“And that’s just the big stuff.” Commander Park finished running down her report to her captain.  She sat at the science console while Wren Walton stood beside her, reading the details on her PADD.

Wren scrolled, “Plenty of odds and ends in this mix – a few newborn nebulas.”  She blew out a long sigh, “And our new friends?”

Park returned the sigh, “Long-range sensors show some activity around the small station construction.  Nothing much has changed.  We’ll need to return to the area to get short-range readings.”  Her console beeped a light alarm, “New signal…on our side of the border.”  Park tapped at the console to focus the sensors, “It’s exactly like the signal we detected before – this time, it’s aimed at us and not Montana Station.”

Walton turned to examine the screen. “Where is it coming from?”  The signal’s frequency and strength intrigued her. “Is that signal able to be detected from the Tholian side?”  Park confirmed it wasn’t – unless they were looking for it.  “Well, then, let’s see what we’ve got.  Helm, engage an intercept course.”  The Perseverance changed direction.  “Lieutenant Albright?”

Grace was working on her console in the left-hand command seat. “It’s unusual. Whatever it is, it’s doing everything to get our attention while hiding from the Tholian side. It could be a trap, a message, or a Tholian in hiding.”  She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise slightly, “It’s possible that they used the construction as a cover to escape to our side.”

Wren returned to the center chair, “The message from your old Tholian was that there were more behind the lines.  We’re going to be cautious.  Is the signal far enough away from the border for us to intercede without consequence?”

Albright toggled the display on the viewscreen, “It’s not in the current disputed zone, but the Tholians are known for moving lines depending on their mood, the day, and whatever suits them.”  She’d studied them extensively, yet she wasn’t sure what game they were playing.  Or who was playing it?  “Tholian envoys are few and far between. You would have better luck sitting down with one of the Ferengi traders.”

The CO winced.  They were her least favorite species to try and negotiate with over anything.  “When it comes to luck and dealing with the Ferengi, especially about Tholians – that is a slippery-sliding scale.  I don’t suppose you have any of them to call in if this situation gets complicated.”

“A few.  One or two might still talk to me.”

“Reach out.  Helm – time to intercept?”

A half-hour later, the Pathfinder class starship dropped from warp speed and slid into the sector.  Wren had remained in the center chair, reviewing the updated sensor reports as they grew closer.  She turned to her XO, “Is that…some kind of capsule?”

Park’s concerns about what was waiting for them had grown. “A single occupant capsule of some kind – I’m getting faint life sign readings.  Unknown species – sensors are having trouble getting beneath the surface of that thing.”

Wren tapped the console on the arms of her chair, adjusting the camera to zoom in. It was a long, circular, worn capsule with no identifying marks.  “Albright, send a message across the border – broadcast wide and far. Inform them of our discovery and gently ask them if they want it back.”  

Park turned in her chair, and Wren could feel her eyes boring into her. “Captain?” the tone was concerned.

Wren faced her XO and interim science chief: “Tholians are notorious for how they respond to border offenses, incursions, and anything related. I just got the Perseverance—I don’t want to lose this chair because I upset an alien species. Keep scanning, keep checking, and keep an eye out.”  She turned her chair back to face the front of the bridge, her mind swirling with the possibilities.  It could be a test by the Tholians to see how the Federation would respond with their new shiny station and newly organized squadron.  Fontana was well known in some circles but not in the rimward ends of Federation space.  As good as the Tholian’s spy systems were purported to be, they might need to fill in some blanks.  That last thought chilled her.  If this was just some twisted exercise to run them through the gauntlet, there was far more riding on this than she had initially considered.  “Albright?”

Grace’s hands worked the console as she continued to transmit: “No response. The construction site is receiving our transmission. There is a powerful transmitter unit attached to that thing—it’s as good as or better than what we have onboard.  They’re listening, but they’re just letting it ring.”

Walton groused, “Any other species, we’d be talking by now.  The Klingons would want their thing back – they’d be furious it had escaped.  Romulans would be accusing us of attempting to steal or spy with it. Andorians would say it was our fault it ended up there in the first place.  Vulcans…well, they wouldn’t have lost the capsule.”  She leaned forward, elbows on her legs, “But the Tholians…they just ignore us.  Park – vitals still reading stable?”

The XO wasn’t worried—yet. She reported, “The computer says stable—the readings identify a living thing still alive. What it is, its real condition or anything more is hidden beneath some pretty heavy shielded material.”

Wren was worried.  “Plenty of this smacks of intentionality.  Park – get me a priority one encrypted channel with Montana Station.”

Fleet Captain Fontana’s face filled the screen. He was in the command center. “You want my permission to take it into your cargo bay…give it a once-over?”  His face remained unreadable.

“That would be ideal, sir.  There are no lines to read between out here when no one’s writing back to us. Plenty of risk that’ll follow any decision we make.”  She accepted a PADD from Park, “Vitals are trending downward – but the vitals could be the readings of a ship battery versus a cardiovascular system.  All the power of a Pathfinder class and the Tholians outsmart us in one move.”  She was annoyed.  If whatever was in there died, the Tholians could blame them for ignoring someone who needed help.  The variables of the scenario varied wildly.

Geronimo asked, “You’ve got the view on site.  What’s your gut tell you, captain?”

Wren wrestled with a few competing thoughts and landed on, “They’re ignoring us, waiting for us to make the first move.  It’s a test – to see our response and then respond accordingly.  I don’t like being played with, sir, but I think if we’re going to get anything going with the Tholians, we’ll have to step onto the field…and do something.”

His eyes stared back at her.  She knew this was a risk for them both.  He was a newly promoted Fleet Captain in charge of a large station.  She was on a journey to repair her reputation and record.  She waited until she heard his sigh, “Damn it.  Send one more message. Give it thirty minutes.  Then bring it on board. Stay onsite as you do your investigation on the unit.  Updates every five minutes – no matter what.”  She could see him shaking his head, “I’m putting Douglas and Dragonfly on standby orders – they’ll be ready to ride if things get hot.”

She didn’t fight the support.  The Perseverance was a strong starship in most scenarios.  This wasn’t most scenarios.  “Understood and confirmed, sir.”  The channel closed, and she stood, turning to the sparsely populated bridge, “Albright, let’s do the standard hail and wait.  Park  – gather what spare crew we have. Have them report to the shuttle bay.  We’ve got thirty minutes to prepare for whatever the next move is on this tilt a whirl of a Tholian chessboard.”