An eerie silence drowned darkening halls across multiple levels, drifting on the entrails of the gaseous clouds engulfing the abandoned corridors of the Quasaris Biofabrication Center. The dying embers of light from the Draxari star penetrated the windows of the science facility during its final rotation of the day, providing solace for only a brief time – for when the darkness came, the silence evaporated.

A clattering in the distance. Frantic, heavy footsteps and panicked breathing of an exhausted figure seeking shelter. Rattling at door after door in her search for refuge, thwarted by mechanical locking mechanisms at every turn. A creak from the final door caused a sharp intake of breath from the lone figure, and a moment of hesitancy. A shrill, atmosphere-piercing shriek caused her eyes to widen and her heart to quicken its beats. She had no time to spare.

Barging her way into science lab three, she made straight for the only computer terminal to show any sign of life. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen as she input her command codes, perhaps for the final time. Another scream in the distance caused her head to spin as if it were on a pivot. For the briefest of moments, she held her breath, until blood-curdling cries from a colleague bought her a momentary reprieve. A final tapping of the keys and a voice shook the woman.

“Enter voice authorisation.”

Using her hands placed carefully at opposite ends of the desk to keep her propped up, the scientist lowered her head, allowing herself a brief smile of relief.

“Authorization Orta, Alpha-Six-Seven,” she gave a hushed reply, eyes trained on the screen again, watching and waiting. Once the computer indicated her code had been accepted, she input her final set of orders.

“Computer,” she whispered, “initiate facility-wide lockdown and send distress signal gamma three. Contain all breaches and seal blast doors. Activate sterilisation protocols on my mark. Five… four… three…”

A primal roar shook the walls of the compound, halting the woman dead in her tracks. She spun on her heels, looking for cover as the lurking silhouette of a behemoth-like creature filled the wall outside the lab. He was coming.

Her eyes darted around the lab, finding the only cover she could at short notice. Another roar and she collapsed behind an upturned desk, pulling her knees to her chest and holding them tightly. Her tear-stained cheeks drained as the creature’s shadow loomed large in the room beyond. When it finally seemed like the creature had passed her by, she allowed herself the composure to complete her task.

“Two… one… mark.”

An explosion in front of her saw rubble and debris strewn across the lab, the beast bursting through the wall with a deafening roar. And then silence. Not just in the lab, or even on that level, but across the entire facility. Once home to over 600 hundred of the brightest minds in Draxari society, the lab had fallen eerily silent, and dark.

A sole red flicker, the only light in the lab, with words on a console screen signalling her mission was complete.

“Distress Signal Transmitted.”

Shrill. Repetitive. Annoying. Necessary.

Spinning on her heels, weapon held aloft as her eyes scanned the dark interior, the woman waited for the floating orbs to finish their countdown and change to her nominated colour. Each frustrating beep counted her down to the next…

A beam of compressed orange energy spewed from her weapon, impacting the orb approximately eight feet above her head. She was back on her heels in an instant, scouring for the next opportunity to show off. For now, she was still in the lead.

Beside her, her brown-skinned, large-eared colleague with the most peculiar green orbs for eyes stayed motionless. Only when he got the ‘sixth sense’ that the orb was going to change colour did he swiftly kick into gear, planting his left foot and pivoting until he shot into the sky and collected another point. Stalemate. Again.

The woman could feel her tension levels rising, giving her colleague the bombastic side eye she was becoming increasingly well known for these days. Shit… the countdown! She’d got so wrapped up in watching him that she missed her cue, shooting aimlessly and missing her target.

Sudden death was over after that, her colleague failing to miss his target and registering the fifteenth and final point, much to her chagrin.

“Perhaps you would like to rest now?” Lieutenant Or’uil suggested, holstering his sidearm and holding his arm out towards the holographic arch that appeared.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Peri frowned, hand gripping her weapon tightly as she took in a few deep breaths. “Yeah, you’d like to be able to brag about beating your successor. You know, I bet these big ol’ green eyes of yours give you an advantage…” she holstered her weapon and put her hands on her hips, “…an unfair advantage.”

Or’uil, to his credit, simply cocked his head and considered the Commander’s words for a moment. “Forgive me, Commander, but for a moment it sounded as if you may be accusing me of cheating?” his eyes twitched as he straightened up again. “Commander Noli always assured me that being part of Starfleet meant you trusted, and were trusted by, your colleagues…”

“She’s absolutely right,” Peri instantly regretted her outburst, called out (rightly so) by the younger man. “I apologise Or’uil. It’s not been a great few days, but I shouldn’t take that out on you,” her expression changed as she spoke, lowering her head and choosing her words far more wisely.

“One does not need eyes like mine to see that you are struggling,” Or’uil confided in the woman, taking a step to the bench behind them and taking a seat.

Peri followed him, sitting alongside the man, a smirk and a shake of the head accompanying his words. He was right; she was finding life aboard Lakota significantly challenging, mundane even, in comparison to the lifestyle she’d lived aboard Starbase Bravo. “I’m finding the monotony to be stifling. Even on our quietest days, Bravo would have something going on,” she whined, “but here? We’ve done nothing for weeks. How do you career starship people not get bored?”

Or’uil cocked his head and twitched. “Life on a starship comes with its challenges, but you will learn to value these moments because they are often fleeting. The next crisis is often just around the corner,” he advised her, with all the wisdom of an elder statesman. “You will not find another member of the crew who is not valuing the lull. You must remember the situations many of them have faced in the last six months.”

Again, the young Ungeat was correct. In the last six months, Starfleet, and this crew, had experienced war and destruction on a scale that had not been seen since the Dominion War of the seventies. Whether it was in the Deneb conflict or during the Frontier Day disaster, everyone had earned the break they were now enjoying. She was just being selfish, and it had taken some truth bombs from the Ungeat to bring her back to reality.

Craning her neck, the brunette looked the Ungeat in the eye and smiled, before playfully nudging him with her shoulder. “You’re a wise man, Or’uil. This crew is lucky to have you,” she smiled.

“I appreciate your kind words, Commander. We are also lucky to have you,” he reminded her. She, of course, came with experience and skills no one else on the crew did, which was why her assignment had been a no-brainer, at least as far as he was concerned. Any member of the crew who enhanced their operational capacity was worthy of a place.

“Listen,” she turned her body to give him her full attention, “I never thanked you, you know? For stepping aside for me when the Captain brought me aboard. Not many would have willingly given up a prestigious position for someone else.”

“A famous Vulcan once explained that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one,” the Ungeat rose from his seat and respectfully nodded. “Your presence here is best for the ship, the Captain, and the crew. I will always support such things,” he advised her in his typical no-nonsense manner.

Slapping her knees, the Bajoran pushed herself to her feet and tugged on her uniform jacket. She was lucky, she needed to start seeing that. And she would, with the help of crewmates like Or’uil.

Smiling, she drew her phaser and waggled it at him. “One more round?”

