Commodore McCallister beamed upon the Destiny, and immediately, he felt the solemn atmosphere hit him hard like a barrage of torpedoes. The air was heavy with a mix of anticipation and dread, and the hum of the ship’s systems seemed to echo the crew’s unease. He sighed inwardly as he glanced around and was greeted by a bald Deltan, whom he recognised instantly as the ship’s chief counsellor. McCallister had briefly met him a few months prior, back on Deep Space Nineteen when the Destiny was assigned to the squadron. 

“Welcome aboard, commodore,” Kandil greeted his superior with a small flash of a smile and extended his hand towards the flag officer.

“Thank you, counsellor,” McCallister replied respectfully before shaking Kandil’s hand. Before he could request an update, Kandil was already beginning to brief him the moment they finished shaking hands.

“Commander Patterson apologising for not being here to welcome you, sir, but she and the other senior staff are continuing the investigation into Captain Bennet’s transformation,” Kandil explained as he escorted McCallister out of the transporter room and into a corridor.

McCallister dismissed the counsellor’s explanation with a wave of a hand, indicating his comprehension. “I completely understand, counsellor,” he said, glancing at the Deltan. One didn’t have to be Deltan or Betazoid to sense the ship’s tense atmosphere. It was palpable. “I assume there’s been no new developments or updates developments.”

Kandil shook his head as he led McCallister down the corridor and towards the nearest turbolift. “I’m afraid not, sir.”

The turbolift ride up to the bridge was silent. McCallister stood beside Kandil, almost still like a statue. McCallister was unsure of what to say at this point in time. He knew that, as squadron commander, he needed to offer comfort to Destiny’s crew. However, McCallister didn’t know what for yet. This was a completely unusual situation. Crazy, in fact. Nevertheless, crazy had become the norm since they started their exploration of the Delta Quadrant three years ago. How was he meant to write this one in his next report for Starfleet Command? 

Once the turbolift arrived on the bridge, the boatswain’s whistle played off before someone announced McCallister’s arrival at the top of their lungs. “Admiral on deck.”

Everyone stood to attention and faced him. 

Stepping out with the authority his flag rank gave him, McCallister waved off the formality. “As you were, thank you,” He insisted with his usual commanding tone.

The crew went back to their work. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small huddle of senior officers standing around the science station. Instantly, McCallister recognised them as the Destiny’s chief medical officer, chief security and tactical officer, chief engineer, chief operations officer and chief science officer. 

They were still trying to find a solution for their captain. McCallister couldn’t blame them for trying. He had been there plenty of times before during his career; trying to save a superior’s life was an agonising experience, especially for one who had mentored you for years. Zack Marshall-Bennet was one of Starfleet’s finest captains, and his rescue last year from the stronghold of the rogue changelings, alongside many other officers, in the aftermath of the Frontier Day massacre, brought immense joy to Starfleet. McCallister had appreciated that Bennet was keen to join the Odyssey Squadron’s mission to the Delta Quadrant. The fact that he had managed to gather his old crew on their old ship was a miracle in itself. Had Bennet not been kidnapped three years ago, he would likely be in McCallister’s position, leading this mission with a flag rank. 

The tall, muscular frame of Destiny’s chief security and tactical officer approached McCallister and Kandil from the group. 

“Welcome back to the Destiny, commodore,” Johren said respectfully. 

“Thank you, commander,” McCallister replied to the Kellerun before him. “Where is Commander Patterson?”

Johren looked over his shoulder and gestured towards one of the doors behind him. “She’s in the ready room, sir.” He answered solemnly. 

McCallister thanked Johren and Kandil before departing their company and crossing the bridge towards the ready room. He tapped on the chime and waited for a response. It came, and Patterson’s soft voice welcomed him in. 

The doors smoothly swished open, and McCallister stepped forward to find Commander Demi Patterson waiting for him. She stood before the long, curvy sofa under the slanting bay windows. McCallister stepped up onto the raised deck and extended his hand towards her. She mirrored the same gesture as she respectfully welcomed him aboard like the rest of her comrades had done moments ago.

From behind her, McCallister could see the Odyssey, Bellerophon and Triton in tight formation outside by the Destiny. 

“What’s the latest, commander?” He immediately asked as she gestured for them to sit on the sofa.

