Author’s Note:This chapter picks up three hours after the briefing. Philip’s orders ripple outward, but so do the consequences. Watch for Heather’s quiet strength and the first signs of what Earth left behind.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Three Hours Later

  Philip exited the briefing room with all four security team leaders behind him.

  “You have your orders,” he said. “Carry on.”

  He turned to leave, but a familiar voice called out.

  “Philip!”

  He turned to see his sister, Heather Banks, hurrying toward him.

  “Lt. Commander,” she said formally, “I need to inform you that I have four security officers in sickbay after a mishap during a training mission on Earth.”

  Philip nodded. “I’ll assign four members of Beta Team to temporarily reinforce Alpha.” Heather—meet me in my quarters after your shift.”

  She nodded, and they parted ways.

  Philip headed to the armory, where he began issuing phasers to Alpha Team.

  “Ensigns Campbell, Jones, Quick, and Floyd,” he called out, “report to Lt. Banks for temporary assignment to Alpha Team.”

  As he finished distributing weapons, his combadge chirped.

  “This is Lt. Commander Banks.”

  “This is the captain,” K’sigh replied. “I want to meet with my senior officers in thirty minutes in my ready room.”

  “On my way, sir.”

  Philip secured the armory and made his way to the ready room.

  When he entered, he found he was one of the first to arrive. He also noticed someone he hadn’t seen since the Academy Kita.

  She turned slightly, catching him in her peripheral vision. Her tail twitched with recognition, and she smiled. Philip felt a brief surge of nostalgia — it had been years since the Academy.

  “Lieutenant,” Philip said warmly, “how have you been?”

  “Very well, thank you,” she replied.

  Before they could say more, the doors opened. Captain K’sigh and Commander Fakowerfo stepped inside. Everyone stood at attention.

  “Be seated,” the captain said.

  He took his pce at the head of the table. “I’d like to hear from my officers. Engineering—report.”

  Lt. Commander Dax straightened. “Warp drive will be online within the hour, Captain. Weapons systems as well. All other systems are running at one hundred percent.”

  “Science.”

  Kita spoke next. “All sensors and probes are installed and calibrated. We’ve also upgraded the computer cores to triple their expected processing capacity.”

  “Medical.”

  Lt. Commander Sarir folded her hands. “Sickbay is fully operational and ready for casualties. However, I remain… cautious regarding the holographic doctor’s reliability.”

  K’sigh nodded. “Noted. Tactical and Security.”

  Philip stood. “All hand weapons are accounted for and secured in coded lockers. Only command codes from myself, the security team leaders, the Emergency Security Hologram, the Captain, and the First Officer will unlock them. Weapons systems will be online in about an hour. Targeting systems appear ready, but I recommend testing them during the shakedown cruise. I also request authorization to schedule drills for security and tactical personnel, as well as junior officers and crewmen who may benefit.”

  “Approved,” the captain said. “Good,” K’sigh said, his tone approving. “Thank you for your reports. Return to your duty stations. We depart in two hours.”

  The officers rose and filed out, the Camelot’s first mission drawing ever closer. The command staff rose and exited the ready room. As they stepped onto the bridge, several of them paused, taking in the redesigned command center with a sense of awe. The soft thrum of the power grid vibrated beneath their boots, a steady reminder that the Camelot was waking up. The Camelot’s bridge looked rger than before, the clutter of older designs repced by clean lines and open space.

  Every station now featured a fully integrated chair — each equipped with a four point harness and padded wrap around arm and leg rests. During red alert, the restraints would automatically slide into pce, securing the officer and protecting their limbs from sudden impacts.

  At the center of the bridge sat three chairs: the captain’s in the middle, fnked by the first officer’s seat on the right and a dedicated medical officer’s chair on the left. Directly ahead and slightly to the right was the helm — CONN — while OPS sat to the left, responsible for navigation, internal systems, and monitoring all away missions.

  Behind and to the right of the command chairs were three science stations. Directly aft of the captain’s position stood the Security/Tactical station. To the left, slightly behind, was Engineering’s bridge console, manned by the chief engineer or a designated officer.

  Philip approached Tactical, and Ensign Cassie Jones began to rise from the seat.

  He waved her down. “Stay. You’re on duty.”

  She nodded and returned to her console. Philip stepped behind her, scanning the tactical readouts. Everything was green. Everything was ready.

  Satisfied, he turned and entered the turbolift.

  “Security office,” he ordered.

