. 

“Helios is proof that it is.” How recalled the debris field back into existence. “From what I can gather these vessels all arrived here via the portal, or at least portions of them did.” His tone fell solemn. “I believe they suffered major damage in the network which then deposited the debris here.”

“Recently?”

“Yes… and no.” How pointed to the largest fragments as he spoke, each highlighted with scan data in turn. “We know this piece is Vidiian, deposited here at least fifteen years ago, this piece has damage consistent with heavy theta radiation we’ve seen with Malon ships but is aged at almost 20 years. This appears to be Hirogen but is more than 50 years old, this one matches hull materials used by the Kobali in the last decade.” Several other hull sections were highlighted with large question marks, “I’ve no idea about the providence of these fragments but dating indicates they range from six months to almost a century.”

“Combined with a number of shipwrecks we’ve found on the planet?” David offered another dot for Bib to join. 

“People have been getting spat out here for a while.” Bib took a sharp intake of breath, “We’ve been very lucky haven’t we?” The two scientists nodded solemnly. 

“I suspect the Kazon on the planet are survivors of a similar transit.” How offered. 

“Have you found any Kazon wreckage?”

How withdrew a small pad from his belt, eliciting a light jingle of clacking rocks from a leather pouch around his belts. “Nothing currently.” His brow furrowed. “No debris in orbit or on the planet consistent with Kazon construction.”

“Anyok & Bahir are en route to the village with the Kazon teenager now, perhaps they can answer some questions.” Bib pushed the debris aside once more, his focus returning to the Underspace Portal, his face set hard as his eyes drilled laser beams into the slim white subspace crack. “Can we reopen it? Can we get home?” David was struck by the weariness in his voice, the sudden pressure of a ship filled with people weighing on his shoulders. 

“We have data from Voyager and the Turei about entering Underspace. Navigating home?” How’s smile faded slightly but was bolstered moments later as his perpetually positive attitude rose to meet his falling hopes. “Is something I look forward to trying.” A weary smile raced around the trio as the tiny holographic portal flickered and sparked with energy, its secrets closer than they were this morning. 

The silence was comfortable in the forward lounge as the delta shift rolled into its fourth hour. The last of the chattering ensigns had finally returned their plates to the temporary kitchen set up against the aft bulkhead to make the emergency field rations more appealing. The cook had powered down his hot plates and cleaned his pans and with a shared nod to the lounge's single occupant departed for some well-earned rest before the next rotation. Commander Biban Th’erhilnon was alone with his thoughts once more. He swilled the empty mug idly around his fingers as he pressed his forehead to the transparent surface of the windows, the tinny ringing of the mug against the grey table like the hum of a warp core. Steady, predictable, reliable. It was a paltry replacement for the ship's own core that lay frustratingly silent, despite the commander's best efforts. 

Bib let out a frustrated snort of air against the window, clouding the vision of the nearby planet and the debris field beyond that sheltered at its heart the infuriating Underspace corridor that had brought Helios to this marooning. Repairs were slow going and no doubt Ensign How's recent revelation of their distant stellar location would only slow them even more. 50,000 lightyears is a big punch to the stomach, especially without warp drive. Their only option was to go back through the Underspace corridor but with no warp core and no thus no way to generate a warp field they couldn't even open the door let alone navigate through the barely charted subspace network. So for now, they sat, tail between their legs. 

“Please don't break her,” he whispered to the perilous solar system beyond the glass as he recalled Captain Tanek's parting words. Beyond the window he knew the space surrounding them was filled with overwhelming solar radiation that interfered with their warp field and kept them locked on this subspace island, only the shelter on the night side of the planet protected it from slowly cooking the hull and its crew within. “I won't be able to look him in the eye if I break her.”

“I think he'll understand” a voice hissed from behind him, the slow draw and release of converted air a telltale sign of its owner.

“I thought you were still in isolation?” Bib pushed a chair from under the table, offering it to the Barzan woman, her rebreather implants quietly hissing in the background. 

“I speak to you from the beyond!” Placing her cane beneath an armpit Oshira wiggled her fingers in mock mysticism as she took the seat, landing with a surprising thud into the cushioned panel. 

“Ensign Garinna down in the fabrication team.” she tapped the small scars on her cheeks where the rebreathers were located, “did you know she spent a year aboard a Benzite mining colony before joining?” She let out a long contented sigh as she wiggled her shoulders, sinking into the thick padding of the chair. “She's become a dab hand with rebreathers and their microcircuitry and she wasn't busy, because…” she motioned towards the recessed replicators in the walls that had lay quiet for several days now in the interest of power conservation. Their dark screens and inactive buffer plates were a constant reminder of their predicament as a barely perceptible layer of dust began forming on their surface. 

“You really can find anyone and anything can't you?” Bib smiled, pouring her a cup of water from the jug on the table. 

“That's why they call me bloodhound.” She lifted her cup to her lips and took a short sip, barely masking the gentle shake in her arm. 

“Do you think you could find me a way out of here?” Bib slumped back, his self-pity threatening to rise above a low simmer.  

“You know the way out.” She tapped the table's small panel creating a digital enhancement of the window showing the debris field beyond the ship's bow, the crackling light of the Underspace portal creeping around the jagged silhouettes of the broken ships.

“I'm not sure I'm a huge fan of that road.” A shudder raced down Bib's spine as the two watched a great jolt of energy leap out and smite a piece of debris that dared to wander too close to the grumbling portal mouth. 

“Why?”

“Why?!” BiB cried, “Did you miss the briefing about our current situation?” He threw his arms wide, motioning to the empty lounge as his frustrations began to spill out. "We are marooned in a distant system at the edge of the actual galaxy! We are probably 50,000 light years from Federation space. We have no warp core. Sensors are barely functioning and we can only work on them for an hour at a time before the engineers need decon which means a day job has become a week job! We can see about this much of the space around us, so there could be threats everywhere and we wouldn't know it until they chomped down on our throat. I have lost a senior member of the crew somewhere out there, plus the symbiote they carried, so essentially 3 people are now MIA. And between you and me they are almost definitely dead." Bib stood from the chair, his barely restrained frustrations boiling over into the crew lounge. “There is an ominous debris field hovering outside the window twenty-four seven and it seems that the only way out of this place seems to be through the portal that brought us here which we can't open or use because, if you'll remember, NO WARP CORE!”

Bib's heaving breaths filled the silence as Oshira waited patiently for the man to finish. “Do you feel better?”

“Maybe a little,” Bib confessed, his anger beginning to peter out. 

“Would a bon-bon help?” She pulled a pink striped bag from her jacket pocket and unfurling the top, offered the frustrated Andorian a small yellow treat. 

Bib blinked slowly in disbelief. “Those are the Captains.”

“Where do you think Tanek gets them from?” She smiled as she popped a sugar-covered orb into her mouth. “I ‘an ’ind a'y'hing.” 

Bib let out another frustrated sigh as he took a sweet from the bag, placing it on his tongue and beginning to chew. “We have to go back into the Underspace don't we?”

Oshira swallowed loudly. “Yes.” With a grunt of exertion, the older woman turned in her seat to face the young officer. “What are you really scared of Bib?”

“There are 507 souls currently aboard this ship, more if you count the relays Oyo swears have a personality.” Oshira let out a slight laugh, the young Xindi Ops chief was well known to chat to consoles and bulkheads whilst she worked, going so far as to name a particularly problematic relay on deck 6 Lucifer for it's persistent failures. “I've already lost 3 people just by coming here."

“Through no fault of your own.” She laid a hand on his. “Exploration is dangerous Bib, we all know that.” Her breath caught in her throat, causing her to cough and splutter as she was exposed to the imperfect mix of gases in the ship's air. 

“We almost lost you.” Bib rubbed her back as she took several deep breaths and settled back into a rhythm. “And what if we're not the only one? What if there are a hundred other ships out there all suffering the same problem? What is the Federation has just been ripped to shreds and we're all that's left?”

