The terminal before Krev sputtered violently, scattering bits of charged glass and metal fragments into the air. Krev groaned, a dull pain throbbing in his skull as he struggled to stand up. His eyes fell upon Jalani’s motionless form on the floor nearby, and panic gripped him. “sh’za,” he called, his voice trembling. She didn’t move.

He carefully dragged himself across the floor of the Danube-class runabout, his finger trembling as he pressed it against her neck. A wave of relief washed over him, “a pulse,” he muttered under his breath. It was faint but there. Resting his head on her shoulder . “sh’za,” he urged, shaking her gently, “Jal, wake up.”

Krev forced himself to look around the broken craft. His memory was a haze; the last thing he could piece together was the cock pit being filled with a blaring alert. The sensors had detected something peculiar. He rubbed his throbbing temples; he couldn’t piece together the events. As Jalani stirred and began to moan, she reached out. “Krev,” she looked out into the smoke-filled cabin.

“There was something,” Krev murmured, clutching his head, determined to stand. He needed to see what was happening. He needed to ensure their safety.

“ch’te, you’re bleeding,” Jalani whispered, her voice barely audible. She glanced around the shattered cockpit, “Where are Talresh and Thalen?” She was clearly worried.

Krev looked at the terminal; it was dead.  He slammed his fist into what remained of the device. As his eyes began to focus, he looked out the nearby window, the fear filling his entire expression.  “Where are we?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Krev’s heart hammered in his chest as he scanned the wreckage around them. The Danube-class runabout was crippled and vulnerable. Jalani’s pale face, illuminated by emergency lights, mirrored his own fear. 

“We’re adrift,” Krev muttered, his voice hoarse. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he considered their dilemma. With no engines, no sensors, and minimal power, they were utterly at the mercy of whatever had caused this disaster. Outside the viewport, dark shadows hinted at unknown dangers in the void. Every creak of the damaged hull, every flicker of failing systems, strengthened the sense of impending doom. They were stranded, wounded, and lost.

[3 hours earlier] 

Tal strolled into the main area of the craft and plopped down on the sofa next to Jal. “Did I miss Krev’s meltdown? What is this, number four?” she teased.

Jal chuckled. “zh’yi, be nice. It’s not his fault; he’s a security officer, after all.”

A stern voice called from the cockpit. “I am not having a meltdown. I just don’t like that there will be no one to take care of you and Thal.” Krev set the autopilot and joined his bondmates for the midday meal.

The table in the center of the room held several replicated dishes: shaysha beetles, alardi partinna, and shevt’ak for dessert. Krev glanced at the others. “We’ve never been apart. This is hard for all of us.”

Thalen stood and placed a comforting hand on Krev’s back. “What our ch’te means is that he will miss you and me terribly,” Thal said, looking at Jal.

“Not enough to stay on Eos,” Jal retorted. “That was the plan, right?”

“Not this again,” Tal murmured. “Let’s move on, please.” Her tone expressed a plea as the group took their positions around the table. “We won’t have too many more meals like this. Can we please …”

“We’re fine zh’yi,” Thalen reassured her, embracing Tal. Their antennae entwined momentarily, and the room collectively sighed. The plan had been for the group to go to the station, but a call from Commander Tindal had changed everything.

“The Edison will still dock with the station periodically. We will never be that far apart,” Thalen smiled.

Just as one of the Andorians picked up a glass of mulled wine, the craft was filled with a red light, and klaxons blared a warning. They exchanged glances and sprang into action. Krev and Jal reached the cockpit first, but it was too late.

The computer had detected a massive energy surge nearby, leaving the Tyson little time to react. The craft jerked violently as Krev took his seat, sending Jal tumbling to the floor. The energy readings were alarming, and the gravimetric distortions were off the charts. Before Krev could respond, a portal appeared beneath the runabout.

“We’ve lost engines,” Krev shouted, unsure who he was talking to but desperate for someone to hear. “Rerouting all available power to shields,” he said as he sent out an automated distress call.  Suddenly, without warning, the terminal in front of him exploded.

Krev was knocked to the floor. He blinked a few times, but darkness began to overtake him. “Jal,” he managed to whisper before everything went black.

Moments later, from the back of the craft, Thal and Tal had managed to stay relatively safe, sustaining only a few bruises and bumps, but nothing serious. Making their way to the front of the runabout, Thal immediately got to work. Retrieving the medkit from the locker, he hurried over to Krev.

“No,” Krev pushed him aside, “tend to Jal first. I’m fine.”

“You’re stubborn. Now sit down, Doctor’s orders,” Thal insisted firmly. Then, turning to Tal, he said, “See to Jal, keep her steady and awake.”

Tal glanced outside the craft. “I can’t see a thing; it’s dark.”

Krev nodded, nearly forcing his way to his zh’yi. “I saw something out there. It was huge, massive. It was old, very old. We need a better idea of where we are, and we need Jal for that.”

Thal had moved on to Jal by this point, having given up on Krev. “She’s got a broken leg. We have no sensors and are running on auxiliary power. She needs more treatment than I can provide here. We need to move and find help.”

Tal sat up. “I realize I’m not the Engineer here, but with no shields, no sensors, and little power… If Krev is right and we hit some debris out there,” the zhen paused, “we won’t need to worry about separate assignments.”

Thalen snapped, “What do you expect us to do? Sit here and watch her die?”

Jal’s eyes widened. “What?”

Tal gently caressed Jal’s cheek. “Be still, sh’za,” she murmured. Reaching out with her other hand, she slapped Thalen’s leg. “Bedside manner, Doctor. Didn’t they teach you anything in the academy, th’se? Remember the…”

Thalen leaned forward, touching his forehead to Tal’s. “With the bond, we are Whole. Without the Whole, there is nothing.” He brushed a finger across Jal’s cheek. “You will be fine; your Doctor will see to that.”

“Now we wait and hope that whoever finds us is friendly,” Krev sighed.