“I will endeavour to give my big ol’ green eyes a rest,” he mocked her, causing the Bajoran to chuckle as they took their stance in the middle of the play arena. Or’uil had just drawn his phaser, ready to start the round, when the game paused.

“All senior staff report to the bridge,” the voice of the ship’s XO rang through the phaser range, “immediately.”

Emerging from the turbo lift at the back of Lakota’s bridge, the ship’s executive officer crept towards the command chair in the centre of the room, currently occupied by her Bajoran kin wearing the yellow of Starfleet’s operations division. In any other circumstances, an officer being asleep on watch would have been an offence worthy of significant punishment, but with the ship having been docked for a significant period, it wasn’t like anything of interest was happening. So, she had to make her own fun wherever possible, even in these early hours. And her new friend was an easy target.

Reaching out to the arm of the command chair, Noli twitched for a split second as the prone figure threatened to stir, but once she was content her fellow officer wasn’t about to wake, she took the opportunity to strike. As finger tip made contact with the control panel on the arms chair, the red alert klaxon rang out across the bridge causing the chair’s occupant to wake with a start.

Heart racing, breath caught in her throat and her limbs flailing uncontrollably, Peri Anya almost fell from the chair. Only a last-minute grasp of the cushioned arms on either side stopped her from sliding to the floor in a lifeless heap. An unrepeatable ancient Bajoran expletive left her lips, one that would have caused an Orion brute to blush. It was only when she saw her Bajoran brethren practically doubled over in fits of laughter that she knew what had happened.

Pushing herself to her feet, Peri tugged on her uniform jacket, smoothed out the crumples and lifted her hands to her hair to restore the pristine slick and pony that she was known for. Her face had soured and she scowled at her friend. “For a senior officer, you are such a child…” the tactical chief scolded the XO, pushing past her and making her way to the tactical station on the forward port bulkhead.

“Well!” Noli spat out between deep breaths while trying to compose herself. “Serves you right for falling asleep on the job. Imagine if I’d been the Captain,” her eyes widened at the thought of the Trill returning to the bridge while one of her most senior officers was asleep on the job. Giarvar she could placate when she’d served with him briefly on the Buran, she’d had no such luck with Nazir, not even with the bond they’d started to form in recent months.

“Yeah, yeah, point made…” Peri waved off the XO’s concern with a degree of nonchalance, but deep down she was chastising herself for being so stupid. “It’s just… well, you know!” She spun on her chair to look back at Noli.

“Yeah, I get it. Being stuck on the night shift can be dull at the best of times, but when we’re sat in dock it is even worse,” Noli nodded along and could commiserate with her friend for she, just like Peri, hated being in dock. Thankfully, her new role as permanent XO afforded her the right to make sure she never saw a night shift again. Peri, however, was not so lucky. “But you know, like I do, part of your being offered this job was that you had to log some more bridge hours. Starbases are very different to starships.”

Ugh. She hated it when Noli had a point. As part of her first posting as a command-level officer, she had been required to log nearly fifty hours of command time on the bridge, but with the ship in starbase that was proving… frustrating.

“I just wish we’d be out there, among the stars once again,” she sighed wistfully, looking at the viewscreen. Where there were once stars streaking by, starbase bulkheads kept them enclosed from the excitement of space.

A shrill beeping from Ops drew their attention, and Noli took a few steps towards the unmanned station. “You may get your wish,” she frowned, looking at the console readout before jerking her head and gesturing for Peri to join her.

Once the darker-haired Bajoran reviewed the data, the two stood bolt-upright and looked at each other. Neither could truly believe what they were reading.

“Find the Captain,” Noli directed her counterpart, “she’ll want to see this…”

For the majority of Lakota’s time in spacedock, the days had blended into one, with her crew growing weary of the monotony of day-to-day routine. Today was not one of those days. News had broken on the FNS earlier that morning of the chaos engulfing the former Demilitarised Zone, just days after the reported destruction of Outpost C-91. A skirmish had broken out in the former DMZ between several different factions, it seemed, with the starship Arcturus caught in the crossfire during the performance of her duties. While this might have made the airwaves during a slow news cycle, that wasn’t the development that had gripped Starfleet. Mere months after the Frontier Day debacle, a new threat was rising in a long-since-forgotten territory. If you could call it new, anyway. Perhaps ‘revived’ would be better terminology for a group calling itself the Maquis. And true to fashion, and the historical data recordings nearly three decades old, they were still up to their old tricks.

On this particular occasion, they’d broadcast their warning far and wide, for all and sundry to hear: condemnation of the Cardassians and their continued oppression of worlds in the region; righteous indignation towards Starfleet for a perceived inability to protect worlds and colonists. Their most scathing comments were saved for the True Way movement, whom they accused of some of the most heinous crimes imaginable. In a move to try and legitimise their actions, the New Maquis (how original) had released evidence they claimed supported their viewpoint and proved that the True Way was responsible for the destruction of C-91. While the veracity of their claims had yet to be determined, what was clear was that the Maquis were here, and here to stay. Again. And the threat to Starfleet and Federation personnel in and around the DMZ was real. A little too real for Starfleet’s liking.

Upon receiving word that the new Task Force Commander had scheduled an impromptu visit had put Keziah on edge, and that, in turn, put her people on edge. She now found herself standing motionless, twiddling her thumbs at the center of transporter room one, waiting for his arrival. Once the rematerialisation process was complete, she took in a deep breath and stepped forward. There, standing across from her, was yet another new Task Force Commander, in his pristine uniform, with his pristine hair. He was the third commander of Seventeen since she had been with the squadron, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long this one would be in post before she had to welcome another new commander aboard. For now though, she’d make him as welcome as she could.

“Lakota welcomes you, Captain,” she smiled, stepping forward and offering a hand in greeting to the honoured guest.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” Callen’s voice softened with sincerity as he reached out to clasp her hand, his grip firm yet respectful. His eyes, alight with admiration, met hers briefly before he spoke. “I cannot express enough gratitude for this chance to finally meet you in person.” 

Pausing, a subtle grin tugged at the corners of his lips he then added, “And I must say, the Lakota looks almost as impressive as its esteemed captain.” 

“Oh please,” the Trill scoffed as she grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him from the transporter room. “I’m too old for that nonsense. But, the pleasure is mine. And you’re right, Lakota is impressive. She’s not quite Hathaway impressive, but then we’re still getting used to each other,” she winked, responding to his earlier statement as they began the trek down the corridor.

“Ah, yes, Hathaway, of course, my apologies for the inconvenience,” Callen said, his brows furrowing, he hesitated, then continued, “But if it offers any reassurance, Captain Romaes is meticulously tending to her needs.” 

His gaze lingered on her, a calculated pause as he observed her reaction. Callen’s subtle discomfort-inducing tactic had been refined during his tenure at Starfleet Intelligence. He understood the power of creating unease to elicit desired responses. In his mind, it wasn’t about making friends; it was about ensuring control and effectiveness in every interaction.