Patterson turned around, her posture rigid, but her eyes betrayed her—red-rimmed and hollow. She opened her mouth as if to speak but hesitated, pressing her lips together for a moment before forcing herself to stand straighter. “We’re still trying to determine everything, sir, but he has gone.”

McCallister tried to relax as he looked around the ready room. It was filled with Bennet’s personal belongings: a few pictures, ornaments, and prized possessions. “Start from the beginning. Walk me through it.” He told her.

Patterson took in a deep breath before recalling what had happened. She summarised every point for the commodore. She explained in detail how they had discovered a possible solution from the planet below with the containment field, and it appeared to be working for a while. Bennet’s form was stabilising, though he was in great pain. Then Eliatha appeared and tried to sabotage their efforts to keep him here with them. Patterson went on to explain that Bennet refused to deal with her, and somehow, he had been able to overwhelm the containment field and banish Eliatha from the Destiny. The next thing they knew, his transformation accelerated, and Bennet gave them his parting words before they could try anything.

McCallister frowned, bracing himself. “His last words… what were they?”

Patterson swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “His last words…” She cleared her throat, but it didn’t stop her voice from cracking. “He said, ‘The darkness is coming,’ and then—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “And then he was gone.”

McCallister sighed inwardly for the second time that day. He looked at a nearby picture of Bennet with his brother. The resemblance between them was uncanny. McCallister knew that Bennet’s mother, Admiral Judith Marshall-Bennet, would need to be briefed. His father was also a prominent Federation ambassador. 

“We’ve been scanning subspace for the last couple of hours, sir, with no trace of him or Eliatha,” Patterson’s voice wavered, and she exhaled sharply, trying to steady it. “There’s no signs of sporocystian energy either. No trace, nothing for us to follow. The last scan that Doctor Rarta took of the captain showed he was no longer human, and it would be unlikely he could reverse the transformation.”

“Your report of this planet indicated the possibility that a group of Nacene experimented on the lost civilisation’s people to transform them into possible compatible mates,” McCallister said as he tried to find a direction to take. “Well, maybe we need to look back down there for anything else.”

Patterson shook her head. “I sent an away team back down there, sir, to do exactly that, and the ruins are all gone. It’s like nothing existed.”

“Gone? How?” McCallister questioned.

Patterson shrugged, and her sense of defeat deepened further. “We don’t know, sir. But there’s nothing there. It’s almost like how the captain was able to restore the damage that Destiny took when we first arrived.”

McCallister stood and took a few steps forward as he contemplated his options. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He did not doubt the competence of the Destiny’s crew; they were among the most experienced crews in the squadron, second only to the Odyssey. Was Bennet lost for good? Most likely.

“Until we find evidence to the contrary, we must assume that Captain Bennet is lost to us. I’m sorry, Commander.”

Patterson seemed to deflate at hearing this from her superior. She nodded, doing her best to hold back further tears. “Understood, sir.” 

McCallister knew that she and Bennet were close. “Let’s speak to the rest of the crew,” he said, indicating for them to leave the ready room with a supportive smile. 

Patterson stood and followed the commodore outside. He noticed her pause as she glanced back at Bennet’s ready room before fully stepping out onto the bridge.

The entire bridge crew stopped what they were doing and gazed at the commodore and commander. McCallister asked the operations officer to open a ship-wide communication channel. The moment the whistle went off, McCallister spoke up.

“This is Commodore McCallister to all hands,” He paused. “Words cannot describe my sorrow for what has happened here today. All of you have worked extremely hard to save your captain. You should be proud of your efforts, and no one can deny your determination. Nevertheless, the search for him will not stop. We need to re-group and try another approach.” 

McCallister turned to Patterson. “A great officer has been taken away from us. Your captain, who built this crew, would want you to move on. Commander Patterson, I hereby promote you to the field commission of Captain, effective immediately. The Destiny is now your ship. Congratulations, although I wish the circumstances were under better circumstances.”

Patterson’s breath hitched, and for a brief second, she looked like she might protest. But she caught herself, straightening her shoulders as if the weight of the new responsibility had just settled on them. “I—thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.” Her voice was quieter now, measured—but not quite steady.

After shaking her hand briefly, McCallister spoke up again. “Computer, update Starfleet service record for Demi Patterson to reflect her promotion to captain and transfer all command codes to her, authorisation McCallister-Five-Eight-Alpha-Tango.”