“That's a big if. And a certain level of arrogance Commander.” Oshira took another sip of the water as her admonishment fell upon Bib's furrowed brow. “Do you really think us so important that the universe has singled us out to suffer?”

“Well, no…”

“Exactly. The universe doesn't have a plan Bib, it's not a grand design to challenge us. If I've learnt anything it's that it's all just excitable atoms running around bumping into other excitable atoms.” 

Bib remained silent, the balloons of his pity party pinpricked and fast deflating. It was easy to forget the wisdom that wandered through the ship's halls, particularly those who had recently returned to service like Oshira and Doctor Ashra, a lifetime of hard-learned lessons living shoulder to shoulder with fresh-faced ignorance.

“Danger comes with the territory, everyone that steps aboard a starship knows that, it's inescapable. It's the deal we make to get to see the universe.” She leant back into the chair's wide arms with a sigh, “Why do you think people join Starfleet? Why did you?” 

Bib chewed his cheek, considering his reply. “I always liked the night sky on Andoria, especially after an ice storm, my father would tell me off whilst repairing power relays on the surface because I would get distracted staring at the stars. I was desperate to see them up close.”

Oshira smiled, accentuating the motherly form of her face, filled with well-earned wrinkles and smile lines “I wanted to chase comets, something about their constant movement fascinated me.”

“There aren't any comets here. And we're not moving very fast.” Bib felt thoroughly deflated.

“At the moment.” Oshira pushed herself up from the chair, “There are no comets at the moment.” She motioned with her cane to the feed of the debris field projected onto the window as she lifted it from the table and steadied herself, her arms still gently shaking with the effort. “I'm pretty sure they're all through there.”

"Oyvo to Bahir, Sir we have an update from the surface." 

“Stand by Oyvo.” Bib answered, tapping his combadge. “Oshira, do you really think it's worth the risk?”

The older Barzan woman turned back to look at the neophyte Captain, his legacy stretching out before him, a lifetime of adventures yet unrealised. “Sometimes it might kill me just to breathe Bib,  Of course, it's worth it.”

Oshira turned as Bib clicked his comm badge once again, a smile spreading across her face. The chances of chasing comets were suddenly a lot higher. 

A thick, sugar-rich scent hung throughout the modest cabin, its scavenged walls and repurposed furnishings heavy with the sweet smoke that tickled the tongue and twitched the nostrils. The remodelled chairs and hand-hemmed curtains suffused with the indefinable mix of spices and seasonings that was a testament to hours spent above the perpetually bubbling cauldron in the corner of the kitchenette. Bahir’s tongue wrestled behind his thin lips, desperate to leap out and sample the sweetened air like a young saurian, still unaccustomed to manners. Confident he could sup that air for a thousand years and still never discover each ingredient, he pushed the childish desire down as his attention returned to the avian figure of Anyok who continued her polite questioning of the plump wire-haired matriarch who stood at the fire-filled stove. 

“How long did you say you’ve been here?” Anyok’s beak chattered, her eyes wide with an interest both explorative and tactical. 

“Najall and her kin will be the second generation born on the planet’s surface.” The older woman motioned to the slim girl playing with her stout brother in the corner of the room, she danced around him picking and poking at the young boy’s unkempt hair. She whispered unfamiliar teasing words, two generations worth of deviation enough to confuse the universal translator’s linguistic library, whose base knowledge of the Kazon language was thin at best. 

“We’re you born here?” Anyok probed. “I’m sorry I completely forgot your name…” 

The woman’s eyes narrowed momentarily, lifting a wide round tasting spoon to her lips as she scrutinised the pair of Starfleet Officers. Anyok suspected she was not unfamiliar with first contacts of a sort, her words as considered as each of the spices she selected from a small shelf nearby. “Kylana.” She offered after a brief pause. “And you are Anyok? And Bahir?” She nodded to the coral coloured Saurian also sat at the table, who nodded a silent affirmation. Though Bahir technically outranked Anyok as acting XO, the Saurian was not so foolish as to flex his rank over the Theta Squad’s commander who had several first contact accolades in her thick service jacket. He could hear the voice of Captain Tanek, half a thousand light years away, ‘a good XO does not shout louder than his officers’. 

Anyok chattered happily, “Kylana, yes! That, I could forget such a lovely name.”

She waved dismissively with a free hand as the other continued to stir slow circles in the cauldron before continuing. “No, I wasn’t one of the first born on the surface, though I wasn’t even a teen when we finally left the ship and set up the village proper.”

“And where is the ship now?” Bahir interrupted, suddenly considering Helios was at a detecting disadvantage even against relatively unadvanced Kazon tech. 

“Gone.” She motioned with the spoon through the kitchen’s wide window towards the glowing white orb that was the underspace aperture fizzing in space not far from the planet. “In amongst the debris out there somewhere.”

“So you know about the debris field and…” Anyok hesitated, taking an educated guess by the woman’s age they had been on the planet for at least 4 decades if not more. That was well before Voyager’s journey to the Delta Quadrant, they may not even know about Starfleet, the Federation or the state of the galaxy. 

“The portal?” Kylana finished. “Yes. Don’t let appearances fool you, we’re not backward, we remain informed about the ways of the universe.” She offered an admonishing brow. “We journeyed through the portal ourselves and we’ve collected a variety of information from the ships that have also been stranded here.”

The two Starfleet officers shared a glance, there was no way to know what information had made it through to this remote colony. “If I may, what led you to make a home here?” Bahir asked, steering the conversation in a different direction. 

“Necessity. We remained on the ship for a few months after the transit but we suffered significant damage and were never able to restore the ship to faster-than-light functionality. ” Kylana set a lid on the pot and returned to the carved table, offering a small bowl of fresh looking berries to the room. “I suspect you’ve encountered something similar.” She fished, unsubtly. 

Ignoring the bait Anyok charged on, “You didn’t attempt to return through the portal?”

“Kazon technology is somewhat basic and our understanding of its true capabilities even more so.” she acknowledged. “We were a small, struggling tribe on the run and unfortunately we lacked the knowledge to reopen the portal. It was only several years later when a Turei ship got dragged into orbit that we learnt of Underspace and it’s reach.” She sat on a carved chair with a heavy thump of her skirts. “By then our ship was lost and we were settled here amongst the reeds, there was no desire to leave. Even if we could.”

“And the other vessels? Other people?” Bahir asked, acutely aware of the homogenous population of the village, it was a dangerous tactic but she had mentioned other space faring civilizations and a quick call into Helios confirmed no other colonies on the planet. Solitary Kazon amongst a sea of broken ships begged several questions. 

“Lost en route or trying to leave.” If she was hiding something it didn’t show. “Survivors would usually orbit for a few days, make repairs and then re-enter the portal or more accurately die trying.”

“No-one made it out?” Anyok’s words were short and precise, an edge of barely perceptible worry deep in her throat. 

“Not for as long as I remember.”

“And they all try to leave via the portal? No one wanted to stay?” Bahir asked, looking around the cabin, the village beyond the scavenged metal walls wasn’t the height of luxury but he couldn’t believe no one in 50 years hadn’t opted to stay. “No one tried just heading out?”

“I think a Hazari bounty hunter attempted to fly to the edge of the system a few years ago, to see if he could escape the interference and generate a warp field.” The woman pinched a small berry in her fingers pretending to fly it slowly through space. 

“And?” Anyok slicked quietly. 

Kylana squished the berry between her fingers. “Last we saw was his ship collapsing in the upper atmosphere beyond the gas giant when he got caught in its gravity well.”

A sudden chill ran down Bahir’s spine as a realisation crossed his brow. “Then you have some long-range sensors?”

“As I said Bahir, we’re not as backward as we might appear.” She smiled, picking another berry from the bowl with her sticky fingers. 