Nazir, however, had multiple lifetimes of experience behind her and could gauge from his expression that he was looking for a reaction from her. The question was whether she should play along or not. She could let him have his fun, assert his dominance in his new role, or she could put him in his place on her ship. “Captain Romaes is incredibly lucky to have received my blessing,” the Trill smiled in a bid to disarm whatever potential conflict could be brewing. “I wouldn’t hand over my crew and ship to just anyone, you know. Especially after all we went through in the Deneb sector and the weeks that followed,” she stopped in her tracks and ran a hand across a pristine bulkhead, her words echoing in the empty, hallowed halls.

A grin spread across Callen’s face as his gaze met Captain Nazir’s. There was a familiarity in their exchange, a silent acknowledgement. He had pored over every detail of her past exploits, every report and dossier, and seeing her now, she didn’t disappoint.

But as she mentioned the Deneb conflict, a shadow crossed Callen’s expression, a flicker of concern hidden behind his smile. Quickly, he decided to steer the conversation away from the formalities and towards the task at hand.

“Ah, yes,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of regret. “It’s unfortunate. But I suspect this will not be the last time we relive old times in the near future.” With a subtle motion, he reached for a PADD, passing it to her with a measured gesture.

Taking ownership of the data PADD, the Trill scanned her eyes over the document, nodding and letting out slight grunts in all the right places as she devoured its contents. “We received the morning intelligence updates on the region,” she told, gesturing for them to continue into the turbo lift nearby. “What do you make of this claim about the True Way being responsible for C-91?” she asked, leading them into the turbo car.

Callen’s grin spread across his face, a knowing glint in his eyes. He followed Nazir into the lift, his gaze locking onto hers with a hint of amusement. 

“You and I, Captain, we’re well aware that’s not their modus operandi,” he remarked, his voice laced with confidence.

“Cardassians? Accused of the cold-blooded murder of Federation citizens? We’ve never seen that before,” she scoffed, looking to the ceiling and letting out an enormous sigh. “But then, people on our side have been guilty of the same in the past.”

“Indeed, Captain,” Callen acknowledged with a subtle nod, his tone carrying a note of agreement, “it does bear resemblance to the methods of some old acquaintances of ours.”

He pointed towards the PADD as he continued with a thoughtful expression, “Take a look at the next file. It might shed some light on this.”

“Son of a bitch…” she whispered as she read along, shaking her head and grunting in all the right places, only stopping when the turbo lift arrived at the bridge. Leading the TFCO into the command center with arms held out, the Trill smiled proudly.

“She’s not as sterile and shiny as the rest of the ship, but I didn’t want her to be. I want my people working comfortably up here, but I’m sure I’ll be overruled one day and we’ll have to swap out the carpet eventually,” she laughed, looking down at their feet.

Surveying the expansive bridge, Callen’s gaze swept across its impressive features, he remained unfazed, having encountered worse in his duties. To him, functionality trumped extravagance; as long as the task was accomplished, he mused, they could all be wandering about in nothing but socks without a concern in the world.

“Welcome to Lakota, Captain…”

“Captain Callen Varro, this is my first officer, Noli Auru,” Nazir welcomed her XO into the conversation, as Noli advanced and offered her hand. “Commander Noli, Captain Varro is our new Task Force Commander,” the Trill added, knowing full well her Number One knew who he was, but trying to make him feel welcome aboard her ship.

Callen inclined his head slightly, a subtle gesture of acknowledgment. “Commander,” he began, his voice tinged with warmth and respect, “your efforts on Uviri spoke volumes.”

“It was a significant team effort sir,” Noli smiled, looking proudly around the bridge crew, then back to the TFCO. “How can we help the Task Force today, Captain?” she inquired.

Callen’s lips curled into a gentle smile, but his eyes betrayed little emotion as he spoke. “That is something which Captain Nazir and myself are about to discuss in the observation lounge, Commander,” he said, his voice steady.

In a subtle shift, his posture straightened, and his gaze sharpened. With a decisive gesture, he took the lead, his steps purposeful as he guided Nazir towards the lounge. 

“It is that way, isn’t it, Captain?” he asked, his tone carrying a confident assurance.

The observation lounge on Lakota didn’t get much use these days, thanks to the StratOps suite that gave the bridge crew a space to work and strategize which meant they didn’t have to be away from the bridge for any length of time. Nazir couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in the lounge, let alone used it for an actual meeting. “Please,” she smiled, nodding at his inference and holding a hand out for him to lead the way.

A short while later, Callen emerged from the observation lounge, his steps measured, betraying a hint of lingering contemplation. As he crossed the threshold into the corridor, his breath hitched momentarily, his chest rising with a deep inhalation that seemed to anchor him in the present moment.

Turning to face Commander Noli, Callen met her gaze, finding her eyes fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. “Commander Noli,” he began, his tone measured but urgent, “Captain Nazir requires your presence. She’s awaiting you in the Lounge, ready to brief you on the latest developments.”

“Thank you Captain,” Noli nodded, heading for the door before stopping in her tracks. Looking back at him, she felt the need to say something reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, sir, you can rest assured we’ll do our absolute best to deal with it.” 

“Good,” he responded with a nod, a thoughtful pause punctuating his words. Then, turning his attention back to Commander Noli, he continued, “And Commander, if you could kindly inform the Captain for me… let her know that I’ll be staying aboard a little while longer. You know, just in case there’s any more information needed.”

“As you wish,” Noli nodded, then crossed the threshold to the briefing room.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?”

Emerging from the turbo lift car on the starboard aft bulkhead, Peri and Or’uil were in deep conversation until they noticed the Captain disappearing into the turbo lift on the opposite side of the bridge, deep in conversation with a dark-haired man neither had any recollection of. Noticing the rest of the senior staff heading for StratOps, the two yellow-clad officers made their way down the small steps to the mission operations area at the back of the bridge. 

Falling into step beside the Flight Operations officer, Peri leaned in and ‘psst’ into his ear. “Henry,” she whispered, “who was that with the Captain?”

“Brass,” Flyboy responded flatly, then elaborated further as they reached their position in the huddle. “New Task Force Commander I think.”

Before the conversation could continue, Commander Noli stepped up to the plate. “Alright people,” she began, “as you probably just saw, Captain Nazir and I just met with the new Task Force Commander, who was here to update us on the developing situation in the former DMZ.” She turned to the wall-mounted controls and the massive MSD on the aft bulkhead changed instantly, becoming a 2D representation of the former demilitarised zone. “We don’t know a lot, but we do know more than the FNS is reporting.”

Almost as if on cue, the screen changed to reflect the many news reports spreading across the Federation: images of wounded people; ageing ships in combat; officials giving speeches, both Starfleet and Cardassian alike. Even a timeline of historical events from decades ago ticked away on the right-hand side of the screen while the staff watched and listened to the news reports for several minutes.

‘Naturally, the region is still considered Federation territory, but it is getting increasingly common for Cardassian vessels to cross the border and deal with developing situations with their own particular brand of justice,” the Bajoran eventually frowned, folding her arms across her chest, glancing at the news reports.

