Following their Captain, a woman used to hot, humid conditions from her time on Bajor, Hypatia’s away team struggled through the sand dunes of Nihor Prime, the corse material weighing heavy on their Starfleet issued boots; almost as heavy as the concern they felt in the presence of the strange creature at the front of their troop. Draped in an ivory, netted garment, the lanky figurine had silently led them this far, their captain glued to its every movement, as if she could hear its every command. Denen Nes followed close behind, his hand glued to the weapon he’d been allowed to keep after their transport to the planet’s surface, while Doctor Zinn, the only person on their crew who claimed to have seen a Nihari before, stuck to the tactical officer like glue. Commander Vren, the final member of the landing party, had been permitted to scan and record anything he so desired, and was lagging slightly behind the rest of the delegation as he marvelled at their surroundings. Enormous spires, much like the one found on Nareen, protruded from the sand piles, pointing to the heavens in what appeared to be some sort of strategic placement – he just hadn’t figured out the reasoning for the patterns yet. And whilst no one else on the team seemed to sense it, the Romulans sensory perception allowed him to feel the vibrations beneath his feet and the voices on the wind

They were almost two clicks from the capital city, a place teeming with life and technology; the polar opposite of the ruined citadel they found themselves in just minutes later. Sand heaps replaced by massive stone walls absorbing the last remnants of the days sunlight; the last autumnal heat of the planetary cycle replaced by an eerie chill. Noli felt words catch in her throat, eager to speak but something preventing her from sharing her thoughts, something suppressing her words, but not at all menacing. No. It was gentle but insistent, almost pleading for the Captain to hold her thoughts for a time. That time came when a new, much taller figure appeared from the shadows. It had the same mottled grey skin, hallowed eye-sockets and tendril-like fingers as the Seer, but was visibly older in appearance – the skin wrinkled, the eyes darker and the movements slower.

“This One, High Arbiter of Nihor, welcomes the strangers from afar,” its words, unspoken yet somehow heard and comprehended by those from the Starfleet vessel, accompanied the figure’s bow as its brittle frame seemed to groan under the pressure of movement. When it gradually stepped aside and lifted its fingers in a manner of polite gesture, the creature gave its first warning, words felt by those in uniform.

“Preserved for time is a great knowledge, a tether against our One’s oblivion. Walk carefully your One must; the past still breathes here.”

As if under the control of their exalted guest, the troop of Starfleet officers sought to move deeper into the crumbling fortress. As one moved, the others moved with them in perfect synchronicity. What one thought, they all felt. A deep unease befell the group the deeper they travelled, only growing worse when they came across a startling structure; an exact replica of those found on Nareen, but in perfect condition and glowing, only much smaller. Growing closer and slowing their advance, the tension grew further still upon the sound of distant voices drifting in on the bitter breeze. A fear had gripped Noli and somehow been disseminated through the group, every member feeling exactly like their Captain.

Sensing the unease of their honoured guests, the Seer stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the Captain’s shoulders. “Do not fear the echoes,” it transmitted, “they cannot harm you here.”

Its words, greatly received, put the team at ease enough for Serath to continue his analysis of the complex. “It’s remarkable,” he whispered, shaking his head and looking towards the Captain. “There is an enormous psychic presence…” he paused, “no, more like a pressure build up in the air down here.”

Moving past the group to the base of the obelisk structure, the High Arbiter, who towered almost as high as the obelisk, seemed to gaze into the souls of the group’s members.

“A prison of the body this place used to be,” the honoured elder informed them, “the tension you sense containing the essence of a creature most foul…”

Vastly different in architectural design to the crumbling building they had toured just a while ago, the Audience Chamber was circular in shape, metallic walls reducing the rooms temperature compared to the heat from outside. Even with night closing in, the last tendrils of heat gripped the tallest of buildings, including the Ascension Hall they found themselves in now. Sat on chairs that looked out of place in the meeting hall, the team listened to every word from the leader of the Nihari, and its respected Seer.

“Aberrant… The One encountered on Ulysses, was. Brutal and evil,” the High Arbiter hung its massive head, like it was in shame.