Bahir glanced to Anyok and flicked his round eyes upward, if the Kazon had sensor tech, they were no doubt already aware of Helios, the injured mothership still hanging in geo-synchronous orbit above the tidally locked planet. Anyok tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement, it wasn’t a huge leap to believe they might have also held on to technology of a less scientific nature. The pair’s silent consultation was interrupted by the thud of a head upon the doorframe as the hulking form of a Kazon male entered the cabin. 

“Chucka!” Kylana cried, “One day your skull or that lintel will loose the fight!”

“No doubt you pray it will be my skull.” Tos laughed, his voice deep enough to rumble the table and quake the berries in their pot. “I was in such a rush to come and meet our newest arrivals.”

“Word travel’s fast it seems.” Bahir stood to meet the man. 

“I would have been here 5 minutes ago but I was chatting to your own mountain men outside.” He motioned with a great arm, spade-like hands pointing to Ole and Khal who stood watch in the small square formed by the collected cabins. As instructed their weapons remained holstered, though the two crewmen remained on high alert. “Is it only the four of you?”

“No, actually there are…” Anyok caught her loose tongue before it danced merrily from her beak. “… we have others aboard our ship in orbit.”

“Then we shall have to see what we can scrounge up for a welcome.” Tos threw his arms wide and laughed once more.

“We would love that. We just need to check in with our ship, lest they become worried we are incapacitated.” Anyok nodded to the two security officers in the square. “If we may?”

“It’s not my house to keep you in, nor would I if t’were.” He smiled, standing aside to allow the officers to leave. 

As Bahir stepped past the man with a grateful nod, Anyok hovered, studying the unfamiliar face. The man was gigantic, his rust-coloured skin cut with a wide toothy grin. Atop his head, thick clumps of hair, the signature of the Kazon people, were slowly beginning to grey with age though the man showed little else in the way of geriatric traits. A second shudder ran down her spine as she realised what little knowledge Starfleet retained on the Kazon and how different might these people be after 50 years, separated from the tribes. Perhaps there was hope for a different relationship?

As the older officer dipped her blue plumage in a respectful nod and she took a step out into the warm twilight air of the square, she allowed a mote of hope to creep into her heart; unaware that the dimpled smiles that she left behind had quickly been replaced with cold, calculating eyes. 

“To be honest they seem quite happy here.” The holographic figure of Anyok tilted her head quizzically at the end of the conference table. “They don’t seem to be lacking for supplies or infrastructure. They seem to have everything they need save for some minor computer components but they’re confident they can find those amongst the wrecks.”

“Anything in particular?” Oyvo leant forward over the table, her body barely supported by her weary elbows, her body aching after hours of co-ordinating the shuttle and worker bees in Helios’ air space alongside Lieutenant K’Sal. ”We could make a show of goodwill?” She looked to the acting captain at the other end of the table, who sat stroking his stubble-covered chin. 

“Some network switches, a few reels of data cable, maybe some data storage units. There is a massive amount of data they’re collecting from the wrecks and they lack the computing power to investigate it properly.” Anyok scratched at the large crest of feathers atop her head. “It seems an odd thing to focus on but it seems they’re more interested in that than returning to space.” 

“What little we’ve seen of the Kazon have always been as raiders and hunters looking for supplies, perhaps the abundance of this planet has given them a chance to explore a different life.” Eyma offered, playing with the remnants of her tea in her hand, the brown liquid swirling in pleasing circles as she toyed with the mug. “It’s amazing what a solid supply of water and food will do for a people.” 

“Kylana also indicated they had little success in opening the portal or undertaking faster-than-light travel in the system due to the solar interference. It is not unreasonable that they turned to other interests.” Bahir added, his coral-skinned hologram standing next to Anyok’s at the end of the egg-shaped table. 

“Are we still having trouble with the warp drive?” Bib’s attention was beyond the room, returning to Federation space was top of his list, the Kazon were secondary. 

The room waited with bated breath as Oyvo and Nakashri exchanged frustrated glances. Oyvo finally broke the silence with a sigh. “Unfortunately yes. The ambient subspace interference is stopping us from generating a stable warp field, we get a few seconds in and the field just collapses, and then all the nacelle coils need to be discharged and reset before we can try again.”

“A few seconds is better than nothing, can we not make a short jump?” Bahir questioned from the surface of the marshy planet. “Make it further out of the system and away from the interference?”

“How’s collated data suggests the subspace interference extends several lightyears outside of the system.” David mused. “We’d be bunny-hoping for months, assuming the interference doesn’t get worse.”

“And we don’t damage ourselves in the process,” Oyvo added. 

“The portal then?” Bib’s eyes were fixed on the simulation of the white-hot crack in the sky that slowly hovered holographically over the centre of the table, its jagged form smiling predatorily. 

“We do believe we can open the portal, Voyager’s data indicates a subspace field can widen the gap and allow access to Underspace. With main systems back online we can generate that, even if only for a few seconds. It’s not enough for warp but it’s enough to wedge the portal open.” Oyvo offered, summoning a projected model above the centre of the table where a miniature Helios slowly slipped between the toothy maw of the anomaly, protected by a flickering subspace field. 

“We would still be lost in the Underspace’s labyrinthine network,” Bahir stated, his holographic eyes narrowing as his attention was caught by something off-screen. 

“Now that short-range sensors are sort of back online thanks to the amazing work of Nakashri and her team.” David acknowledged with a nod, the weary Kelpian Chief Engineer slumped in her chair, quickly losing the battle with her sleep-filled eyelids. “We have found this.” The young man summoned a set of data over the holographic crack, dismissing the round form of Helios as a path of cloudy haze flowed out from the portal, reaching back into the distance towards the planet like an orange-tinged brick road. “Look familiar?”

The room remained silent, save for the beginnings of a gentle snore from Nakashri, who had lost the battle with consciousness. 

“It’s plasma, from the Badlands.” David smiled, his wide grin peeking out from his mess of a dark beard. “It seems we weren’t the only thing that got dragged through.”

“You think we could use it as a thread, to guide us back down the right path?” Anyok chirped, her holographic beak chattering quietly as the mote of hope. 

“I believe we can track it back down the Underspace yes. There is a time constraint as the plasma is dispersing, so we would need to move sooner rather than later.” David’s smile almost hummed, it had been no secret the young man was struggling with the idea of being so far from Federation space. 

“It would mean leaving any chance of further negotiations and development with the Kazon behind.” Bahir clarified, his brow furrowing in the direction of his miniature holographic representation of David on the surface of the planet.  

“Only in the short term, I’m sure someone could come back and pick it up, maybe even us, but we’re in no state to do that now and we might lose the route home.” Oyvo gulped audibly. “Without the plasma thread, we could easily get lost in the Underspace.”

All eyes, holographic or otherwise on the room turned towards the figure of Bib, seated at the head of the table.

Bib stroked his scruffy chin again, playing with the short hair in his fingers as he chewed his cheeks in contemplation. After a long moment, he returned his attention to the assembled officers, dismissing the holographic projection of the Underspace portal. “I think we have to take the portal, Oyvo’s right we can’t risk losing the thread but I assume we’ve got a bit of time to at least leave some supplies and a promise to return?” 

“I believe so…” David began before a chirp of his combadge interrupted the room. 

“Ensign How to Lieutenant Mitchell.”

“I’m almost finished How, can it wait?” David’s face suddenly flushed with embarrassment by the interruption.

“Unfortunately not, I’m transmitting data to your console now. We are quickly running out of time.” David’s eyes grew wide as the data began streaming in from the stellar cartography lab where the young Lutrinae officer spent his days. Massive spikes of exotic particles and radiation began filling the screen as the data from the newly repaired sensor systems began fluctuating wildly. 

“We’re seeing a massive tetryon buildup at the portal, it’s causing the aperture to lose cohesion. I estimate only an hour at most before it disappears.”