“Well, we should all be terrified for the people out there then,” Doctor Zinn remarked, leaning on the back of a chair at one of the consoles. “Most of us here know exactly what their type of justice means.”

His words were met with a chorus of hushed words until Noli stepped forward and tried to placate the staff. “Starfleet is not going to let anything happen to these people, not if the Captain has anything to say about the matter.”

“And what does she have to say on this, exactly?” Lieutenant Mora, the Bolian from engineering, chimed in.

“That we are Starfleet officers and we will do our duty to protect the people of the DMZ,” a stern, familiar voice sounded from behind the group. Parting like the proverbial Red Sea of Earth, Fleet Captain Nazir walked through the group and stood beside the taller Noli, a quick glare at Mora for dramatic effect along the way. “The situation is a powder keg. If we go in too heavy-handed, we’ll force worlds into the waiting arms of the Detapa Council. But if we standby and do nothing, people are going to continue to get hurt,” she told, then turned to the console, tapping away.

Once complete, she swapped places with the Bajoran and drew their attention to the larger screen again. “This is Quasaris,” she told them, “It is located approximately a lightyear from the Cardassian border and, like so many other planets, has been largely left alone for the last couple of decades. Until Starfleet received a coded distress signal from the planet yesterday.”

“Quasaris?” Lakota‘s Orion scientist, Teyahna, stepped forward at the mention of the planet’s name. “There’s a research facility there. We’re not talking anything big or special, or at least we weren’t a couple of decades ago,” she told, eliciting nods from her medical colleague.

“That’s right,” the Deltan, Zinn, agreed. “Last I heard they were working on eradicating the Dengolin fever that had been ravaging one of the Cardassian-occupied colonies.”

Nazir nodded along and refined the map on the screen to pinpoint the facility’s location. “It’s the facility that sent the distress call. The nature of their distress is unknown, but the fact it is on an encoded frequency and not transmitted freely suggests something is afoot,” the Captain surmised.

“Captain, I’ve been out there. I’ve spent time in the DMZ. I’d wager all the gold pressed latinum in my footlocker that the colonists are up to something they don’t want to draw the Cardassian’s attention to,” Peri suggested, looking at the map. “They aren’t far from Cardassian patrol routes on their side of the border,” she told, pointing out to waypoint markers.

“These people are scientists, Commander. They’re not criminals,” Zinn rebutted, but to no avail.

“Come on, Doctor. We’ve all read the recent reports, and we all know the history. The people out there have always preferred to keep Starfleet out of their business. They’ve probably had no choice but to reach out this time,” Noli interjected with furrowed brows.

“These people are still Federation citizens,” Or’uil said, offering his opinion on the matter. “Whether they want Starfleet there or not, we must investigate the distress call,” the young Ungeat refocused the conversation in a way that drew a smile from the Captain.

“Or’uil is right,” Nazir nodded, calling that particular part of the discussion to a halt. “Captain Varro has ordered the squadron to the region. Buran and Osiris will officially be on patrol in the area, but, unofficially, they have orders to support any action we undertake.” With that, the Captain zoomed the display out so the border could be more visible. “Buran will patrol the border here,” she pointed, “whilst Osiris will be here, providing supplies to the planet and monitoring the border for signs of life. She’ll relay any movements to us.”

“That’s going to calm the tension,” Zinn responded sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest.

“We have every right to be there,” Nazir reminded the Chief Medical Officer, turning her attention fully from the screen. “This is Federation space, and while it might piss off the locals, or antagonise the neighbours…” she smirked, “frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Laughing, her arms folded across her chest, Teyahna playfully nudged the Deltan in the shoulder. “That told you,” she grinned.

“Number One,” the Captain took a deep breath and looked at her able deputy. “See to the final preparations. Henry, we’ll get underway within the hour. Put together a flight plan and send it to the squadron. Lieutenant Or’uil, get me a secure channel with the squadron commanders,” the Trill instructed. “They’re going to need to be filled in…”

Captain's log, supplemental.

 

Lakota Squadron has arrived at the former Demilitarised Zone. Each vessel in the group has taken up position at prearranged coordinates and our missions are underway. Lakota is continuing at impulse power to the Quasaris system. We've been transmitting coded hails every ten minutes since we entered comm range an hour ago, but we have received no response.

 

As expected, the Osiris has already been on the horn and informed us that our presence has been noticed by the Cardassians; a lone Galor-class cruiser is heading our way, watching our every move…

“She's about two lightyears away and closing, but so far they're sticking to their side of the border,” Lieutenant Mitchell pulled up the section of the map on his console's display panel, identifying the advancing Cardassian vessel and its location in comparison to their ship.

“Cardassians aren't known for a strict adherence to the border in this area,” Noli mused, arms folded across her chest with her right hand caressing her chin as she regarded the display closely. “They know that we know that they know we're here…”

“They're flirting with us," Nazir smirked beside Noli, hands clasped to her hips. She shook her head slowly and walked away, ascending the ramp back to her chair. “They won't do anything until they see that they have a moral imperative to offer their assistance,” she told as she assumed her chair once again.

Noli stood silent, intently glaring at the display until she caught Henry watching her out of the corner of her eye. Taking a deep breath, she patted the flyboy on the shoulder and turned on her heels. “Peri?” she called out.

Frustration had crept up on the Bajoran tactical chief after the fourth failed attempt at communicating with the planet. Attempt five yielded the same, fruitless outcome. Whatever had occurred down there, it had become increasingly obvious that there was no one able to answer their hails - perhaps no one left alive at all - and that worried her. “Nothing…” she answered the XO's query.

“Sensors haven't detected any life signs,” Teyahna called from the port side of the bridge, “but I am detecting low levels of ionised radiation. High enough that they might mask any life signs down there,” the Orion scientist elaborated, spinning in her chair to look across at the Captain.

Perched on the edge of her seat, hands grasping the armrests on either side, the Captain pursed her painted lips. “High enough to cause any issues for an away team?” she eventually asked of her trusted scientific advisor.

“At these levels, my people can provide an inoculation so that the team won't have to wear those ridiculous EV suits,” Doctor Zinn said. A quiet day in sickbay had provided him with the perfect opportunity to escape and log some more duty hours on the bridge, something he had to do if he ever wanted to get Noli off his back. She'd done nothing but nag him for months about the need to be present for briefings, strategy sessions and mission developments, so here he was. And now, he was second-guessing himself, as the crew often did (or so he had noticed anyway). “Although we don't know what has occurred down there, so it might be more prudent to stick to the tried and tested…”

“Number One,” Nazir nodded to her first officer. “Gather who you need and take a shuttle down there. Search the facility, ascertain what's occurred and locate any survivors,” her tone was far more serious than it had earlier been, a clear reflection of the situation that had presented itself.

Noli nodded and was just making a beeline for the turbolift when she stopped and smirked at the Captain. “You know,” she began, “you'll have to trust the transporters again sometime, right?”