“Acknowledged, service record updated, command codes transferred. This ship is now under the command of Captain Demi Patterson.”

The other senior staff initiated a quiet round of applause, to which Patterson smiled briefly in acknowledgement. This sudden change of command and promotion was certainly not what she expected. McCallister could see that, but he had been here before himself when he first made captain in a similar fashion. Back on the USS Trinity, he had lost his captain and was made captain during a crisis. Nonetheless, Patterson was more than prepared, and Bennet had been grooming her for the prominent position for quite some time. 

Patterson hesitated at first but then walked across the room and looked at the centre chair. As she lowered herself into the chair, she hesitated, her fingers brushing the armrest where Bennet’s hand had rested countless times before. The seat felt too big, too unfamiliar. She exhaled, straightened her uniform, and fixed her gaze ahead.

A beep went off at the operations console, and Patterson immediately took charge. “What is it, Evan?” 

“Incoming transmission from the Odyssey, ma’am. Captain Duncan has Captain Cambil on subspace for the commodore,” Wilson announced.

McCallister was intrigued to hear what both of them were calling him for. “Put it through, commander,” He ordered.

Wilson nodded, and the Destiny’s bridge holo-communicator came to life, and the appearance of Duncan and Cambil appeared. 

“Max, Bexa, what’s going on?” McCallister asked his two former first officers, who now commanded their own ships.

“Sir, we’ve finished our investigation of the anomaly, and it has disappeared, and now there’s no trace of it,” Cambil reported. “It was definitely being generated by sporocystian energy.”

“And that’s not all,” Duncan indicated. “We’ve lost contact with the Astra. Karyn is preparing to take the Bellerophon to find out what’s happened.”

Hearing that news placed a chill down McCallister’s spine. The Astra, their brand new cadet training ship, was mapping a nearby gas giant. His son was on it. Furthermore, he was not surprised that his wife, who commanded the Bellerophon, was planning to get underway to discover what had happened. Nevertheless, he needed to get to grips with what they were all dealing with. Was this all some sort of elaborate plan orchestrated by the same species that had stranded Voyager in the Delta Quadrant over thirty years ago? Or were they dealing with a string of bad luck? He couldn’t tell. 

But before McCallister could sanction an immediate search and rescue for the Astra, another alarm went off on the Destiny’s bridge.

“Sirs, I’m detecting a massive displacement wave heading in our direction!” Lieutenant Chaoi announced. “It’s coming straight for all of us.”

“We can see it too; all of our ships are being affected by it,” Duncan confirmed, his voice also filled with dread at this latest danger and apprehension about dealing with the loss of the Astra. Like McCallister, he had both of his sons on it. What did any of this mean for them and their families? McCallister couldn’t work that out right now. 

“JP, we’ve got a similar displacement wave heading towards us at our location, too,” Cambil remarked, a tone of surprise washing over her as she realised that the same thing was about to confront them in their current situation. “What are your orders?”

Before communication was lost, McCallister ordered everyone to secure the squadron and brace for impact. 

The hum of the ship’s systems intensified, and the lights flickered as the massive displacement wave approached. McCallister’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing through a thousand scenarios, none of them good. He could see the wave’s disturbance on the viewscreen, a swirling mass of energy consuming everything in its path. The wave’s imminent arrival tightened his chest. Was Bennet responsible for this? McCallister could only consider this idea for a brief moment. Or was it the Nacene? He knew the Caretaker did the same thing to Voyager and other ships. Were they about to be hurtled across the galaxy? Did that happen to the Astra? 

The wave rippled through space, an unnatural distortion that felt alive, almost sentient. It wasn’t merely a wave of energy—it was something more, something that seemed to target them specifically. Every heartbeat echoed in McCallister’s ears as the hum of the ship’s systems grew erratic as if the Destiny was struggling to remain afloat in the ocean of chaos approaching. The wave stretched across the stars, twisting and pulsing like some dark, cosmic predator stalking its prey.

The Destiny’s crew held their breath, eyes wide, watching the fluctuating readings, uncertain whether the ship would survive the impending impact. Seconds felt like hours as the tension in the air became almost unbearable. All of them were working hard to prepare for the incoming threat—more power to the shields and the deflectors. That was all they could do. They couldn’t outrun it. 

And within seconds, the wave hit every ship in the squadron.