  The lift hummed to life, carrying him down through the decks. When the doors opened, he stepped into the quiet corridor leading to the brig. With no prisoners aboard, the area felt hollow and still.

  Philip raised his voice. “All security team leaders, report to the brig for a briefing.”

  He entered his office, reviewing his notes until the team leaders arrived. When they were all seated, he began.

  “Let me start by saying I’m proud to serve with all of you. I selected each of you based on your Academy performance and the recommendations of your former commanders. You are the best of the best.”

  He tapped the padd in his hand.

  “To keep us sharp, I’ll be scheduling and overseeing multiple drills in the holodeck. Every security officer — including myself — will be tested. Commander Fakowerfo and I will grade the results. I expect nothing less than perfection, though I understand it may take a few attempts.”

  He looked around the room, meeting each officer’s eyes.

  “Other departments will conduct their own drills as well. And if you see something we can improve, bring it to me. We’re only as strong as our weakest oversight.”

  He closed the padd. “Return to your duty shifts. Keep up the excellent work.” “Let’s get to work.”

  The officers filed out. Philip was the st to leave — and found his sister, Lieutenant Heather Banks, waiting just outside the door.

  “We need to talk,” she said quietly.

  He nodded and led her to his quarters. Once inside, he gestured for her to sit.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Heather leaned forward, her expression serious. “I got a message from Mom and Dad. Daren’s been accepted into Starfleet Academy. He’s chosen security — following us.”

  Philip felt a flicker of pride warm his chest.

  “And Brian?” he asked.

  “He’s been assigned to Admiral Janeway’s security staff. They’re working on new defensive measures against the Borg.”

  Philip’s smile was small but genuine. “He always did love a challenge.”

  They talked for hours — about family, the Academy, the Camelot, and the mission ahead. Eventually, Heather excused herself and returned to her quarters.

  When she entered, her console chimed with an awaiting message.

  “Computer, py message.”

  The screen went bck, then shifted to dispy the stark, unmistakable emblem of Section 31.

  A figure in shadow spoke. “Is anyone aware of your mission or membership in our agency?”

  “No,” Heather replied calmly. “No one is aware. Even my brother is unaware.”“What are my orders?” Heather asked.

  “Your orders are to maintain secrecy,” the shadowed figure replied. “Submit reports on potential threats as they develop. We will update or alter your mission parameters whenever we deem it necessary.”

  The screen went dark.

  Heather leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. “Sorry, brother,” she whispered. “But I have higher orders.” Her hands trembled — barely — before she forced them still.

  She shut off her monitor, stood, and walked into the bathroom. After changing for bed, she slipped beneath the covers, though sleep came only reluctantly.

  Across the ship, Philip tossed and turned. His dreams were vivid and brutal — Heather on a pnet surface with a nding party, the sky dark with Borg drones. He saw her struck down, injected with assimition nanites, dragged away as she screamed his name.

  He jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His heart hammered against his ribs, refusing to slow

  Breathing hard, he stumbled into the bathroom and spshed cold water on his face. The nightmare clung to him like a shadow. He sat at his desk, activated his monitor, and forced his voice steady.

  “Computer, dispy the st two months of developments and reports from Admiral Janeway’s security staff regarding the Borg.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Files and tactical analyses filled the screen. Philip read through them carefully — new weapons concepts, shield modution theories, counter nanite protocols. When he finished, he composed a message to his older brother, outlining several ideas for improving Starfleet’s anti Borg strategies.

  Only after sending it did he finally dress in a clean uniform and head to the bridge.

  Departure was still seven hours away, but everything was ready.

  Philip left the bridge and made his way to the holodeck. He had a simution in mind — the first of many training sessions he intended to run.

  A combined command and tactical exercise.

  Against the Borg.

  The scenario began with the U.S.S. Camelot on a routine scientific mission. A Borg scout ship appeared on long range sensors. From there, the outcome depended entirely on the choices made by the participants: escape, destroy the Borg vessel… or be assimited.

  Four hours ter, Philip ended the simution and returned to his quarters. Exhaustion finally overtook him, and he slept.

  Four hours after that, he woke, showered, dressed, and reported to the bridge. He relieved the night shift tactical officer and took his station.

  Moments ter, the turbolift doors opened.

  “Captain on the bridge,” someone called. At the helm, Lieutenant Rourke straightened in his seat, hands poised over the flight controls.

  Lieutenant T’Raal at OPS adjusted internal sensor routing, her eyes flicking across the dispys.