Following the shambles of Frontier Day and the startling revelation that their enemy had utilised transporter technology to enable them to assimilate thousands of the Federation's youngest officers, Nazir had sworn never to use the transporters again. Even after reassurances from Admiral Crusher, Commander D'Orr's implementation of the transporter protocols and the testing of the system by her own trusted people, she still wouldn't entertain the idea.

“Not even the President herself could convince me to use those things again anytime soon," the Trill shook her head in firm protest.

Sensing that this was, for now, a battle that she was losing, a smile crept upon the XO's lips. “Very well Captain,” she held her hands up in defeat. “Peri, Zinn,” she looked at the two senior officers and pointed to the turbo lift she soon entered. Tapping the commbadge on her left breast, she activated the shipwide comm as the doors closed behind her and her away team.

“Hazard team Alpha to the shuttlebay."

Hazard Team Alpha had been established by Captain Nazir in the days following her arrival aboard the Lakota, a sign of her trying to ‘get with the times’ as more and more commanders across the fleet took the initiative to try and further protect their crew after the events of the last year. She'd got the idea from Captain Theodoras aboard the Atlantis, although the team aboard Lakota was no comparison to their experienced counterparts who made up the ‘Fighting Myrmidons’. They were specialists though; each member of the five-person team was a specialist in their own right, and each represented a different division from across the ship.

Ensign Dazia Kiaol, a Trill who had boarded the ship as a fresh start following Frontier Day, was a damage control specialist from engineering and had been hand-picked by Lieutenant Prida before she departed on her secondment to the Hathaway. Nikti Keesa, a junior lieutenant, was a medical officer with a background in genetics and was one of two Orion's aboard the ship, keen to dispel some of the many myths about her species. Kivoss Ch'rhaatris, an Andorian weapons expert, had been assigned to the team by Commander Peri as an intervention program following several reports of tardiness on duty - a tour under the XO would solve that particular issue, and quickly. He was also the only male on the team, which riled the chauvinist significantly. Then there was little Natalia Donovan, the youngest of the group but talented nonetheless. She'd been headhunted for membership on the team by Commander Teyahna in an effort to get her involved in matters beyond her xenobiology lab. And all were led by the XO, who had taken on the leadership of the group as a way to try and enhance her skillset and reputation. She was one of the newer XO's in the fleet, but she had ambition, and those ambitions could only be helped by leading such a group.

So far, the team had been subjected to nothing more than training and instruction by the XO and her band of instructors (namely the senior staff in any capacity Noli required), so receiving the call to report to the shuttlebay had piqued the curiosity and excitement of all on the team. Except for Natalia, who was busy pacing at the back of the shuttlebay, chewing on her fingernails.

Each member of the group had reported promptly, and before the XO arrived to brief them on their endeavour. They carried equipment specific to their specialism, so as to make it easier to carry out their duty. Although the enormous phaser rifle that Kivoss carried nearly measured the same as Natalia in height (and probably weight) and was probably not the smartest of choices. Still, each member of the team had been given license to determine what equipment they would need for their duties, and that was what he had chosen. Nikti assumed it was to compensate for something else, but that was just idle speculation (and she was damn certain it would stay speculation too). They were busy stowing their equipment (except the pacing youngster) when the door to the shuttlebay opened and Noli strode in, followed somewhat begrudgingly by the Chief Medical Officer.

“We ready?” the Bajoran looked towards Nikti, the team's second in command, with an excited smile.

“Almost,” the Orion frowned, jutting her chin in the direction of the nervous Ensign across the bay.

“Okay. You guys finish up here and help the Doctor prepare some EV suits. I'll talk to her,” the XO smiled reassuringly, before striding away from the rest of the team. As she approached the youngest member of the team, she could hear her chattering away, oblivious to her surroundings. It was only a cough from the Bajoran that caused the girl to stumble and come to a stop.

“Sorry, Commander, I didn't see you there,” Natalia winced, rubbing her temple with her right hand.

“Everything ok, Ensign?” Noli asked, her hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Natalia lied until the look on Noli's face reaffirmed what she always believed - she was rubbish at deception. “No,” she confessed, “I don't think I'm ready for this.” She was visibly trembling, her heart racing and sweat beads forming on her brow.

Noli, not particularly known for her soft, nurturing side, stepped closer to the youngster and lowered her voice. “You wouldn't be here if I didn't think you had something to offer this team, Natalia. You're excellent at your job and one of the brightest minds on this ship. It is time for you to put that mind to the test,” she smiled down at the diminutive Ensign as she put an arm around her and turned her frame so she could look at the shuttle. “Rely on your team and you'll get through whatever you're faced with. We're all in this together…”

She'd have been lying, again, if she said she felt completely at ease thanks to the XO's words, but she did feel comfortable enough to nod enthusiastically and share a smile of thanks with her team leader.

Just then, a loud clatter from the shuttle drew their attention, as Kivoss decided to drop a crate of equipment, drawing a laugh from the two women, who surged forward to render aid to their Andorian colleague.

“Oi! Kivoss! Try not to break the stuff before we get chance to use it…” 

“I quite like the idea of ‘Quantum Vanguard’…"

Dazia scoffed and shook her head vigorously, foot planted to spin her chair from side to side. “We're not a vanguard. ”Sounds too sciency, and we aren't all scientists," the Trill told the rest of the team. “What about Warp Wraiths?”

“The connotation suggests something dark…”

“Astral Aegis?”

The ensuing silence from the cockpit caused Ensign Donovan to turn her attention from the science station. Every member of the team was staring at the young scientist. “I mean… I just thought…”

“Astral Aegis?” Kivoss repeated, his antenna dipping as his brow raised in thought.

“Astral Aegis,” Nikti agreed from across the room.

“I could just see myself as Aegis One,” Kivoss laughed, only to be shot down with a single glance from the Bajoran at the helm. She was about to respond when a shrill trio of beeps hushed the conversation dominating the cockpit, the Commander turning back to the controls of the shuttlecraft. “We're approaching the atmosphere,” the Bajoran told, fingers tapping away and returning the controls of the craft to manual.

“Sensors show the landing pad at the facility is clear,” Kivos declared from the co-pilot's chair.

“Get yourselves ready,” Noli ordered with a jerk of her head towards the back. It was time for the guardians of the stars to get to work.

A hiss accompanied the opening of the shuttlecraft door, not just from the pneumatics of the mechanisms, but also due to the heat from the inside of the shuttle's cockpit radiating out and clashing with the bitter cold of the Quasaris morning mist. The system's yellow dwarf star had yet to emerge from the clouds blanketing the morning sky, so much of the landing platform was still in darkness, but there was enough light to make out the silhouette of the building, and the door they had to enter through.

Marching from the shuttle, each covered in their EV suit, the Hazard Team (or Astral Aegis as they were supposedly now known) made their way towards the entranceway; Noli in the front, and Kivoss to the rear. As they walked, the biologist in the team held out her tricorder and scanned the facility ahead of them.

