Captain John Harriman knew that taking on the responsibilities of commanding the newest starship to bear the name Enterprise would be difficult, but he’d never thought that most of his time would be spent on essentially public relations missions or good news interviews for the Federation News Service. In the last month since they’d launched from dry-dock, he’d spent more time in his ready room than on the bridge and it was starting to grate on him.
There was a reason to old Constitution-Class never had one, he realised, glancing around the office situation portside just behind the bridge. He reached for the mug beside him and brought it to his lips, only to discover it was empty. It must’ve been his second cup since starting today’s mountain of paperwork and he’d barely noticed it.
Just as Harriman was contemplating a third the intercom whistled. “Captain to the bridge.”
In a few seconds, he sprang to his feet and hurried out his office, crossed the corridor and stepped through one of the aft hatches that flanked the master system display. Lieutenant Russ Ibekwe, his chief tactical officer, noticed him first and announced, “Captain on the bridge.”
Harriman gave the handsome young man a nod as he rounded the weapons console and approached the communications station, where Commander Aralshaaran th’Khesh looked over the shoulder of Lieutenant Commander Stefan Kowalcyzk. Both men looked uneasy.
“Report.”
“We’ve picked up a signal on the distress frequency but it’s heavily distorted, sir,” th’Khesh explained as Kowalcyzk’s hands danced over his controls.
The captain frowned. The Enterprise-B was still well within Federation space, she wasn’t scheduled for any deep space missions anytime soon—much to his dismay—so for there to be an emergency close enough for them to pick up the signal was worrying indeed.
“I’ve managed to clear it up as much as I can, sir. Audio only.”
“On speakers.”
There was burst of static, followed by a voice so heavily garbled he couldn’t make out the persons gender. “…the transport ship Lakul…caught in some kind of energy distortion…can’t break free…need immediate help…tearing us apart…”
An eerie stillness fell upon the bridge, as all the officers and specialists looked at one another and then towards their Captain. Harriman stared at the communications displays for a moment longer, trying to quieten his raging thoughts. This was their first distress call, the first time they would be facing something truly unknown, the first time he and his crew would be properly tested and to prove themselves.
Squaring his shoulders, he looked across the bridge at Lieutenant Jill Donnelly. “Data on the Lakul.”
The science officer looked at her screens as she brought up the information. “She is one of two ships transporting El-Aurian refugees to Earth.”
“Can you triangulate their position?”
Donnelly nodded and worked her controls for a few seconds and studied the results. “The ships are bearing three-one-zero-mark-two-one-five. Distance: point-two-five light-years.”
Harriman clenched his jaw. Even at their maximum warp they were over an hour away, with their hulls already buckling would there be anything left of the two transports? He’d read the report on the El-Aurians, a group of refugees discovered on the edge of Federation space in the Beta Quadrant, whose ship was powerless and adrift—though little else was really known about them, with none of them willing or able to speak about what they’d been through. Barely four hundred survivors represented their entire known species, now facing another unknown danger.
“Castle, any other ships in the region?” he asked Lieutenant Commander Iain Castle.
The redheaded navigator shook his head. “The next closest would be six hours behind us, sir.”
“It’s all on us then,” Harriman muttered to himself, before moving to the centre of the bridge. In a clearer, more confident voice, he ordered, “Lay in an intercept course. Maximum warp.”
“Course set.”
“Ready for maximum warp, sir,” added Ensign Demora Sulu.
When he’d seen the name on the list of senior officer candidates he’d done a double take, for a brief second he thought he was seeing things or that is was some kind of hoax. He hadn’t wanted to be at the mercy of nepotism and, for a brief second, had consider ignoring newly-graduated officer, but he’d opened her personnel file and he was glad he had. The apple seemingly didn’t fall far from the tree in the Sulu family, as Demora had exceptional test scores as a helmsman (easily rivalling her father’s record, beating him in a few instances), as well as having the makings of a good engineer, an avid xenosociologist, and was a black belt in krav maga.
“Engage,” he ordered, taking his seat.
* * * * *
The sensor display on her console flashed. Demora Sulu took a calming breath, then looked over her shoulder at Captain Harriman. “We’re within visual range of the energy distortion, Captain.”
Immediately, he was on his feet and took a step closer to the viewscreen. In the seventy-one minutes it had taken them to close the distance, the entire bridge crew had been on tenterhooks. Every chirp and beep drawing attention, only to be dismissed as one of the many regular sounds made by the ships controls. At the Academy, they’d been instructed to maintain composure and follow their orders, even in the direst of circumstances they needed to keep a level head and do what was expected of them—of course, that was easier said than done.
Most others didn’t have the weight of a famous name on their shoulders to contend with.
“On screen.”
