“New contact, captain.” Lieutenant Saffron Helsing reported as she tapped at the helm console. The USS Franklin D. Roosevelt had broken off from the USS Zephyr to investigate traces of the Tougun Network.
Captain Peter Crawford sat in the command chair, watching the stars stream by. “Distance and location?” They’d started tracking remnants of the Tougun Network from the equipment they had recovered from the injured lieutenants. Captain Bradley had assigned his security department head to continue the investigation at the trade post on the planet.
“Ten minutes away. Signal is not constant.”
The focused voice of their science chief, Vlokar, answered without being asked. “Clarifying.”
Crawford shifted in his chair to watch the Vulcan work. It was amusing and encouraging that he had two Vulcans serving on his senior staff. Vlokar was new to the human experience, while Penna had been around them more through her postings to Bravo Station and others. Separately, they brought incredible minds to the table. Together, they could be a clarifying voice of reason and logic.
Vlokar’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “Reading a small station, unknown classification. Non-Federation. Long-range sensors are detecting fluctuating power readings. Additional sensor readings are inconclusive.”
Peter turned his chair back to the main viewscreen, “What you’re saying without saying is that we need to get closer. Much closer.” He turned to his left, where his XO, Lieutenant Grace Albright, sat at the diplomatic operations station. “Options?”
He watched as she tapped at her console and turned to face him. She had resisted the posting at the start. He wasn’t sure that her feelings had improved. “We can go in quietly, mask as much as we can, and work our passive sensors until we have a better picture of the situation.” She shrugged. “If we move too slowly, we risk losing evidence or witnesses if we take too long to get to them.” Albright turned back to her console, eyeing her display as it updated with new sensor reports. “It’s highly unlikely there’s a trap present – the Vaadwaur would not be ones to stick around with our senses restored.” She shifted her chair back to face her CO, “I recommend going in with all the lights and sirens on, sir.”
Crawford replied to her with a nod before ordering the helm on an intercept course, maximum warp. What would they find, he wondered.
And who?
Crawford stood in the center of the bridge, hands behind his back. The lights had faded to a dull yellow, and the gentle klaxon had rang out for thirty seconds while the shields surrounded the starship, and every pair of eyes on the bridge examined their displays carefully. Directly ahead was the small station. “Mr. Vlokar,” he asked.
The chief science officer ran down the report. “Station’s structure is critical – reading multiple decks in a collapsed condition. There are three hull breaches on all sides of that station. No lifesigns detected. The small shuttle bay is empty of any support craft.”
Peter turned and walked past his command chair to where Vlokar sat at the rear of the bridge. “Indications of weapons fire?”
The Vulcan adjusted the sensors as the displays clarified. He cocked his head to the side, appearing confused. “Fascinating.” He worked the console further and pointed out on the display as he spoke, “The station’s external hull has no signs of weapons fire of any kind. There are faint readings of weapons discharge on the interior.”
Crawford leaned against the wall. “They tore the station apart from the inside?”
Peter watched as Vlokar worked out several scenarios in rapid succession before turning to face him. “It is not outside the realm of possibility. The Vaadwaur had many weapons and devices at their disposal. However, I think there is another possibility.” Vlokar returned to his console and ran additional scenarios. He shifted them to the viewscreen and walked to the front of the bridge as the image of his theory played out. “Given the type of structural damage with both hull breaches and decks buckling, I believe the Vaadwaur used high-powered tractor beams to get answers from those on the station.” He gestured to the screen as the bridge crew collectively gasped. The station was pulled by tractor beams, slowly at first, then began to speed up, spinning more and more until the damage became visible. “There are indications they used the tractor beams to pull smaller sections off the station. Sensors are picking up multiple small modules farther out.” He returned to his station while Crawford walked back to the command chair.
Crawford stared at the broken station. His XO, Lieutenant Grace Albright, turned in her chair. “Captain, we’ve isolated several warp trails leaving the station. Most of them are Vaadwaur in nature. There is one that comes back as an older model Federation shuttle. Its course takes it into a nearby asteroid field.”
Peter remained locked onto the station as he wondered aloud, “This is starting to feel like we’re searching for a pebble in the middle of a dust planet.” He ordered, “Lieutenant Albright, take a team to the station. See what you can get from the computers, logs…anything. Lieutenant Helsing – take a shuttle into the asteroid field to track the signal. Vlokar, you’re with her.”
The officers stood and made their way to the turbolifts. Albright stopped by Crawford, her face full of questions. She asked, “You think there’s a trap in this somewhere?”
His sly smile confused her, and he explained. “You’re starting to figure out I don’t trust a lot out here in the rimward – I appreciate an XO who’s learning how her CO operates. I’m impressed, is all.”
She held his gaze for a moment longer. There was a lot hidden behind her eyes, and he wondered how long it would take for her to trust him in the way he needed. Standing at attention, Albright walked to the turbolift and was gone.
Peter pushed his worries about her adaptation to the back, for now.
They had a mystery to solve.