“I'm not detecting any signs of life,” Natalia told, so focused on her readings that she nearly crashed into the team leader ahead of her.

“No sign of power, either,” Dazia frowned beneath her helmet. Dropping her engineering kit to the floor, the young Trill pulled out a PADD-like device and maglocked it to the door. Before she could even activate the device, a loud clatter from inside, distanced yet loud enough to hear, gave her pause. She exchanged concerned glances with the Commander.

“Phasers,” Noli instructed, drawing her sidearm and holding it in front of her at a rested, yet ready position. Her team followed suit, except for the Andorian, who drew his comically oversized rifle to his shoulder and shined the light beacon on the maglock.

Taking a deep breath, poor, sweet Dazia activated the device. After a few seconds of magnetisation, she was able to drag the doors apart with all of her might, just enough for the team to enter the facility.

Hazard Team took on new meaning when they entered the corridor. A constant flickering of the strobe lighting lining the hallway was the only sign of power to the facility, but it was all they needed to know that things weren't right here. Shattered glass crumbled beneath their feet as they moved forward into the lab; every window and console had been blown out, with glass everywhere. In each room they entered on their initial sweep, equipment trollies had been upturned, data PADDs crushed, and furniture scattered.

At the back of the group, Ensign Donovan was the last to observe each room, shocked at what she was seeing in the facility. “Where is everyone?” she whispered, her eyes trained on the devastation in the third room as she sidestepped out of the room, unfocused. So unfocused in fact that she walked smack into the back of Lieutenant Keesa.

“Sorry Lieutenant, I was jus…” her voice trailed off as her gaze drifted past the Orion's right shoulder and towards the darkness before them. With each flicker of the lighting, a new horror emerged. Scorch marks and blast points adorned walls and doors alike; blood spattered up the walls and pooled on the floor plating.

“What happened here?” Nikti asked of no one in particular, her voice low and concerned, eyes darting from one disaster scene to another.

Stepping forward slowly, the tactical specialist in the group shouldered his rifle long enough to pull his tricorder from his utility belt. Stopping at one of the blast patterns, he ran the scanning device over the residue and watched the results stream in. Flipping the device closed, the Andorian holstered it and turned back to his comrades.

“Blast patterns and chemical residue point to small-scale photon grenades. Energy dispersal pattern in the blast points suggest two energy signatures; Federation,” he revealed before letting out a sigh, “…and Cardassian.”

“Shit,” Noli closed her eyes and let out a sigh audible enough that everyone in the group could hear it over the communications array between their suits. Her shoulders dropped at the thought of a Cardassian attack on another Federation facility so soon after the attack on Outpost C-91.

“Let's remember that a Cardassian energy signature doesn't prove anything other than Cardassian technology was used here,” Dazia chimed in, the engineer stepping forward to conduct her own analysis of the blast point.

Noli glanced at the engineer long enough to give her a nod of approval and then tapped a control on the wrist of her EV suit. "Hazard Team to Lakota,' she called out. To her surprise, nothing. With the silence, her tension levels rose. A quick point to Lieutenant Keesa and the Orion repeated the call to their ship. Silence greeted her, too.

Drawing her own scanning device, the youngest member of the group scanned the environment around them and frowned. “The radiation levels are dissipating. There's certainly not enough to stop communications from getting through,” the young Human told her teammates.

Looking down the corridor, the Commander of the team decided upon her next course of action. “Alright, listen up. We're going to split up. Dazia, you're with me. Kivoss and Natalia, you're with Nikti. We'll take the rooms on this side, you take the rooms on that side,” she instructed, hands waving as she distributed her tasks. “Search for any evidence of what was going on here before, what happened now, and any sign of life. When we're done here, my team will head to the command center. Nikti, take your team to the main science lab."

Even before she could finish, the Bajoran could see the words of objection forming on her Orion deputy's lips, shutting them down in an instant with a hand raised to silence her subordinate.

“Get to it,” the Bajoran told sternly, watching as the team reluctantly began to split up and perform their different tasks, searching side rooms and making their way slowly, methodically, down the corridor of devastation.

Her mind was abuzz with questions as she joined her Trill colleague in her search. Where were the facility scientists? Where had dozens of people just disappeared to? They couldn't have just evaporated into thin air, could they? And the evidence seemed to point to some sort of Cardassian involvement, but just how much was yet to be established. Could they be dealing with a larger threat than they anticipated?

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoed down the hall. Noli instantly dropped the scientific device she had picked up, something akin to stirrups you might find attached to a medical bed, and headed for the door. Albeit slightly slowed due to the cumbersome nature of their EV suits, Trill and Bajoran alike ran from ‘Analysis Room Beta’ and barged into a room two doors down. There, Nikti and her team were huddled, staring at something in the room.

When she joined the group, the Commander wedged herself between her teal-wearing colleagues. As her eyes caught sight of what they had seen, she let out a gasp.

A pile of bodies, if you could call it that. It was difficult to make out how many people were there, but Noli counted at least three pairs of feet protruding from the mound.

And one long mane of red hair.

“That's Doctor Orta,” Nikti choked between pumps of her heart. “Zinn made me brush up on station personnel before we left. She's one of the lead scientists.”

“Was,” Kivoss corrected her coldly, drawing a look of exasperation from the younger team members not used to his acerbic nature.

“They weren't killed by weapons fire,” Nikti shook her head slowly. “Dismemberment is my initial cause of death; the amount of blood clearly shows they were alive when they were,” she took a deep breath as she finally looked at the Commander, “…attacked.”

“What the hell could have done this?” Natalia asked through tears.

“It doesn't matter,” Noli eventually spoke. ”What matters is we are down here, without any way to contact the ship at present. We need to get to the command center and try and re-establish communications. If we can't, we'll head back to the ship and inform them. We'll try and establish what happened when we've got more support down here," the XO told, turning away from the poor souls laid before them.

“Let's go…”

To say that Keziah had worn a hole in the carpet behind the tactical station with her pacing was perhaps an overstatement, but not by much. She'd been pacing ever since contact had been lost with the shuttle almost a quarter of an hour ago, and with sensors unable to penetrate whatever was down there, the Captain had every right to be concerned.

That level of concern was about to grow. You see, time was often a luxury in Starfleet, especially where away missions were concerned, and today was no exception. It was almost at the exact moment that contact had been lost with the shuttle that Commander Peri's sensors had alerted them to a new danger. They knew the Cardassian ship shadowing them across the border wasn't out of the ordinary, it happened all the time due to the xenophobic nature of the Cardassians and their extreme territorialism. Aboard this particular ship, however, the Gul in command was clearly feeling lucky on this occasion. Peri's sensors had detected the Galor-class cruiser change course several minutes ago, clearly intent on intercepting Lakota. While the ship hadn't crossed into Federation space yet, it was only a matter of moments. Peri had tried, several times unsuccessfully, to raise the ship, but to no avail. That was what worried Nazir the most. After all, it was never a good idea to stay too long on the Cardassian border without making one's intentions known. For ships on either side of lines.