Bib stood from the table, suddenly filled with renewed energy. “It seems the decision has been made for us. Bahir, thank your hosts and return immediately. We’re leaving.”

“And if they ask where we are going?” Bahir asked, caught off guard by Bib’s sudden urgency. 

“We’re going home, hopefully, someone will be back to continue this conversation later.” The two holographic officers nodded their understanding before dissolving into the air. “Eyma set a direct course to the aperture, we’ll depart as soon as the away team are aboard, and start working with David on a way to follow this plasma string, it’s our only navigation tool. Oyvo, would you mind waking Nekashri, between you start to securing the ship and battening down the hatches, we don’t know how rough the journey is going to be.” 

A moment of motionless silence hovered in the room as the crew were stunned by the man’s unexpected decisiveness. 

“Let’s get going, we’ve got a labyrinth to get through!” Bib cried, causing the assembled officers to jump from their seats and begin about their tasks. “And let’s hope we don’t meet any minotaurs on the way.”

The empty comfort of dark unconsciousness gave way to the screeching boil of blinding pain as Helena’s senses rushed to fill her suddenly conscious brain. Every joint protested at its existence, shouting silent profanities at her, nerves racing to spread messages of pain to her fragile cranium. The pit of her stomach twisted and gurgled, the echoing rhythm of twin heartbeats resonating against her skull, the second syncopated to the first, the unrelenting dual pulse she had come to forget since her joining. 

“At least you’re in one piece.” she coughed, her horse voice barely above a whisper. The symbiote hidden in her belly grumbled in confirmation. 

“You are indeed in one piece, though you’ve been unconscious for a while due to oxygen starvation. Our medic said it was touch and go when we rescued you.” a voice, smooth as dripping treacle slipped across the deck with viscous baritone notes. “I’m glad to see he was wrong.”

“And I suppose I have you to thank for that?” She rubbed her temples, hoping to push the floating spots of blinding pain from her eyes long enough to take in her surroundings. 

“I’m not looking for thanks, it’s not something we really trade in.” The treacle voice rolled effortlessly across the shadowed room once more, its owner secreted in the corner, his thick boots poking from the shadows as they rested atop a cargo crate. “We’d rather have more tangible recompense.”

Helena discreetly ran her hands down her waist and upper legs, still in her flight uniform. She patted her thighs in mock apology, “I’m afraid I’m a little out of Latinum right now.”

“Latinum?” 

“Not from home then. Noted.” The symbiote whispered from the recesses of her mind, its dual voice strained and thin. 

“It’s a precious metal that some people use for trade.” Helena’s eyes were clearing somewhat as she adjusted to the dark room, a meshed lighting fixture in the centre of the square room casting a dim light, filling the small space with jagged geometric shadows in the orange glow. 

“Because it has many uses?” the voice replied, its tone genuinely intrigued. 

“Actually, it has almost none.” Helena’s head was slowly clearing and with it her eyesight, though the pain remained grumbling deep in her belly. The figure across from her began to come into focus, an older man, his wide shoulders and burly body indicating he was several weight classes above the slender flight commander. “I’m not really sure why it’s so valued by some.”

“But not yourself?” The man leant forward, allowing the amber glow to catch his dark rust-coloured face and heavy brow above pale brown eyes, the shadows dancing over his thick knots of grey-tinted hair. Helena’s mind began running through three brains’ worth of knowledge, her search infuriatingly befuddled by her pounding head. 

“What makes you say that?” Helena leant back against the bulkhead that formed the edge of her small bed, attempting to present a calm and relaxed demeanour despite the screech of her bruised internal organs. 

“A calm voice brings calm decisions.” her symbiote advised as the voice of Gynis, the second host and fellow Starfleet officer stepped to the fore.

‘Easy for you to say.’ Helena chided across their neural link. ‘You’re not the one with the voice or the aching bones.’

“You said some people, I take that to exclude yourself.” The man leant forward, his face now wholly visible in the dull glow, the inquisitive twinkle in his eyes hovering over a tight smile, his crest of hair and bony brown forehead now completely on show. “Does this apply to all Starfleet officers?”

‘Kazon. You must be careful.’ Gynis warned. ‘They’ve always been hostile to Starfleet.’

“You know of Starfleet?” Helena asked, flexing her joints under the guise of comfort whilst continuing to assess the state of her body. No breaks or dislocations yet, that was reassuring. 

“Somewhat, some of the ships who come here had interacted with your people.” The man stood, crossing to a small console that illuminated as he approached. “I have not yet had the pleasure.” he stopped mid-step, turning to the woman on the bed and bowing slightly in polite deference. “Until today.”

Helena returned his bow with a small nod but found her tongue-tied as fragments of her memory began creeping through the slowly clearing fog of pain. A dying emergency beacon gurgling out a final cry; then a shadow of a beaked ship, golden wings rippling at its side; a thud as the Valkyrie was towed inside; and finally darkness as her lack of oxygen took over. 

“We don’t have a lot of information about your people I’ll admit, but it seems you’ve been very busy throughout the quadrant.” He pressed a small node on the console and columns of data began scrolling in an orange waterfall down the screen, dozens of languages and data types, symbols and texts she recognised and a dozen more she didn’t, a torrent of data on Starfleet pouring out from the console. “You certainly make an impression.” 

“Where did you get that information?”

He smiled before pressing another node, causing a nearby bulkhead to roll back tomb-like, revealing their position deep in the debris field as familiar jagged shards of bleached metal rolled past the wide window. “We have collected a great deal of data from the wrecks.” 

Despite the protestations of her body Helena stood, and stumbling with sudden pain made her way to the window. “Were they all wrecks when you found them?” Helena’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for any indication of a familiar grey-toned hull or delta-shaped emblem amongst the cracked remains. 

The man shrugged slightly. “On the whole. Some had survivors, like yourself, others did not. No ship made it through intact, and we made use of what was left. Why waste the resource?”

“And where are these survivors?” Helena’s heartbeats began slowing as the panic slightly eased, no sign of any fragments that would indicate Helios had suffered the same fate. Not in this portion of the field at least.

“Gone.” The man replied matter-of-factly. 

“By choice?” Helena turned to face him, tilting her head upwards awkwardly to see his face several shoulders above her own. 

He shrugged again. “There is always a choice.” Helena felt a chill run down her spine as he loomed over her predatorily. “For example, you have a choice.”

“Do I?”

“Indeed.” He lifted a carafe of water from a nearby shelf, hidden by the shadows of the room. “You could tell me more about this Latinum.” His large hands reached out, a small earthen cup held delicately between his fingers like a father playing tea with his daughter. 

Helena took the proffered cup, almost a tankard in her comparatively small hands. “There isn’t much to tell.” He tilted his head as he returned to his earlier position at the console, indicating she should continue. “It’s usually suspended in gold, it is liquid at room temperature, it’s quite hard if not impossible to replicate…” she shrugged, unable to recall any more interesting information about the currency between her slowly returning headache. “It really isn’t that interesting.”

The giant sighed, “Very well. Perhaps you can tell me more about this instead.” His large finger depressed a console node once again and the waterfall of data faded away to reveal the catamaran hull of Helios, its grey hull abuzz with small yellow and grey craft finishing repairs.

Helena’s heart jumped to her throat. Alive. Safe. Thank the goddesses. 

“I believe this is your ship. Helios? Is it?” His thick molasses voice oozed with confidence. “NCC 62384, that matches the markings on your craft’s hull.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you about that ship.” Helena’s heart slowed with practised stillness, an iron shell forming around it as she realised the man’s goals. 

