“Captain’s Log, Stardate 6.23.2402.” Wren Walton sat on the couch in her ready room, staring at the ceiling. “After several days, we’ve managed to identify what was causing the planet’s odd readings.” She shook her head, still in shock. “The running theory is that a rogue scientist is attempting some kind of…new Genesis project.” She sat up, picking up a PADD. “I should get this right since my science chief is a stickler for facts and figures. It’s not a new Genesis project but an adaptation of some ideas that created that monster device.” Wren shivered at the memories of the academy assignments dedicated to understanding the scientific dangers. Khan had proven the threat it could be with his attempt to destroy Kirk and the Enterprise and all souls aboard her.
“Lieutenants Wallaker and Eseri looped me in on a concern that the collective cases of rogue scientists and operators that we’ve run into in the rimward have given the Montana Squadron’s science teams the motivation to start tracking them – they’ve been at it just over six months.” Wren stood, walking to the replicator and cradling the steaming cup of hot cider. “There are a surprising number of science officers, civilians, and others who are thought to have fled to the rimward or other places to continue their research.” She sipped at cider, her body warming to the spiced cinnamon. “Commander Park says this isn’t unusual, but it’s concerning that we’ve got a higher-than-usual contact ratio out here. I don’t like it – some of our colonies have a lot of distance between us.” She winced at the following sentence, “Not to mention the ones we don’t know about or haven’t run across yet—lots of space in our backyard and beyond.”
She downed the cider and returned for a refill. The discovery of the new threats unsettled her. Command and operations had been her career. The rigors of science hadn’t interested her the way understanding a ship’s process and the people that ran it did. Thinking about it had brought a slack smile to her lips, and she forced her mind back to current matters. “We’ve filed our initial findings with Montana Station, and Captain Ki has added it to her board. Seems she’s been picking up chatter and getting second-hand reports around this stuff.” Another sip. “Park asked me today if I feared them…the scientists who’ve fallen off the path. I had to think about it for a moment. I told her that the idea of someone willing to blow through the boundaries of regulations and procedures when it came to scientific study made me nervous.” Wren returned to the couch and the array of PADDs on the seat beside her. “I’m afraid that whatever they cook up or create out here in the rimward will never be found. That whoever they use it on or whatever mad thing they create…will never be brought into the light. That those secrets will remain hidden, festering in the darkness.”
She closed out the data on the PADDs and piled them on the end table. There was still plenty to search. Planets would need deeper scans. Probes put into the dirt. She hoped the impact was minimal. She hoped they’d find a few odd planets versus a larger epidemic of problems requiring investigation and intervention.
Wren knew how hope worked – it wasn’t a strategy, and you couldn’t count on it when you needed it most. She sat in the relative silence of her ready room, trying to find something to sit in with her thoughts. It was hard, she realized. They would spend much of their time searching for the hidden and secret that had been buried with malicious intent. That was enough to keep someone’s brain spinning. A beep interrupted her thoughts. “Log paused due to inactivity. Do you wish to continue?”
Walton pushed herself off the couch, turning to face the wall-length windows. Streaming stars slid past her. They were onto the next. What more was there to say? She knew if she kept talking, her feelings would leak out of her words. The log would end up being more supplemental than anything. Walton disliked supplemental logs—a lot.
“Computer, end and save log.”