The image on the large forward screen switched from the familiar streaking of stars to, what she could only describe as, a savage wound against the blackness of space. A swirling mess of reds, oranges and yellows crackled with bursts of lightning.
Beside her, Castle exclaimed, “What the hell is that?”
For a second, she sat gaping at the energy ribbon, before she shook her head. Focus, Demora, she chided herself. Do your duty.
She concentrated once more on her sensor displays, trying to make sure she proved to Harriman and all the other older bridge staff that she deserved to be there for her talents and not just her father. When her scans suddenly showed two green indicators she smiled to herself.
“I’ve found the transport ships,” she announced.
“Magnify.”
She punched in the commands, focusing the visual scanners on the civilian ships and enlarging them to fill the viewscreen. As dangerous as the distortion field looked from the outside, it was even worse inside. The two Whorfin-Class transports were visibly buffeted and shaken, struggling to maintain their position, lights flickering throughout the bulky ships main hull, whilst tendrils of lightning and unknown energies slammed into both their hulls, scorching the metal and arcing between the fuselage and nacelles. There was no chance they’d be able to escape under their own power.
“Their hulls are starting to buckle under the stress,” Donnelly stated sombrely, “they won’t be able to survive much longer.”
Sulu’s proximity sensors chirped. “Sir, we’re coming into range of the distortion.”
“Drop us out of warp, Ensign, maintain seventy thousand kilometres from the outer edge of the energy field. Lieutenant, analysis.”
As she saw to their speed and position, she listened to everything that was going on around her. She glanced at her own telemetry readouts, but couldn’t make any sense of what she was looking at.
“I’ve having a hard time getting any usable information, sir. It’s made up of some sort of energy that isn’t in our databanks, it’s emitting a lot of gravitational forces and quantum distortion.”
The Enterprise jolted, hard. Sulu gripped her console, swallowing as she glanced up and around, waiting for it to happen again.
“We’re encountering severe gravimetric distortions from the energy ribbon,” reported Castle.
“We should maintain our distance, we don’t get pulled in too,” th’Khesh suggested.
“Can we tractor the ships out of the field?”
“Given their condition, neither ship would survive the tow, Captain,” Donnelly replied.
Harriman stepped down beside her station. “Ensign, try to generate a subspace field around the ships, that might ease the stress on their hulls and make it easier to pull them out.”
Sulu nodded, surprised at Harriman’s quick-thinking—though she guessed that was why he was the Captain. It took her only a few moments to tap in the commands, but as soon as she had numerous red indicators flashed up on her display. She tried another method but was met by the same response.
She looked back at him, shaking her head. “There’s too much quantum interference, Captain.”
He scowled. She could see in his eyes as he thought about what other options were available, after all he had over five hundred officers and crew on the Enterprise to keep in mind. He moved to Castle.
“We might be able to disrupt the ribbon’s hold on the ships by venting drive plasma from the warp nacelles.”
The navigator nodded. “That might work, sir,” he agreed as he input the commands. “Releasing plasma now.”
On the viewscreen, a pair of cobalt blue streams of warp plasma were emitted from the Excelsior-Class ships powerful engines. There was a tense beat of silence as the bridge crew watched hopefully. But as the plasma streams reached the ribbon their effects were almost immediately dispersed, not even getting close to the two trapped vessels within.
“It’s not having any effect, sir,” Castle said with a shake of his head. “I think—”
An alert flashed on her screen. “Sir!” she cut in. “The starboard vessel’s hull is collapsing!”
She snapped her head back towards the viewscreen, watching as fierce tendrils of energy engulfed the stricken transport. Strikes of unknown lightning slammed into it again and again, tearing off duranium panels and shearing off chunks of hull exposing the interior of the ship to hostile phenomena the ship was trapped within. Seconds later, the ship exploded in an intense but brief fireball.
The explosion rocked the other transport, as debris from her sister ship struck her own weakened hull.
Sulu was frozen in place, wanting to look away but unable to move her head. They had done everything right, but with so little to go on there was nothing they could do. She had never felt so helpless in all her life.
“How many were aboard?” Harriman asked as he straightened up, eyes also fixed to the screen.
“Crew of twenty-one. Two hundred and sixty-five refugees,” Donnelly replied with a hollow voice. An alert chirped and she looked at the associated display then back at the Captain. “The Lakul’s hull integrity is down to twelve percent, sir.”
Everyone on the bridge once again looked at Harriman, expectantly. His face was pale, but his posture was still straight. He closed his eyes for a second, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly. He was still standing close to the dual flight control stations, as such she could just hear him as he muttered, “The direct approach then.”
Clearly, so all could hear him, he ordered, “Helm, close to transporter range.”
Before she could confirm, Commander th’Khesh stepped forward. “Captain, the gravimetric distortions will tear us apart.”