“That’s a shame.” The Kazon man took a step towards Helena, his physical stature already intimidating despite being several metres away. “Not even why it’s the first ship to pass through the Underspace portal intact in 2 generations? That is very interesting, that’s something we can use.” He ran his fingers along the edge of his well-trimmed beard, “It might finally allow us to leave this place. Something to do with your warp engines? Or your Deflectors?” His eyes grew wide, “Some of the data say you have machines that can draw resources from thin air!” he gestured for effect, “a powerful tool indeed if we returned to the other Clans.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you about that ship,” she repeated. 

A weary sigh rolled from the man’s lips. “Are all Starfleet officers so unhelpful?

A tense silence descended over the pair, the balance of power vastly dropping in the Kazon’s favour. 

The sound of boots echoed down the corridor before pausing at the small door, a moment later it slid aside with a hiss, revealing a tall, lanky Kazon man, his body bird-like and slender in comparison to her host. “Maje, we’ve had a message from the village.”

The man stood, smiling as he patted down his crisp overalls. “And what does my daughter have to say?”

“Starfleet are leaving. Returning to their ship, it appears they’re charting a course to the anomaly.” 

“Then we must be ready. Take us into position for the strike.” With a nod the tall man was gone, his eyes hovering on the Trill woman for a moment before his heavy footfalls disappeared back down the corridor. The elder man turned to her, his confidence riling the acid in Helena’s aching belly. “It’s a shame you couldn’t tell us more about your ship, tactical knowledge could have mitigated the casualties.”

Helena felt her anger rising as her tongue broke free of its bonds. “I’ll tell you one thing.” The placid voice of the symbiote reached to chide her, to silence her before she made a foolish mistake, but the woman was all bile and biting venom. “Helios was made to be a warship, to fight the Borg. You won’t take her alone.”

The man threw his head back as a thunder of laughter escaped his barrel chest. “Alone!” He cried, laughing again as he made his way to the door which slid aside with a hiss allowing him to exit, his rumble of laughter echoing through the hull plates as he departed. Helena’s heart dropped as through the window a tan shape came into view, its long raptor-like beak of a prow cutting through the debris field, knocking aside scattered and stripped wrecks as another Kazon ship began to move into formation, then a second and a third and a fourth…

“Coming round to bearing 319, mark…” A deep thud resonated through the deck like a knell as a sizable piece of debris impacted on the leading edge of the port nacelle and ricocheted off into the debris field, the momentum swinging Helios’ fore-heavy form. “Correction, 252 mark 53.” Eyma’s right hand danced across the console with practised skill, drawing the circular prow of the ship upwards as her left hand found itself rooted to the engine controls, tightening the ship’s arc with the finessing of the impulse engines. 

“Maybe try not to hit every piece of debris.” Oyvo chided from his position at the ops console next to her. “Shields holding, no internal damage!”

“Sorry, that near-miss earlier gave it an unexpected spin.” the young Orion apologised with a grin, causing Oyvo to shake her head. Of course, the daredevil woman is enjoying it. 

“Watch out for that nacelle at 11 and 11.” David called from the flight ops table at the rear of the bridge, churning his limited sensor through the computer to generate a holographic replica of the field that rolled and tilted with Eyma’s every ministration, at its centre, Helios‘ form remained fixed as an anchor. 

“I see it, rolling to port.”

“Bahir, Alpha target opening to port, high.” K’Sal announced as a sleek red shape slid behind a large chunk of debris in the hologram, her attention was split between three lithe red figures that swam through the debris field, fading in and out as they slipped from cover to cover. But K’Sal was used to managing dozens of independent craft in 3 dimensions, she was in her element and her barely constrained smile rivalled that of the young helmsman. “I’m having Heliades sheepdog them into position.” 2 groups of small blue arrows shot across the holographic display reflecting the breakneck speeds the fighter squadron was undertaking to marshall the nimble raiders. 

“I see them. Standing by for a phaser volley.” the tall Saurian acknowledged from the tactical position on the port side, his tone as cool as an Andorian summer. The fifth-generation Starfleet officer sat calmly at his console, clods of mud still covering his trousers where he had rushed from the transporter room, his zen-like expression a stark counterpoint to the giddy expression still spanning some of his crewmate’s faces. Well known to be icy calm under pressure, he looked as if he might be composing a particularly dull service rota rather than strategising a high-stakes spacefight. 

“All your’s Bahir.” Bib confirmed from his standing position at the centre of the bridge. 

Silence swept onto the bridge as everyone present held their breath, lest a rogue inhalation should disturb the tactical officer’s concentration and they miss the opportunity to strike a hit against the infuriating Kazon wasps. Agonising seconds past, the passage of time marked only by the tinny clanking of debris against the ship’s large hull, Bahir’s long scaled finger hovering patiently above a large button marked ‘FIRE’. 

One. Clank. Not yet, the engine block is masked by a broken bulkhead. 

Two. Clank. Not yet, only one array is aligned. 

Three. Clank. Not yet, the target is rolling on its Z axis, attempting to bring its phasers to bear on the Heliades. A few more degrees and it will reveal its belly. 

Four. Clank. Helios’ frame groaned loudly as Eyma continued to pull its bow upwards like a rearing horse, the bones of the ship begging for Bahir to take the strike. 

Five. Clank. The target’s belly is exposed, its attention elsewhere, all dorsal arrays within arc. Now 

“Firing.” Bahir calmly announced as his finger made contact with the console’s surface, sending terawatts of energy racing across the long arcing dorsal phaser arrays before it lept out into the chilly void, propelling itself from the grey hulled ship before striking at the exposed underside of the Kazon raider. A blossom of orange and yellow fire erupted from the tan hull, masking the violent explosions that raced through the ship’s internal organs. Moments later grey flashes sped past the brown arrow ship as its engines suddenly gave up, the Heliades flight screaming past. 

“Direct hit, target Alpha is slowing and losing power.” Oyvo announced to the room, a communal gulping breath punctuating her sentence. 

“Yes!” Bib punched the air, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Bahir who seemed no more pleased with himself than if he had opened a particularly frustrating jar of Vulcan pickles. “You’re never leaving that console again Bahir.” The Saurian grumbled inaudibly behind his thin lips, acutely aware that he still was not taking his technically rightful position at the XO’s seat.  Bib turned to sit as the tension began to ease, finding only the ominous centre chair nearby he opted to continue standing. “Sit rep?”

“Target’s Alpha and Charlie disabled, Bravo appears to be retreating into the field.” Oyvo confirmed. 

“Should Heliades pursue?” K’Sal’s hand hovered over the holograms, ready to redeploy the ship’s combat squadron. Her other hand reached to her ear, where an earpiece relayed dedicated comms. “Astris is requesting authorization to engage.”

Bib shook his head tightly, “Pull them back to a protective cordon. We can’t risk losing them in the field.” K’sal acknowledged with a short nod before beginning to deliver instructions in a whisper. “Eyma distance to the portal?”

“Holding position 27.8 kilometres from the event horizon.” the young Orion conn officer flexed her wrists, freeing them from the tension of combat. “Still quiet.”

Turning to the rear of the bridge, where David continued to process data from their beaten and bruised sensor arrays, Bib raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Any luck on getting that portal open?”

“We were interrupted, I need to calibrate the correct frequency for Nakashri to tune the subspace field. The weapons fire is slightly distracting.” David retorted, running his hand through the scraggly mess that was his hair. 

“We might not have very long David.” 

“I’m aware Bib… Captain.” David caught his tongue a second too late, he could practically feel Bahir’s icy stare from across the room. “I’m running the calculations now but the longer we can stay stationary taking sensor readings with the forward array the better.”

“How long?” Bib stressed, leaning across the table, his head appearing to float like a particularly large piece of debris in the holographic field. “Every moment we wait is another moment the tetryon radiation is breaking down the aperture.” Not only did it seem the Kazon were determined to bar their exit, but the fabric of the universe seemed intent on closing the door, they still had no idea of the exotic radiation’s origin but it was enough to know the portal wouldn’t stay accessible long. 

