The Security Hub’s briefing room is filled with LCARS screens flashing red alerts, each displaying power failures, ventilation malfunctions, and missing supplies. The hum of consoles and the faint murmur of security officers analyzing reports create a tense atmosphere. The station’s infrastructure is stretched to its limit, and the evidence points to intentional sabotage from within.

Behind his desk, Domam Ze reviews the latest sabotage reports; power failures, storage tampering, and ventilation issues, spread across his desk. He hums thoughtfully, puzzling over what’s happening and why. Was it the Tube Rats? His brow furrows as he spots Varujan Istrati entering the office.

“Lieutenant Istrati, you seem happy,” Domam mutters sarcastically, noting the frustrated look on the engineer’s face.

Varujan stops before the desk, followed by a security officer. “It seems these aren’t system failures, sir. They’re deliberate acts.” He gestures to the officer, stepping aside.

“Sir,” the officer states formally, placing a PADD with security footage on Domam’s desk. “This is from the last recorded malfunction, about twenty-four hours ago.” He presses play, showing small figures darting through the maintenance corridors. The footage confirms what they suspected, the Tube Rats are involved.

Rubbing his chin, Domam exhales through his nose. “Thank you, Ensign. You’re dismissed.” As the officer leaves, he turns to Varujan. “The Syndicate is pressuring them, manipulating them into doing their dirty work against us.”

Varujan crosses his arms. “Or,” he mutters, “while I’m on good terms with these kids, maybe they’re doing it for a more personal reason, a criminal one.”

Domam tilts his head. “Those angels? Maybe.” He stands, grabbing his phaser. “Better to ask directly. Let’s go.”

Lower Decks – Tube Rats’ Hideout

Deep in the gloomy maintenance corridors, the air is thick with stale coolant fumes and the distant hum of plasma conduits. The Tube Rats’ hideout is a repurposed storage bay, littered with makeshift bedding, stolen food crates, and scrawled messages on the walls. When Starfleet arrives, wide-eyed children scatter into the dark passages, leaving Vresh alone to face them.

Varujan watches the last child disappear into the tunnels, shaking his head. “Even after all our help, they’re still scared.”

Vresh steps forward, glaring at Domam. “You seem to have a knack for finding us, Starfleet.”

A shrug came from Domam. “It’s not exactly hard when your hideout has been linked to multiple sabotage attempts.” He taps a crate of food, smirking. “Some of these kids need medical check-ups, you know that. We found an abandoned base where you last met our doctors. You had the chance to accept help.”

Catching the apple Domam tosses at Vresh, taking a bite with an annoyed grunt. “What do you want?”

Domam crosses his arms. “I know the Syndicate is using you. You think they care about you? Did you notice how fast they tried to throw you under the bus last time?” He leans in slightly. “They’ll cut you loose the second you’re no longer useful.”

Frustration clear on Vresh face. “And suddenly Starfleet cares? Sure, you helped us once. But what’s stopping you from using us too?” He gestures to the scattered children. “Where were you when we were starving?”

Domam clenches his jaw. “So your solution is sabotaging the station?” He motions toward a damaged bulkhead. “If you keep doing this, you’re putting everyone at risk, including your own people.”

Hesitates but keeps his stance firm. “I won’t betray anyone.” Vresh voice drops. “I don’t like working for those scumbags either, but if I turn on them, it backfires on all of us.”

A narrow, claustrophobic tunnel, lined with high-voltage relays pulsing with energy. Dim emergency lighting casts eerie shadows, flickering slightly as Nyla trembles, trying to bypass a security lock. The faint whir of disrupted energy fields fills the air.

Varujan’s tricorder beeps, alerting him to an active power grid tampering attempt. His eyes widen. “Someone’s messing with the conduits!” He and Domam rush out, Vresh lingering in the shadows behind them.

Lower Decks – Main Power Conduit

They arrive just as two enforcers corner Nyla, their disruptors raised.

“I told you to finish the job, kid. No witnesses.” One of them snarls, aiming his weapon at Nyla’s head.

“STOP!” Varujan shouts, raising his phaser. The distraction gives Nyla a chance to dive behind a stack of crates. The enforcers open fire, but Starfleet returns fire, forcing them into cover.

Vresh emerges from the shadows, eyes locked on Nyla. His hesitation lasts only a second before he moves, dodging fire to reach her.

After a tense battle, the security team overpowers the enforcers, leaving one wounded on the ground. Vresh pulls Nyla toward the maintenance tunnels, shaking his head at Domam.

“I need to protect my family. I won’t go back with you.” With that, he vanishes into the darkness.

The captured enforcer laughs bitterly. “You don’t get to take our property and walk away.”

Varujan sighs, raising his weapon, before slamming the hilt against the man’s face, knocking him out. “Shut up.”

Security Hub – Domam’s Office

A small, cluttered office, walls lined with mission reports, surveillance footage, and confiscated contraband. A dim desk lamp casts long shadows over stacks of PADDs detailing Syndicate activity. Domam and Varujan sit across from each other, discussing what’s next.

Varujan sighs, scrolling through the latest incident reports. “This was the second time. It won’t be the last.”

Leaning back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “We have to give them a real alternative. If we don’t, the Syndicate will own them forever.” Domam thought about any solution they could offer.

Varujan scoffs. “What’s the plan? Build them a school? Hand them Starfleet badges? They don’t want us.”

“Not yet.” Domam clenches his jaw.

From the corner, the captured enforcer chuckles, shaking his head. “You think today was bad? You have no idea what’s coming.”

Varujan smirks, turning to Domam. “Want me to make the report while you loosen his tongue?”

Cracking his knuckles, grinning. “I’ve got this.” Domam walks to the enforcer.

The enforcer gulps. “Wait… I thought Starfleet didn’t do violence. I, uh… can I get a lawyer?”

Domam leans in. “No. Let’s talk.”

As the office door slides shut, Varujan shakes his head, chuckling. “Another day, another crime.”