Once again, Peri dispatched yet another attempt at communication while slouched at her station, thoroughly expecting the silence to continue. To her surprise, she finally received a response. “Captain. I have the Cardassian commander for you,” the Bajoran looked across at the Captain who finally stopped her pacing.

Tugging on the hem of her uniform jacket, the Captain took a deep breath and began strolling around the rail towards her command chair. As she walked, the console behind her chimed for a second time. And a third. Only when she was ready did she finally slide into her command chair. “On screen,” she instructed at last.

The face of a middle aged Cardassian Gul appeared on the screen, his immaculately slicked hair reflecting the low level lighting, a hazy amber halo forming around his crown. “Federation vessel. This is Gul Natel of the Cardassian cruiser Tykana. I presume you have an excellent reason for bringing a Starfleet Task Force so close to Cardassian Space? Perhaps some Maquis that need saving?” A sneer spread across his face, tweaking the corners of his lips revealing a wicked toothy smile.

“Gul Natel,” Nazir gave a single nod to the Cardassian in greeting. “Fleet Captain Nazir of the USS Lakota," she told him, inching slightly forward in her seat. “The presence of my squadron in this region is of no concern to you, sir. We are, after all, in Federation space. You, however, are not,” she reminded him. 

His smile still lingering on his lips Natel relaxed back into his chair, his fingers rolling a small metal vial back and forth on the armrest. “Both of our governments have agreed to maintain security of the former demilitarized zone, I presume you received that memo.” He paused the rocking of the vial. “Particularly in matters involving a distress call, I believe that is galactic goodwill 101. Fleet Captain.” His eyes traced back to Nazir slowly, the thin lipped grin still hovering on his face. “Though perhaps I should report to Central Command that we may need reinforcement. To send such an impressive host Starfleet must be concerned.”

“According to said memo,” the Trill began, a strange smile pursing her lips, “you are permitted to cross into our territory only upon specific invitation, which has yet to be sent.” It was then that the smile evaporated and she slowly, purposefully, rose from her seat. “As for the distress call to which you refer, goodwill or not, the only way you would know about such a transmission is if you had surreptitiously intercepted a coded Federation signal for some nefarious reason,” standing at the heart of the bridge, hands clasped together behind her back, she oozed confidence and bravado. “Perhaps it is I who should contact Starfleet and insist on further support for my squadron?” she suggested, reminding him further of the fact that he was, for now, outnumbered three to one.

Natel's eyes narrowed as the smile that hovered on his lips drooped slightly. “Regardless of the means by which we recieved the message it indicates a concerning situation. Your laboratory is in distress and the Cardassian Union will not stand idly by whilst the Federation allows another horror to be unleashed upon the quadrant.” The man's smile faded almost completely as his tone turned chilly. “You will forgive us if the Union is not filled with confidence in Starfleet's ability to manage things following your recent…” he chewed on the word, rolling it around in his mouth, savouring the taste, “…misstep.”

Nazir bristled at the words he spat across the communications array. “That misstep to which you refer originated from the Changeling infiltration your people unleashed upon the quadrant in the seventies,” the Trill responded sternly. “You may not have been here then, sir, but I was. I saw the horrors of your alliance. And I was there when Starfleet, not the Cardassian Union, brought that horror to an end.” She could feel herself getting somewhat rattled by the man, but she'd be damned if she would let him see it. “I thank you for your offer of assistance, Gul Natel, but graciously decline. Should the situation change, you'll be the first person I'll call,” the fake smile of before returned to her lips as her stance softened.

The Gul’s icy smile melted away, “I do not think the memorials that still burn in every Cardassian home agree with your assessment Fleet Captain.“ His brow twitched with a barely repressed frustration, turned inward as much as towards the Starfleet Captain. “We are not one man’s mistake, something I thought such an experienced Trill would appreciate.” His eye twitched as something off-screen caught his attention. Abruptly his smile returned. “Very well Lakota. We will leave you to your ’rescue operation’, we will be standing by to render assistance when you realise you require it. Tykana out.”

“He hung up…”

At the CONN, Henry's eyes widened as he realised what had just transpired, while several feet back, Teyahna and Peri shared almost instantaneous grimaces. Nazir was rooted to the spot, arms by her sides and her fists turning almost paper white as she clenched them tight. “The son of a bitch hung up on me,” Nazir fumed, repeating the words again but in a lower, more sinister manner. Swivelling on her heels, she caught sight of the two Lieutenant Commanders, who quickly spun back to their stations.

“Get me the away team,” she barked, returning to her seat. After a few moments, and several beeps, she sat forward in her chair and turned towards Peri's station. “Problem?”

Peri was tapping away furiously at her station, then looked across at Teyahna again. “I've lost the away team,” she told, regretting her words the second they left her lips as they caused the Captain to dart out of her seat with the force of a warhead being launched from the torpedo bay.

Nazir was around the tactical rail and beside the Commander before she could blink twice. “Teyahna?” she asked, looking across at the Orion who had her back to the tactical rail and was busying herself.

“The radiation levels are not high enough to interfere with comms,” the green-skinned beauty mused while her fingers danced across the console. “Whatever has happened, has happened down there,” she finally concluded, spinning on her stool and making eye contact with the Captain.

Letting out a sigh, the Captain nodded in response, her whole demeanour changing as she relaxed a little more. “Keep trying to cut through,” she instructed her team, "and monitor that asshole out there…

…I want to know if he so much as sneezes in the direction of that planet."

A fist smashing into a computer terminal caused the majority of the group to jump, especially the fragile Ensign who had been assigned from the Lakota's science department. Once her heart slid down her oesophagus and back into its normal position, the biologist shot her Trill counterpart a look that could kill. Dazia was frustrated, that much was certain, but she didn't have to scare everyone in the process of her repairs, did she? Natalia understood that her friend's efforts to restore communication had yet to yield any results, and that was frustrating, but she didn't have to make such a big deal of things. Outbursts like that never helped anyone.

It felt like the young Trill had been at it for hours, when in reality, they'd only been in the command center for about half an hour. While she worked on communications, the rest of the team was trying to access personnel logs and other files. Except Kivoss. Kivoss was keeping watch, his heightened sense of hearing finely attuned to the rooms beyond their location.

“Anything?” Noli asked of her young scientist, stepping across to the station in the center of the room where Natalia was hard at work.

“I'm trying a diffraction algorithm to see if I can access the logs on the system. The partition files are quite damaged, so I don't know if we'll be able to retrieve them,” the human responded with a sheepish smile. She was trying, but being a biologist and an engineer were two very different jobs. With Dazia hard at work on communications, everyone had to chip in.