“I’m aware Captain.” Won’t catch me out twice David thought. “But it’ll be a lot quicker if I can keep the forward sensor clusters fixed on the event horizon.”

“Is our yellow brick road at least still there?” The invisible plasma flow that had been drawn from the Badlands along with Helios would indicate the route home through the Underspace network, hopefully. It was a long shot but better than a 6-month journey to the edge of the system under impulse and then an unthinkably long journey back to the edge of the Federation. Bib suddenly felt his collar tighten, this was the only reasonable choice, every other path else was unthinkable. 

“That’s Oz Captain, I think it’s ruby slippers you’re after,” Eyma swung her chair round slowly to face the Andorian commander who looked back, a look of confusion spreading across his face. “Yellow brick road goes to Oz and the wizard. We need to click three times to go back to Kansas.” She clicked her boots together indicatively. “You know it’s not a bad metaphor, Kansas, tornado, yellow brick road…”

“Three new contacts emerging from the field alongside Bravo, designations Delta, Echo & Foxtrot. 60 seconds to weapons range.” Oyvo announced from the operations console. 

“…And here are the flying monkeys.” 

Quiet simmered on the bridge as 4 red arrows emerged from the gloom onto the holographic display, needle-like points driving through the void towards the round body of Helios, far too rotund and heavy to dodge the hypodermic tips of the raiders for long.

“Bahir?” Bib turned to the Saurian at his customary role at tactical. 

“Our options are two Captain. We remain here, ‘hunker down’ as the humans say and attempt to outlast the Kazon whilst we take the appropriate readings.” Bahir’s brows furrowed as he calculated a thousand probabilities. “The Raiders are not particularly powerful but we would be at a decided disadvantage. We will likely take damage and casualties but we have a much better chance of Mr. Mitchell discovering the appropriate field frequency.” 

Bib shuddered visibly at the thought of damage and casualties he would be responsible for, however indirectly. Bahir continued undeterred. 

“Alternatively we can undertake direct action and engage the raiders with the full capabilities of Helios. We have a good chance of fighting off all 4 with minimal losses but we will struggle to collect the data. However…” Bahir threw a glance to David at the rear of the bridge who returned his silent question with a quick shake of the head. “…we will likely lose access to the portal.”

“10 seconds till weapon’s range.” Oyvo announced, a slight quiver in her voice but Bib trusted her, she would not falter.

“I would like to return to Kansas, the choice however is your’s… Captain.” Bahir finished, prompting a response. Bib was suddenly struck by the relatively young officer, perhaps he did him a disservice by not inviting him to the XO seat. Perhaps Doctor Ashra had been right when they had first arrived, he did them all a disservice by not acting like the Captain. 

“Kansas it is Bahir.” Bib offered the man a quiet nod of acknowledgement. “K’Sal, have Heliades form a tight perimeter, short intercept only, no chasing. Oyvo give me as much power to shields as you can, all the juice, drain the batteries. David you’ve got your stationary position, make it worthwhile. Bahir, if you’d like to join me.” he motioned to the seat beside the central chair. 

“I believe I have instructions to remain at my station Sir.” Bahir allowed a playful smile to hang at the corner of the lips. 

As the deck shook from the first impact and then a second Bib stepped onto the raised platform that elevated the central command chairs of the bridge. Turning and setting himself down in the central chair he squeezed the armrest for comfort as he had seen Captain Tanek do a hundred times before. “Very well then Mr. Bahir. Fire at will.”

Helena’s hands were still cold. Even though she offered them as close as she dared to the roaring fire in her grandfather’s hearth, the chill still ran deep to her bones, it seemed she might never dispel this cold.

“You were silly to go exploring at night, especially at this time of the year” the old man chastised, picking up a thick woollen blanket from the nearby wingback chair and laying it around the young woman’s shoulders. “It was a foolish choice Helena.”

She opened her mouth to protest but found her chattering teeth agreeing with the old man’s statement and decided to let it slide. Her small form, barely 11 years old, swam in the blanket’s devouring layers but they instantly comforted her quacking body. Satisfied he had tucked the fabric tightly her grandfather returned to the corner of the room and pressed a discretely placed button in the wood-panelled living room. “Two hot chocolates,” he announced to the waiting replicator, “extra cream and marshmallows” he added quietly under his breath. Moments later a whistle, then clinking mugs, a shuffle across well-worn carpet and a warm drink was slid under the girl’s nose, a mountain of cream spotted with pink clouds swaying happily over the rim. “Whatever possessed you to go out there amongst the marshes? It’s almost below zero!”

Helena allowed her tongue to dart out from between her blue lips, swiping lizard-like at the topmost marshmallow. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

“You just said I was foolish!” She protested in her most haughty tone, unaware a small blob of cream sat on the end of her small nose, completely undermining any chance at being taken seriously. 

“Foolish yes, but never silly. You are easily the most serious 11 year old I know.” her grandfather tapped the end of his nose indicatively. 

Helena wiped the offending with a blanket-clad hand, even more infuriated by the undermining dairy product. “I’m the only 11 year old you know,” she grumbled sipping at the steaming drink and checking her face in the reflective mirror table top nearby. 

After a moment the man prompted again, Helena’s grandmother would assuredly want answers when she found out the girl had been found shivering in the marshes, and he was not one to cross his wife. “Well?”

“I wanted to see the meteor shower,” she confessed quietly, burying her embarrassment amongst the creamy Everest clutched in her hands. 

“The meteor shower?” he furrowed his brow in confusion. “But you could see that from the back garden, or watched it on the monitor?”

“It’s not the same. It’s so much clearer in the marshes, there’s no light pollution and there’s no noise.” She looked to the weary old man in his wingback chair judgementally. “And why would I watch it on screen when I could go outside and see it for real?”

“So you decided to go out storming the marshes, without a coat, without food or drink, without a map?”

“I had a map!” she cried loudly, wrestling to free her small arm from the trappings of the blanket to reveal the crudely drawn map in pen on her arm. Unfortunately, only a messy black splodge spanning her forearm was offered in defence. 

“You went unprepared and without knowledge.” He raised a thick white eyebrow knowingly. “That was foolish was it not?” 

She nodded slightly as her arm returned to the shelter of the thick blanket. 

“Always equip yourself with knowledge Helena. A simple enquiry as to the forecast would have told you to take a coat. A measurement of the distance would have told you to take food and water. A waterproof marker would have secured your map.” He sipped his own hot chocolate, allowing a mote of cream to find its way onto the tip of his crooked nose as he looked down at the young woman who sat red with embarrassment. So confident, so headstrong, so like her mother.  

Helena giggled as he played at ignorance. So like his daughter, his heart broke again every time she laughed. “You’re not angry then papa? That I went out to see the meteors?”

“I am not. Though your grandmother will no doubt have something to say about the matter.” both shuddered slightly at the thought of what the woman would say, she loved fiercely and thoroughly, especially after the death of their daughter. Unfortunately, this sometimes meant shouting before hugs. “We will have to show her you have learned your lesson.”

“How?”

“Go to the study and fetch the large yellow book on the third shelf next to the glass statuette in the shape of a triangle.”

“What’s in it?” Helena’s eyes lit up, her grandfather’s library was filled with exciting tomes and trinkets from a life in service to the Federation’s diplomatic corps. In that room, there were a million wonders to delight an inquisitive child. 

“Maps of marshland, slightly dated but still mostly correct. We will need to plan the best route if we are to get out there in good time tomorrow night.” He smiled. “After all, what good is watching a meteor shower on the monitor?”

The girl’s squeal of joy warmed the house more than any fire as she carefully placed the mug on the table and threw aside the blanket, her little body quickly forgetting the bone-deep chill as she barrelled down the corridor to the old man’s study, toward the promise of adventure. 