  At Communications, Ensign Hale verified shipwide channels, her posture crisp as she acknowledged the captain’s arrival.

  “At ease,” K’sigh said as he stepped forward. “Mr. Banks, intraship communication.”

  “Aye, sir. Channel open.”

  K’sigh stood tall, his voice carrying the weight of command.

  “This is the Captain. All hands, prepare to leave Spacedock. Our destination is Deep Space Fourteen. Starfleet has lost contact with the station. Our mission is to investigate and, if necessary, conduct a rescue operation.”

  He turned toward the helm. “Helm, take us out Rourke’s fingers danced across the controls, guiding the Camelot forward with practiced precision. Once clear of Spacedock, set course for Deep Space Fourteen. Warp six. OPS confirmed power distribution with a nod from T’Raal, while Hale monitored outgoing transmissions for clearance signals. Estimated travel time: six days.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  K’sigh lowered himself into the command chair. “Dispy departure on the main viewer.”

  The viewscreen shifted to show the massive Spacedock doors opening, revealing Earth and the stars beyond. The Camelot glided forward, engines humming with restrained power.

  Once clear, the ship angled toward the stars.

  “Course id in,” the helmsman reported. “Warp six ready.”

  “Engage.”

  The Camelot leapt into warp, streaking toward Deep Space Fourteen — and whatever mystery awaited them there.

  The Camelot cut through warp space at a steady pace, her crew settling into the rhythm of their first day underway. Routine checks, quiet conversations, and the hum of the engines filled the bridge.

  Then Kita stiffened.

  Her ears twitched, her tail froze, and she spun in her chair.

  “Captain — I’m picking up strange readings. It appears there was a battle in this sector.”

  Captain K’sigh rose from his chair. “On screen.”

  The starscape vanished, repced by a tactical overy from the science station — a sector map littered with debris signatures and energy distortions.

  “Mr. Banks,” the captain said, “what are your readings telling you about threats in the area?”

  Philip studied the tactical dispy. “No immediate threats identified, Captain. However… the readings indicate a battle involving Klingon, Romun, Cardassian, and Federation vessels. There’s also an unidentified weapons signature and ion trail. It’s not in our database, but it feels… vaguely familiar. The unknown vessel’s trail leads toward Deep Space Fourteen.”

  K’sigh’s jaw tightened. “Helm, drop to impulse. Let’s investigate.”

  “Aye, sir.” At Helm, Rourke eased the ship out of warp readiness posture.

  T’Raal at OPS rerouted additional power to long range sensors.

  Hale scanned for distress calls or encrypted transmissions.

  The viewer returned to the starscape as the Camelot decelerated. Moments ter, Kita spoke again.

  “Captain… I’m reading at least four vessels. All drifting. No power. No life signs.”

  Philip stepped forward. “Recommend we send security teams to secure the ships, followed by engineering and science teams.”

  The captain nodded. “Lt. Commander Banks, assemble your teams and notify me when ready to transport. I want four security officers, two engineers, and two science officers on each vessel.”

  Philip stood. “Aye, sir.”

  He entered the turbolift. “Armory.”

  The doors opened, and Philip strode inside.

  “Commander Dax, Lt. Kita — report to the armory.”

  While he waited, he activated the Emergency Security Hologram.

  “Access code, please,” the hologram requested.

  “Authorization Alpha Omega 1 9 7 5 Delta.”

  “Code accepted. What are your orders, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “I need sixteen Type III phaser rifles and thirty two combat EV suits. Transport them to Transporter Room Two once assembled.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  As the hologram began gathering equipment, Dax and Kita entered.

  “Lieutenant, Commander,” Philip said, “select seven of your best personnel. Meet me in Transporter Room Two in thirty minutes.”

  They nodded and departed.

  Transporter Room Two was already humming with activity when Philip arrived. The transporter chief looked up.

  “Coordinates for all four ships are locked in, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Security officers filed in first. A moment ter, crates of rifles and EV suits materialized in the corner.

  Philip stepped forward.

  “Listen up. We’ve encountered four derelict vessels — a Romun Warbird, a Klingon Vor’cha css battle cruiser, a Cardassian Galor css warship, and a Federation Sovereign css starship. All are without power or life support. We’ll be in combat EV suits until systems are restored.”

  He paced slowly, meeting each officer’s eyes.

  “Teams will consist of four security officers, two engineers, and two science officers. Security beams over first. Secure the bridge and main engineering. Once secured, engineering will restore life support and primary systems. Science will beam to the bridge to begin data retrieval.”