Sliding up beside the youngest member of the team, the Commander looked over the algorithm that was working away. With the atmosphere breathable in the command center, the team were free to work without the restriction of their helmets. Folding one arm across her chest, the other reached up and she stroked her chin in contemplation. She then pulled her tricorder out of its pouch and began tapping away. “We could try adding in a standard decryption program from the 80's. A lot has changed in the galaxy, but these systems haven't been upgraded in nearly two decades,” the Commander suggested, glancing at Natalia, almost for approval.

“What have we got to lose?” the Ensign grinned, happy for the opportunity to work alongside the Commander somewhat closer.

Another bang at the console behind them caused the two to jump, but this time it was accompanied by an exclamation of excitement. “Nailed it!” Dazia shouted, and began a rather amusing hip twirl and jig that caused the XO to smirk. When she stopped, the Trill nodded slowly at the senior officer. “It's not much, but I've got audio.”

Tapping her commbadge, the Commander called out to the heavens above them.

“Hazard Team to Lakota…"

At first, there was nothing but static, but eventually, a few new sounds suggested that some wizardry was going on in the communications array. Then a voice, a familiar timbre to it.

“Lakota here,” the Captain's voice cut through the static, to silent cheers and congratulations aimed at Dazia for her work. To her credit, the young engineer did not seek adulation and simply moved aside to assist her science colleague in restoring access to the station's logs.

“Captain,” Noli began, “we have a problem…”

"Scientist's Log, stardate 24015.5. Doctor Cavet recording.

 

Our efforts to complete the genome re-sequencing has been unsuccessful, our efforts to stabilise our patients have failed. With no new samples for testing, I am forced to admit defeat; there will be no cure for this virus that is ravaging Cardassian colonies in the area. In trying to understand this virus, we've studied several biological and psychological changes in our patients - changes of great concern to me. If the virus spreads beyond the Cardassian colonies it already infects, then we'll be dealing with a pandemic that causes Cardassians to become more violent, but also less resistant to even the simplest of illnesses. Whatever this virus is, it destroys the immune system in a way I have not seen before.

 

We've asked the Cardassians for permission to contact Starfleet, but they were forceful in their remonstrations. They'd rather die than receive Starfleet's assistance.

 

It's just a shame that they may get that wish sooner than they realise…"

"Scientist's Log, stardate 24015.8. Doctor Cavet recording.

 

Glinn Darro broke from his restraints today. Maximilian is dead. We thought we understood everything about this virus but the cause. We were wrong. Darro seems… different… somehow. One minute he's exhibiting extreme paranoia and high aggression levels, the next he is a weeping heap in the corner of the lab.

 

Gul Nosott is on his way to take Darro back to the Union for study. He's ordered us to wipe our computers and never speak of this to Starfleet, but I can't, in good conscience, follow those orders. Starfleet needs to know, right?"

" * Significant Distortion Audible *

 

…help! Please… someone… I've sent this…mission to Starf… but they will be too la… Darro. It was all Darro. He killed Max, he killed Cavet. God knows who is nex… Wait… What was that?

 

* Audible disrupter fire and explosions in the background *

 

Nosott and his men can…op him… I've got him contained in… 637-Alpha for now. If you receive this, find him. Stop this. Please."

“That's all we were able to retrieve from the files the away team brought back with them…"

Sat around the Captain's living quarters, the senior staff looked shell-shocked as they tried to make sense of what they had heard in the audio recordings. Or'uil was sandwiched between Noli and Peri on the sofa, both Bajoran women looking deeply concerned. Across from them, beyond the ornate coffee table, Zinn and Teyahna had taken over the single matching chairs. Henry was perched on the edge of the Captain's desk, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the floor, while Linn stood next to the wall-mounted display which had been playing the accessible logs from the Biofabrication Centre. Nazir was the only person moving, pacing back and forth near her dining table, hands in her pockets, hunched shoulders and a dour expression on her face.

“If we piece the information together, the situation is pretty simple,” Zinn finally chimed in, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “They've received patients that were presenting with viral symptoms from one of the nearby Cardassian colonies. They've tried synthesising a medication and failed.”

“Yeah, really simple…” Noli shook her head towards the Deltan, who cocked his head and glared at her.

Before it went any further, Teyahna chipped in with her input. “Whatever the virus is, there is no evidence that it is affecting anyone but Cardassians. And in at least one case, it's caused extreme psychosis.”

“Perhaps the Cardassians should have allowed Cavet to alert Starfleet. We could have had medical and science teams here in days,” Peri interjected.

“Cardassians are notoriously stubborn and rarely accept help from outsiders. Their response is true to form if nothing else,” Or'uil responded to the tactician. “It would appear that this Darro person was responsible for the death of the scientists,” the Ungeat added, eliciting nods of agreement around the group.

“And if Nosott and his team tried to take this dangerous Darro in, that would explain the Cardassian weapons fire found around the facility,” Henry added, pushing himself off the Captain's desk and perching on the edge of the sofa next to Noli.

Finally coming to a stop, the Captain looked around the group, who focused on her now that she had stopped in her tracks. Most of them had served with her long enough now to know her cues and triggers. “I'll contact our friend on the Tykana, and let him know we are aware of the situation. Zinn, I want you to contact Starfleet Medical and appraise them of the situation. They can send out a more specialised crew to deal with the situation,” the Trill instructed.

“As you wish,” Zinn nodded.

“I recommend quarantining the sector until we get a handle on the situation,” Teyahna added, with Zinn nodding in agreement.

“I'll recall the squadron,” Noli told, looking to Nazir for acceptance of her suggestion. “Between the three of us, we can successfully lockdown the sector until the help from medical arrives,” she continued, a smile from Nazir signalling her approval.

“And deal with any Cardassian intruders,” Peri added.

“Can I address the elephant in the room?”

Everyone slowly turned their attention to the Bolian at the display. “The last thing the woman in the log said was that they had Darro contained. Did anyone look for him?”

“We didn't have that information at the time,” Noli frowned, sitting forward. “We didn't see a need to search the entire facility once we obtained the logs. I felt getting access to them was more important.”

“We're still struggling to get sensors to permeate the station,” Teyahna told, “so we have no idea if he is still down there or not, contained or not.”

“Peri,” Nazir looked directly at the tactical officer. "Ready a heavily armed away team. If he is there, I want him brought here and in containment.

“The Cardassians will not like that…” Or'uil interrupted.

Nazir scowled. While the Ungeat was right, that couldn't be her concern right now. “He killed Federation citizens. I couldn't care less what they will or will not like. I want him in custody so that he can't kill anymore," she looked back to Peri. “If he's still there, get him here, whatever means necessary.”

“Yes Captain. It would be handy if I could take someone familiar with the facility,” she added, looking to Noli for help on that front.

“I'd take Kivoss if I were you,” the XO responded, “he knows the facility and is significantly cooler under pressure than the rest of the team.”

“Excellent,” Nazir nodded, rubbing her hands together in front of her, as if she was trying to keep warm on a cold, winter's day. “If he's still down there, find him and get him back here…" she directed her words carefully, and clearly towards the security chief.

"…by any means necessary.”