“If we do nothing, Number One, we’ll bear witness to an entire species extinction. I think that warrants some risk on our part.”
Harriman held his First Officer’s steely stare, before the Andorian conceded and tapped the intercom panel. “All transporter operators to your stations, prepare for evacuations. Sickbay, standby to receive casualties.”
“Take us in, Ensign.”
“Aye sir,” she replied immediately, taking a steadying breath as she increased impulse power.
* * * * *
As soon as the ship drew closer the deck started to vibrate, which only grew stronger as they entered the outer edge of the energy field. Harriman returned to his chair once more, holding firmly onto the armrests as his ship shook. He fixed his eyes on the viewscreen, watching as they steadily approached the Lakul, as the volatile bursts of lightning passed by them.
It took them only minutes to close the distance.
“We’re in range, sir,” Sulu informed him, doing an admirable job of keeping her tone level—the young officer was definitely made of stern stuff.
Over his shoulder, he instructed Lieutenant Ibekwe, “Beam them directly to sickbay.”
The shaking intensified. “Engineering to bridge,” came the sultry voice of his chief engineer, Commander Zaya.
He tapped the companel on his armrest. “Go ahead.”
“Captain, we’re experiencing fluctuations across all warp plasma relays which are only getting worse the longer we’re inside this energy ribbon.”
“Understood, Commander. Hold her together as best you can, structural integrity and impulse are top priority.”
“I just got my hands on this ship, Captain, I’m not about to let some unknown phenomena take her from me. Zaya out.”
Despite the dire circumstances, Harriman couldn’t help but smile to himself—the Deltan engineer may have barely reached his chest, but she was a formidable woman he wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of.
“Captain,” interjected Ibekwe, “I’m having trouble locking onto them. They appear to be in some sort of…temporal flux.”
Unlike his predecessor, Harriman had chosen to have his first officer not serve as a department head as well, which allowed his most experienced officer to act as a floater, able to move from station to station and provide support where needed. So as soon as the tactical officer began, th’Khesh was already heading towards him. When he saw the Andorian’s antennae stand straight up he knew things were bad.
“Their life signs are phasing in and out of our space-time continuum,” he reported as he worked with Ibekwe to try and establish a lock.
Harriman spun from tactical to science. “Phasing to where?”
Before Donnelly could reply Castle called out, “Sir! Their hull’s collapsing!”
He turned back to the viewscreen as the transports lights cut out and the ship was pounded from every direction with vicious tendrils of energy. Like the first ship they lost, the hull was ripped apart, her port nacelle was torn off just before the stricken civilian ship exploded. The loss of the second ship blanketed the bridge in silence once again.
Their first trial by fire was already proving to be something of a disaster. He could only hope they’d had some degree of luck. Slowly he looked back at th’Khesh and Ibekwe. Both men looked exhausted and dismayed.
“We got forty-seven from the refugee sections,” th’Khesh paused, his antennae drooped, “out of one hundred fifty, we couldn’t lock on to any of the twenty-five crew.”
The ship slammed violently to starboard. In an instance, the eerie stillness of his first officers update was consumed by chaos. Klaxons blared as their lights dimmed and flickered, metal groaned and there was a sharp taste of ozone in the air a second before one of the consoles on the upper level erupted in flames, sending shrapnel across the bridge. Castle took the worst of it, throwing him to the deck unblinking eyes cast up to the darkened bridge dome.
Harriman managed to hold on tight, his knuckles turning white from the effort. Amazingly, th’Khesh managed to stay on his feet and stumbled towards navigation.
“Report!”
“We’re caught in the gravimetric field emanating from the trailing edge of the ribbon,” Sulu yelled over the din.
“All engines, full reverse!”
The vibrations intensified as the Enterprise struggled to pull free, the hull creaking and groaning in protest as the forces being applied to the ship were greater than what she could produce. Without being told, as the ribbons mysterious energies lashed against their hull, he knew that they couldn’t break away.
* * * * *
No!
They were gone. It was all gone. The sheer bliss she’d known just a heartbeat before was lost, replaced with the sadness, grief, anger and despair that she’d felt for so long she’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel anything else.
Guinan braced herself against the wall, the metal was cold against her palm. All around were panicked and angry cries from familiar voices, but she couldn’t single out any of them let alone what they were saying—which was one of the first talents a good listener was taught—but their pleas and protests were mirrored inside her own mind.
Wherever she was too bright, the glare hurt her eyes, though it wasn’t that that was making them water. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to go back, she’d been happy then, there was no loss, no pain, no Borg. Her family had been around her, all of them laughing and smiling—it had been so long since she’d remember them like that. She clung to the memory as tightly as she could, she couldn’t let them go. Not again.