  He paused. “Questions?”

  Silence.

  “Very well. Security — arm yourselves with the rifles in the crate. Set them to heavy stun.”

  He tapped his padd. “Team assignments are as follows…”

  Philip lifted his padd and began reading off the team assignments.

  “For the Romun Warbird, the security detail will be myself, Ensigns Coulter, Bradshaw, and Lear. Science officers will be Lt. Commander Kita and Crewman Miller. Engineering will consist of Lt. Commander Dax and Crewman Moore.”

  He shifted to the next team.

  “For the Klingon Vor’cha css battle cruiser, the security team will be Lt. Crandall, Ensign Mitchell, Crewman Stiles, and Crewman Dillion. Science officers will be Lt. Campbell and Crewman Fountain. Engineering will be Lt. Angle and Crewman Thomas.”

  He continued without pause.

  “The Cardassian ship will be secured by Lt. Banks, Ensign Pickering, Crewman Griffon, and Crewman Downing. Science officers will be Lt. Devore and Crewman Steinman. Engineering will be Lt. Eddington and Crewman Allen.”

  Finally:

  “For the Federation starship, security will be Lt. Smith, Ensign Thogmartin, Crewman Munyon, and Crewman Gibson. Science officers will be Lt. Lee and Crewman Floyd. Engineering will be Lt. Walton and Crewman Welton.”

  He lowered the padd.

  “You will also notice that each science team includes a medic. We don’t know what we’ll find aboard these ships, so safety is our priority.”

  Philip stepped forward, voice firm.

  “If there is nothing else, prepare for transport. Pad One will be for engineering teams. Pad Two will be for bridge teams.”

  He began assigning the initial boarding positions.

  “Security detail assignments are as follows:

  Romun Warbird

  ? Bridge: myself and Crewman Lear

  ? Engineering: Ensign Coulter and Crewman Bradshaw

  Klingon Vor’cha

  ? Bridge: Ensign Mitchell and Crewman Stiles

  ? Engineering: Lt. Crandall and Crewman Dillion

  Cardassian Galor css

  ? Bridge: Lt. Banks and Ensign Pickering

  ? Engineering: Crewmen Griffon and Downing

  Federation Sovereign css

  ? Bridge: Lt. Smith and Ensign Munyon

  ? Engineering: Ensign Thogmartin and Crewman Gibson”

  He looked around the room.

  “Teams, report to your assigned pads. Set phasers to heavy stun. We will transport in this order: Romun, Klingon, Cardassian, and then Federation. Communications will remain open at all times.”

  The security officers moved into position. The transporter chief looked to Philip for confirmation.

  Philip nodded. “Energize.”

  The pads lit up, and the first away teams vanished in a swirl of shimmering blue light

  Camelot — Main Bridge

  “Captain,” OPS reported, “we’ve identified three of the four derelict ships and their commanding officers. The Klingon vessel is the Vornag, commanded by Captain K’Ganok. The Romun ship is the Tomed, commanded by Commander Nolok. The Federation vessel is the USS Chicago, commanded by Captain Ashley Elwood. We still can’t locate registry data for the Cardassian ship.”

  Another officer turned from her console. “Message from Starfleet, sir. They’re dispatching four ships to tow or skeleton crew the derelicts back to the nearest starbase for repairs and data recovery. They’ve also contacted the Klingon Empire, the Romun Republic, and the Cardassian Union. Their teams will rendezvous at the starbase to assist.”

  K’sigh exhaled slowly. “Let’s hope our away teams are successful.”

  ? Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge

  Lt. Commander Philip Banks and Crewman Lear materialized on the darkened bridge. Emergency lights flickered weakly, casting long shadows across consoles and bodies.

  Philip swept the room with his rifle. “Secure the bridge.”

  Lear moved to the nearest station, tricorder humming. “Multiple bodies, sir. No lifesigns.”

  Philip tapped his combadge. “Lt. Commander Banks to Ensign Coulter. Report.”

  “Engineering secure, sir,” Coulter replied. “Several bodies here as well. Scans show no lifesigns.”

  “Understood. Stand by.” Philip signaled the Camelot. “Beam over the science and engineering teams.”

  Moments ter, Lt. Kita and Crewman Miller materialized and immediately began scanning.

  Coulter’s voice returned. “Engineers have arrived, sir. They estimate thirty minutes to restore full power if everything goes smoothly.”

  “Thank you, Ensign. Stay alert and continue scanning for life signs.”