“Equip yourself with knowledge,” Helena whispered under her breath as she reached into the underside of the console, stabilising herself with her shoulders as another phaser strike shook the deck, her slender arms continuing to blindly search through the tightly packed clusters of wiring in the Kazon console. Finally, her hand alighted on a large cluster of connections and she tugged at the box, pulling it toward the opening where she could work on it with greater ease. A few circuit redirections later and the console above her chimed with frustration as the security lockouts gave way to her computer skills. “Thank you Lurian pirates of the Tollar system” she laughed, clambering back to her feet as another phaser blast thudded against the shields. 

She began probing systems, an enquiry as to shield strength here, a request for navigational data there, seeing what data she could gather as to the state of the ongoing engagement. Beyond the dark shadows of her room, she knew several Kazon raiders were engaged with Helios but until now the only information she had what she could quire through the square window out into the debris field.  Every request was answered instantly by the system, she could have been on the bridge instead of in a cell, the secrets of the raider group unfolding before her. Comm channels, shield frequencies, power co-efficients, all of it was proffered without protest. With a quick series of commands, she summoned sensor data, searching for any information on the state of Helios and was rewarded with the familiar catamaran shape of her home anchored at the centre of the debris field, orange lances of phaser fire reaching out in a myriad of directions. Four large brown shapes glowed dully as they danced circles around the ship, rattling Helios‘ cage as they struck and peeled away, hit-and-run tactics familiar to any pilot. The wolf pack was biting more and more aggressively as the telltale signs of hull damage stretched across the ship’s form. Around the injured starship bright blue flashes darted back and forth, swiping at the raiders with pulses of phaser fire and micro torpedoes, her sisters were relentless. No one messes with the Heliades. 

She tapped a short command into the console and called up the comm array, if she could connect to Helios she could relay them a vital advantage but cooler voices whispered in the corners of her mind. She assumed these Kazon were like the reports she half remembered, unsophisticated, uncomplicated but even the most junior of officers would quickly notice an unexpected comm channel and she lacked the tools to hide it effectively. She reached to her belt, a habit acquired from countless away missions, remembering moments later that her equipment had been confiscated. 

“How to send a message without using a comm array?” she mused, her fingers dancing idly over the badge on the shoulder of her flight suit, the arms tied around her waist in the heavy humidity of the ship. The roundel was simple enough, two rearing horses topped with the silhouettes of 4 Valkyries. “Valkyrie!” she shouted to an empty room, remembering the Maje mocking her with the presence of her own ship in the hanger bay. “How to send a message without the comm array? Use a different comm array.” Seconds later she was slipping out the doors, easily opened with her newly acquired security access and began quietly padding down the short corridor to the landing bay. The deck shuddered once more as weapons snapped at the small raider’s heels, unaware that an ally dwelt within. 

Oyvo grabbed at the edges of her console, the long curving shape bracing her into her seat as the world shook once gain. Next to her Eyma’s slender green hands punched in sensor variables furiously, the helmsman doing double time supporting the science team, her normal duties on hold whilst the ship was holding position. Another strike on the hull sent the deck rocking as a large red warning appeared on her screen. “Direct hit to starboard pontoon, shields are down, starboard dorsal generator is offline.”

“Disabled?” Bib shouted from the rear wall where he helped a shaken ensign to his feet. 

“Gone.” Oyvo replied, “Our shoulder is exposed. Armour will hold short term but not for long.”

“David?” Bib strode over to the science station where the green-shouldered lieutenant looked as though the world sat on his shoulders. He wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“We’re close, I just need more time, there’s so much data to go through.” The young man’s eyes were slightly glazed as his mind worked almost as fast as the ship’s computer, calculating and dismissing variables and options lightning-fast. “So close.”

“More time… more time…” Bib rubbed his temple as he returned back to the central podium. “Bahir, load proximity warheads into all tubes, lets see if we can’t knock them all back a bit. K’Sal have the Heliades take cover”

“I see your plan, sir. Loading into all tubes.” The Saurian’s brows were furrowed into a frown of focus as a thick river of crimson blood continued to slide down his forehead and through the river delta formed by his scaled skin. “All tubes standing by.”

“Fire.”

An array of miniature suns sprang from Helios‘ hull, momentarily illuminating the grey surface in an orange glow. Port and starboard launchers, nestled beneath the expansive windows of the ship’s twin lounges spat out a stream of single torpedoes whilst the hexagonal battle pod, held high between the ship’s catamaran pontoons, spewed forth a waterfall of white-blue warheads as the ship’s supply of quantum torpedoes came into play. In the emptiness of space, there was a gulp anticipating a silent thunderwave as timers in the warheads counted down. 

3.

2.

1.

Ignition. 

A white-hot wave screeched out from Helios’ position, a tidal wave of untamed energy charging in all directions as the torpedoes exploded in clusters of blinding light.  All four brown hulled Kazon raiders found themselves carried on the relentless wavefront forcing them to peel away lest they take the brunt of the impact. Two successfully turned headlong into the galloping energy wave; the other two, less nimble craft found themselves struck amidship, their paltry shields fizzling away as the furious kinetic energy beat its angry fists against the tan hull. Where four wolves had sought to maim the ship, two now remained circling warily, the explosive wave rattling the debris field, dark metallic flotsam rolling in all directions, as the wavefront continued echoing out into the system. 

“Targets Bravo and Delta took major hits, they are falling back. Echo and Foxtrot are holding outside weapons range, for now.” Bahir announced, a hesitant but satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

“Good, more time acquired. Headlines please everyone.” Bib flopped back into the centre chair, determined to take advantage of the respite, however short. 

“Shields are patchy and unstable. We’ve lost primaries & secondary emitters on the starboard side, we’re evacuating the starboard outer ring. All weapons are operational and standing by.” Bahir nodded as he lifted his sleeve to mop the slight crimson river that slowly flowed at his temple. 

“Heliades are all accounted for but they’re in bad shape. Circe is venting plasma, Merope has lost aft shielding, Astris is having intermittent power fluctuations.” K’Sal announced, the three women’s voices chattering in her ear. 

“Pull them back into the bay. We’ve knocked out two of the raiders, I won’t risk losing them now.” The Bajoran nodded her understanding before she began relaying commands for the fighter wing to return. “Oyvo, dare I ask.”

The Xindi woman turned at her console to face Bib, her dark eyes grimly accentuated by her knitted eyebrows. “Hull integrity is stable but low, SIFs are working overtime to keep us in one piece and we have breaches along the deck 4 port pontoon and deck 11 aft, shuttle bay three is vented. We have casualties.” She swallowed, her mouth dry as she prepared to answer the Commander’s unspoken question, “Initial numbers say twenty-five plus.” Her tone dropped low into the deck, “the bay was being used as emergency medical.”

Bib’s heart sank into the soles of his boots, the thought of those crewmembers unwillingly committed to the debris field because he had decided to stand and fight. He looked out at the viewscreen where the mouth of the Underspace portal remained clamped shut and felt his blood turn to ice. 

The moment of sadness was interrupted by the chirping of Oyvo’s console. “We are being hailed.” she announced, her voice thick with confusion.

“The Kazon?”

“No… Helena.”

Bib’s heart skipped a beat, they had found wreckage, they had consigned Helena to the stars. “Open a channel”.

The weary face of Commander Tyll appeared on the viewscreen, dismissing the object of their communal frustration. “Hi team. Miss me?” K’Sal let out an unwilling sharp intake of breath from the rear of the bridge, before quickly resuming her muttering, no doubt relaying the scene word for word to the Heliades squad. 

“Like my mother’s pot pie.” Bib offered his own, weary smile. “We found debris…”

“My Valkyrie is heavily damaged, a large chunk of the port wing appears to have been sheered off but I think she’s still viable. At least enough to get a few thousand meters.”

“Where are you?”

“A Kazon ship, presumably the leading one, about 3000 meters from your port stern.”