“Aberrant?” Doctor Zinn asked, particularly keen in knowing more, given his experience with the creature all those lightyears away and moons ago.

“Among this One’s kind, there are those born… broken. Minds twisted before breath is even drawn,” the Seer explained, waving his tendril fingers at the Optivis, an image of a dark, deranged figure appearing, and sparking concern in each member of the away team. “Damaged such that the Aberrant are susceptible to control from powerful entities, such as the one inhabiting the creature encountered on your vessel.”

“So, it wasn’t a Nihari that struck our people?” Noli asked, inching forward in her chair, eyes glued to the Seer, the one with all the information, it seemed.

“Not a Nihari,” the Seer shook its head, “but an ancient One, malevolent and dark. Called the Vezda that One is.”

Over the next twenty minutes, High Arbiter and Seer alike went to great lengths to explain the Nihari relationship with the Vezda. Extra-dimensional beings only ever with dark intent, the Vezda were capable of possessing those weak of mind, or struggling with some sort of trauma. It was the Vezda, the Seer believed, that were responsible for the warp barrier known as the Shroud, that had limited travel in the Expanse until it collapsed mere weeks ago. According to the leader of the Nihari people, the Vezda had once used a number of Nihari worlds to travel the cosmos and, unbeknownst to them at the time, strike other worlds, reigning fear and hellfire across the region. It was a fantastical tale of ancient horrors that would have served well around a camp fire, leaving the Starfleet crew aghast at what they had heard, until Denen Nes posed a question to their new acquaintances.

“What about the Draxans?” the Nausicaan asked, drawing the attention of the foe that lurked nearby.

“According to the Seer, the Draxans blamed the Nihari for a lot of the suffering caused by the Vezda,” Noli planted her feet on the deck of Hypatia’s bridge, turning ever so slightly in her chair whilst recounting their exploits to Captain Gor. “It’s why the Draxans decimated Nareen, and now that the Shroud has fallen…”

“…the Draxans are picking up where their ancestors left off all that time ago.” Shaking his head, the Tellarite was finding it hard to assimilate the wealth of information shared with him in the last few minutes, but at least they had context now for the Draxan advance on the Nihari homeworld.

“No one on this planet was alive back then,” Serath, standing to the Captain’s left, directed his words at the pig-like critter on the screen, “we can’t let the Draxans obliterate another world because of a feud last fought centuries ago.”

“We can be at your position within the hour,” Noli suggested, preparing to give the signal when Gor tossed up a hand in pause.

“Our position here is weak,” Al-Batani’s master confessed. “We could be overrun in a heart beat if they felt the need. We’ll come to you. If the Draxans break beyond our position, Hypatia will be the Nihari’s last line of defence,” the Captain smiled a toothy grin at his comrade. “We’ll see you soon, Captain. Gor out.”

With the view screen changing to the previous image of the planet below, Noli let out a massive exhale. She found it hard to explain how far they had come in such a short space of time. Just hours earlier, it felt like the Nihari were an existential threat to their safety, but now she was being trusted with being their last defender against an aggressive foe.

“Gor’s logic is sound,” Vashara Zail piped up, the strategist having listened to the Tellarites analysis of the situation they found themselves in. “We’ll be in a much better position to defend the Nihari if he can get his ships back here before the Draxans break our lines,” she added, drawing a nod of agreement from both the Nausicaan at tactical and the Cardassian sat to Noli’s right.

“Number One,” the Bajoran turned her face towards her deputy, “contact the Nihari and acknowledge their plea for help. Tell them Starfleet stands ready to assist.”

“On it Captain,” Prenar confirmed, turning in his chair to make use of his display. Meanwhile, the Captain’s attention turned to her trusted strategic operations officer.

“I want you to locate Wasp, and get her back here. We’re going to need as many starships as we can muster,” Noli instructed of the brilliant Orion, who simply bowed respectfully and made her escape.

Standing from her chair, the captain opted against any grandiose speeches or statements of intent. She simply pulled her arms behind her back and clasped her hands together.

“Red alert,” she barked, “all hands to battlestations.”