  ? Klingon Vornag — Bridge

  Ensign Mitchell and Crewman Stiles materialized amid the wreckage of the Klingon command deck. Bodies y slumped over consoles, armor torn, faces frozen in mid battle fury.

  Mitchell scanned quickly. “No lifesigns.”

  “Engineering secure,” Lt. Crandall reported over comms. “No survivors. Requesting the rest of the team.”

  “Proceed,” Philip ordered.

  ? Cardassian Galor css Keldor — Bridge

  Lt. Heather Banks and Ensign Pickering materialized into a bridge filled with the eerie stillness of death. Cardassian officers y where they had fallen, their wounds severe but bloodless.

  Pickering scanned. “No lifesigns, Lieutenant.”

  Downing’s voice came through the comm. “Engineering secure. No survivors. Systems offline but intact.”

  “Understood,” Heather replied. “Beam the rest of the team aboard.”

  ? USS Chicago — Bridge

  Lt. Smith and Crewman Munyon materialized on the Sovereign css bridge. The familiar Starfleet yout made the scene even more unsettling.

  Munyon scanned. “No lifesigns, sir.”

  Thogmartin’s voice followed. “Engineering secure. No survivors. Warp core stable. Requesting the rest of the team.”

  “Proceed,” Smith said.

  ? Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge (continued)

  Philip turned to Lear. “Anything biological?”

  Lear shook his head. “No sir. Not even residual traces. If not for the bodies, I’d say no one was ever here. It’s like the ship was computer operated.”

  Philip frowned. “And the wounds—”

  “Exactly,” Lear said. “They should have bled out the entire deck. But there’s almost no blood.”

  Before Philip could respond, the emergency lights surged to life, bathing the bridge in red.

  Coulter’s voice crackled through. “Ensign Coulter to Lt. Commander Banks. We have emergency power and minimal life support restored. Main power should be online in thirty minutes.”

  “Acknowledged. Have Dax begin pulling all avaible data as soon as she can.”

  Philip turned to the team. “Once you’re out of your EV suits, have them transported back to the Camelot.”

  The suits shimmered away in a transporter beam.

  “Lt. Kita,” Philip asked, “can you access the main computer yet?”

  “Not until main power is restored, sir.”

  Philip tapped his combadge. “Lt. Commander Banks to all team leaders. Status reports.”

  Crandall responded first. “Still working on main power, sir. Life support and emergency power restored.”

  Heather Banks followed. “We have full power restored on the Cardassian ship. Files downloaded and transmitting to the Camelot now.”

  Ensign Pickering added, “Warp core undamaged, sir. Full power restored. Transmitting all findings. This ship was fresh out of dry dock after a refit.”

  Philip nodded grimly. “Understood. Continue your work.”

  Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge

  Lt. Commander Banks stood over the main console as emergency power flickered to life. Kita’s fingers danced across the interface.

  “Sir,” she said quietly, “I have access to the crew manifest.”

  “Dispy it.”

  The Romun roster appeared — names, ranks, assignments.

  Kita’s ears fttened. “Sir… the entire command crew is missing.”

  Philip leaned closer. “Missing?”

  “Not dead. Not aboard. Their biosigns aren’t in the logs. They simply… vanish from the record at the same timestamp.”

  Lear swallowed. “Same time the battle started?”

  Kita nodded. “Exactly.”

  Philip tapped his combadge. “Banks to all teams. Check your crew manifests. Confirm status of command staff.”

  ? Klingon Vornag — Bridge

  Lt. Crandall’s voice came through first.

  “Crandall to Banks. Confirmed. Captain K’Ganok and all senior officers are missing. No bodies. No logs of their departure. They’re just… gone.”

  ? Cardassian Keldor — Bridge

  Heather Banks followed.

  “Lt. Banks here. Same situation. Gul Relmak and every department head are missing. The rest of the crew is dead — severe trauma, but almost no blood loss.”

  ? USS Chicago — Bridge

  Lt. Smith added the final piece.

  “Smith to Banks. Captain Elwood and all senior staff are missing. No trace of them. Same timestamp as the others.”

  ? Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge

  Philip exhaled slowly.

  Four ships.

  Four command crews.

  All vanished at the exact same moment.

  “Teams,” he said, “continue gathering data. Camelot needs everything.”

  ? Camelot — Main Bridge

  Data streamed across the tactical and science consoles as the away teams transmitted their findings.

  OPS spoke first. “Captain, we’re receiving full logs from the Cardassian and Federation ships. Romun and Klingon data is partial but readable.”