“How do we get you back?”

“I figured I’d blast the bay door and fly super fast?” she reached out of frame to a console, causing a large bruise to be revealed across her temple as her hair fell to the side. “I don’t return empty-handed either. Oyvo, incoming.”

The operations officer looked down, her mouth still slightly aghast at Helena’s miraculous return to the world of the living, to see a wealth of data pouring into her screens. “I’ve got… direct access to the Kazon ship systems. How did you even…?”

“I guess I was listening in those delta quadrant coding classes after all.” Helena began reaching behind her to secure her harness for flight. “We’ll have to be quick, that trick with the torpedoes knocked them for six but once they realise we have access they’ll be back with a vengeance.” She placed her helmet over her head, the visor lighting up with a small HUD. “Shall we? I’m ready for a drink on the Sundeck.” 

“Just take a breath Helena, we don’t have anywhere to go yet, the portal is still stuck shut. David, please tell me you have solved it.” Bib looked pleadingly to the lieutenant.

The man turned from his console, his dark eye sockets and sloped shoulders answering Bib’s question before he could open his mouth. “There’s just so many variables and between its inherent instability and the weird tetryon interference we would need hours worth of sensor data.” David sighed, his already fragile hopes shattered on the floor. 

“Do you mean like the sensor data these raiders have collected over the years?” Helena offered from her hiding place in the dim hanger bay. 

David’s eyes suddenly turned into saucers as the trill woman offered some proverbial glue for his broken hopes. “Exactly like that.”

Oyvo began tapping at her cracked console, her thin fingers spinning a digital thread “Plugging in Kazon sensor data.” 

“This is amazing, this is data going back decades.” A ping emanated from his corner console. “I think we might have it.” David’s fingers were dancing across his console with increasing speed. “I’ll just need a few minutes with Nakashri to get the deflector prepped.”

On the viewscreen, Helena was suddenly bathed in red light as a siren sounded in the background, a sharp squeel of a bullhorn cutting through the air indicating her subterfuge had been discovered, as had her absence from her cell. 

“They are attempting to cut the link.” Oyvo announced, confirming their suspicions. 

“Permission to fly fast?” Helena asked, clicking a few switches and bringing the Valkyrie to life. 

“Permission to fly super fast.” Bib confirmed. ”K’sal…”

“Heliades are moving into position to provide escort.” the Bajoran woman confirmed from the rear of the room. 

“I’m not sure I gave that order.” Bib raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t believe they asked for it.” K’Sal smiled wryly.

“Right Bahir, full sentinel protocols, let’s have everything pointing outwards, start lobbing chairs from the lounge if needs be. Oyvo please evacuate all exterior sections and pull everyone back inside, I expect we’re going to have a few more breaches. Eyma be ready with impulse engines to move as soon as the portal is open. David, deflector, yesterday. K’sal get those doors open and have emergency teams standing by, get those wonderful women back inside.”

For the first time in several minutes, there was a warm swell across the bridge, a strength renewed as hope was reignited aboard Helios.

“Captain’s log, USS Helios, Stardate 78790. I am lucky to be able to record this entry, Helios was almost lost to us and it was only through the dedicated work of our crew that she found her way home to the Alpha quadrant. In the interests of clarity, I will be including extracts from the ship’s First Officer, Commander Biban Th’erhilnon as the officer in command during this period.” Tanek took a bite of a crunchy cookie, allowing the crumbs to fall on his uniformed chest. “10 days ago the ship and crew were deployed to the Badlands to act as a technical platform for a new sensor system being developed by the Corps of Engineers, during these experiments a spatial anomaly was encountered, a portal that we now know led to the Underspace network.” Tanek motioned with his hand to Bib, indicating he should continue as the Captain lifted another couple of cookies from the jar and looked on. 

“The transit was…” Bib paused, looking out through the ready room’s windows to the stars that slid by, slower than normal due to Helios’ heavily damaged warp drive. “… rough. Whilst we didn’t suffer casualties the ship was heavily damaged and several systems disabled including main sensors and the matter-antimatter power systems. It was at this time Commander Helena Tyll was recorded as MIA, her Valkyrie being separated from the ship during transit. Computer pause.” Bib turned back to Tanek. “Do you really need me to do this sir? I’ll do it all at DS47 when we debrief.”

Tanek brushed the cookie crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “Record it for later Bib. By the time we get to DS47 your thoughts may have changed. Your heart may have hardened. Record it now whilst it’s still raw.” Tanek smiled paternally, “Computer resume.”

Bib sighed, and picking a cookie from the pot, leaned back into his chair. “We elected to launch the Heliades squadron alongside several runabouts to provide remote sensor feeds, the main array forced offline due to the polarising effect of the portal. What we saw was jaw-dropping, a debris field the size of a small starbase, a conservative estimate of at least a hundred different vessels from over 20 different species, some of which were not known to the Federation. All of them appeared to have suffered through the transit, but Helios remained in one piece and after identifying a safe harbour from the ongoing EM radiation bombardment from a nearby star, we limped through the system on impulse power.” Bib’s mouth went dry. “By the time we arrived in the safety of the tidally locked planet’s shadow, the Heliades squadron and Commander Anyok had identified wreckage belonging to Helena Tyll’s vessel and she was declared KIA. It was also at this time that Ensign How identified our location on the edge of the Beta quadrant, on the distant trailing edge of the galaxy. It became clear that return via warp was not an option and I instructed the science teams to find a way to reopen the portal.” 

A comfortable silence wedged itself as they silently munched, reflecting on the Commander’s story. Tanek broke the silence first “The Kazon?” 

“Whilst in orbit of the marshy planet the crew had begun to call Helike, after a drowned city on Earth, we viewed several torpedoes, launched from a wrecked Devore vessel, exploding in low atmosphere. It was my choice to dispatch Anyok and Theta Squad to stop the weapons fire and secure the ship from possibly explosive consequences. Whilst on the planet they found a village of Kazon who informed us they had been lost there after travelling through the portal, they also informed us the wrecks we found we the remnants of others who hadn’t been so lucky.” Bib’s skin turned dark blue as he became flustered with anger, he continued to beat himself up that he had been so blind to the Kazon’s deceit.

“But that wasn’t the truth was it?”

“No. We attempted to return through the portal with haste after discovering a large amount of tetryon interference was destabilising the Underspace access.” Bib’s visage was overcast as he remembered what had come next. “The Kazon raiders attacked us as we attempted to undertake detailed scans with our limited sensor systems to calculate the appropriate warp field. After consultation, I opted to remain in a fixed position to improve our chances of identifying the field frequency. It was my choice and what followed was my responsibility.” Tanek nodded for him to continue, this was a struggle every prospective captain had to go through. “We took heavy damage and casualties during the combat but discovered Commander Tyll to be alive aboard the lead raider. It was through her heroic efforts that we gained access to the Kazon sensor data and completed our research into the required field frequencies.”

Another silence hovered between the two, tears edging at Bib’s eyes, saying what they both knew to be true was almost too hard. “With the data, we re-opened the portal long enough to pass through and return to the Underspace network. Lieutenant Mitchell was able to retrace our route via the plasma remnants drawn in from the Badlands during our outward transit and we returned to the Alpha quadrant to find Captain Tanek and the Starfleet search ship.”  

“With the help of the Rattigan, Helios has been secured and we are en route to DS47.” Tanek lifted a pair of glasses from a discreet shelf beneath his desk and poured a tipple of blue liquid into each before pushing one towards the Andorian across the table. “Unfortunately-”

“-Unfortunately…” Bib interrupted, Tanek gave the man the floor with a nod“ Commander Tyll did not make the return transit, her ship was heavily damaged and she was destroyed by the gravimetric forces of Underspace.”

“We commend Helena to the stars she loved. Fair winds and following seas.” the two men lifted their glasses in salute. “End Log.”