The air had only a trace of smell, like disinfectant, not unlike the scents of baking breads, roasting meat, steaming vegetables she’d filled her lungs with as she’d sat with those she loved. But it was gone.
“No!” a pained wail cut through all the noise, drawing her attention.
She looked towards the source and saw Tolian Soran, the side of his face bloody for an open wound. His eyes were wide, crazed as he grabbed a figure in white
“It’s alright. We’re going to take care of you,” the white-clad man said, his voice soft and reassuring.
“Why?” Soran challenged. “Why!”
“It’s going to be alright—”
“No! I have to go back…I have to!” he ranted, applying the frantic strength of a cornered Tarcassian razor beast. “You don’t understand…I have to!”
A purple-skinned woman in white stepped up behind him and applied a device to his neck. Suddenly he went limp, eyes growing heavy as he shouts became slurred and then fell silent.
Guinan shut her eyes tight and rested her forehead on the metal wall.
She flinched when a hand rested on her shoulder.
“Are you alright?” a sympathetic voice asked.
She looked up to see the purple-skinned woman again, a warm smile on her face. All she could do was look at her, unable to find the words. How could she ever be alright again?
* * * * *
The ship rocked and jostled constantly, making it hard to see straight. Harriman stayed seated as his crew worked to formulate a plan to escape the energy ribbon that had already destroyed two ships and now threatened the Enterprise.
“Inertial dampeners failing,” Sulu stated as the shaking and rattling grew worse.
“Bridge, if we keep this up we’re going to end up blowing the impulse reactors,” Commander Zaya reported from main engineering.
Harriman looked around his crew. “Options.”
“There’s no way to disrupt a gravimetric field of this magnitude,” th’Khesh said solemnly.
“Hull integrity failing,” called Ibekwe.
“We don’t need to disrupt the whole field, just open up a gap large enough for us to escape,” Donnelly said as she worked across multiple screens.
“Lieutenant?”
The science officer glanced back at him. “An antimatter discharge directly ahead of us might disrupt the field long enough for us to break away.”
He flashed her a quick smile. “Mister Ibekwe, load photon torpedoes.”
“Captain, to produce the disruption we’ll need to detonate the torpedo in close proximity to the ship,” the tactical officer informed him.
“Understood. Prepare to fire.”
“Aye sir.”
The shaking worsened. Harriman pushed himself as far back into his chair as he could, then glanced at communications. “Kowalcyzk, alert all decks.”
“Torpedo armed and loaded, sir.”
“Fire.”
On the viewscreen, he watched as a single photon torpedo launched from the stardrive section. It flew ahead of them into the maw of chaotic energy they were caught within, eight seconds after being fired it detonated. The ship juddered with the shockwave, but nothing else happened.
“No effect,” confirmed Ibekwe.
“Hull integrity at thirty percent and dropping,” th’Khesh stated. “At current rate, the hull will collapse in forty-five seconds.”
“Donnelly?”
“Alter the resonance pattern of the torpedo, that should work.”
“Do it and half the time until detonation.”
“Aye sir,” Ibekwe replied as he made the necessary adjustments in only a few seconds. “Torpedo ready.”
“Thirty seconds to structural collapse.”
“Fire!”
Their second torpedo launched. Four seconds later it exploded, hitting the ship with a harsher shockwave and opening up a small gap in the multicoloured ribbon of energy, through which he could see star speckled blackness.
“Sulu, all power to the engines.”
Her finger was already poised to hit the control. With all the effort the new starship could muster, her quartet of sublight engines pushed her into the opening. The energy field lashed out, ripping into their hull, smacking the ship hard enough to throw him and several others from their seats.
“I’m increasing power to compensate,” shouted Sulu, who had somehow managed to stay at her post as the shaking grew even worse.
Harriman clenched his teeth as he scrambled back to his chair. He had just made it when suddenly all the motion stopped. For a beat he looked around, surprised to feel not even a vibration.
“We’re clear,” Sulu called out relieved, slouching back into her chair.
He sighed to himself, feeling the same relief as his rookie helmsman. “Damage report.”
“Hull integrity is down to eight percent. There’s extensive buckling to the starboard nacelle. We’ve also got a hull breach in the engineering hull, decks thirteen, fourteen and fifteen, sections twenty through twenty-eight—emergency forcefields in place and holding,” th’Khesh rattled off.
“Casualties?”
Kowalcyzk, holding his earpiece in place, looked over his shoulder at Harriman. “Getting multiple reports of injured from across the ship,” he hesitated. “Eight confirmed dead, Captain.”
Harriman hung his head for a moment. Everyone in uniform knew that being in Starfleet was risky, it was their mission to face the unknown as such there were no guarantees, but that never made it easy to lose people—especially when they were his responsibility.
“Begin broadcasting a call for assistance,” he instructed.
* * * * *
END