  K’sigh folded his arms. “Analysis.”

  Kita’s voice came through the comm from the Tomed. “Captain, all four ships show identical sensor anomalies in the minutes before the battle. A faint energy signature — unknown origin.”

  Dax added from the Klingon ship, “The signature appears to be a form of directed energy, but not like any weapon we know. It bypassed shields.”

  OPS chimed in. “Captain… the same signature was detected in the debris field we passed earlier.”

  K’sigh’s eyes narrowed. “Location?”

  “Heading toward Deep Space Fourteen.”

  The bridge fell silent.

  ? Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge

  Kita suddenly stiffened. “Sir… I’m detecting something.”

  Philip turned. “What kind of something?”

  “An energy spike. Same signature as the one that hit these ships. Very faint. Very distant. But—”

  The console chirped sharply.

  “It’s moving,” she whispered. “Fast.”

  Philip stepped closer. “Direction?”

  Kita swallowed. “Deep Space Fourteen.”

  ? Camelot — Main Bridge

  OPS’ console lit up.

  “Captain… long range sensors just picked up a faint energy trail. Same unknown signature. It’s… accelerating.”

  K’sigh stood. “Toward the station?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can we identify it?”

  OPS shook her head. “No, sir. But whatever it is… it’s not like anything in our database.”

  Philip’s voice came through the comm, low and steady.

  “Captain… I think we’ve found our first clue about what happened here.”

  K’sigh replied, “And our first hint of the enemy.”

  Camelot — Main Bridge

  One by one, the away teams reported in.

  “Lt. Crandall to Camelot — Klingon vessel secure. No survivors. Data transmitted.”

  “Lt. Banks here — Cardassian ship fully powered. Files sent.”

  “Lt. Smith — Chicago secure. Engineering stable. Logs transmitted.”

  “Lt. Commander Banks — Romun ship stable. Awaiting main power.”

  K’sigh nodded. “All teams, prepare for return. Tactical teams Echo, Foxtrot, Golf, and Hotel — stand by in cargo bays and transporter rooms.”

  The tactical squads — armored, armed, and ready — took their positions. The Camelot was bracing for whatever came next.

  ? Romun Warbird Tomed — Bridge

  Main power surged online.

  Kita’s console lit up. “Sir… I have something.”

  Philip stepped beside her. “What is it?”

  “A partial visual record. The st thing the Tomed’s sensors captured before the battle.”

  “Put it through.”

  The screen flickered, distorted… then stabilized just long enough to show:

  A shape.

  Angur.

  Wrong.

  Like a starship built by someone who had only heard of starships.

  Smooth hull.

  No visible weapons.

  No windows.

  A faint, pulsing glow along its spine — like a heartbeat.

  Then the image cut to static.

  Lear whispered, “Sir… that’s not Klingon, Romun, Cardassian, or Federation.”

  Philip felt a chill. “No. It’s something else.”

  ? Camelot — Main Bridge

  OPS’ console chirped violently.

  “Captain — long range sensors just picked up a faint contact. Same signature as the unknown vessel. It’s… moving fast.”

  K’sigh straightened. “Heading?”

  “Deep Space Fourteen.”

  Before he could respond, the lights on the bridge flickered.

  Then:

  “Captain — Deep Space Fourteen just went dark.”

  K’sigh’s voice dropped to a growl. “Define dark.”

  “No power readings. No life signs. No communications. The station… just vanished from sensors.”

  The bridge fell silent.

  ? Camelot — Science Station

  Kita’s voice came through the comm from the Tomed.

  “Captain — we found something else. A Romun escape pod unched moments before the battle. Its trajectory leads toward a nearby asteroid cluster.”

  K’sigh turned sharply. “A survivor?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Helm — set course. Maximum impulse.”

  ? Asteroid Cluster — Escape Pod

  The Camelot dropped out of warp near a jagged field of tumbling rock.

  “Pod located,” OPS said. “Minimal power. One lifesign — faint.”

  “Transporter Room One,” K’sigh ordered. “Lock on and beam them directly to Sickbay.”

  A moment ter:

  “Medical to bridge — we have the survivor.”

  ? Sickbay

  Philip arrived just as Dr. Sarir stepped back from the biobed.

  The survivor was Romun — young, terrified, barely conscious. His uniform was torn, his skin pale.

  Philip leaned in. “What happened to your ship?”

  The Romun’s eyes fluttered open.

  “They came out of nowhere… no warning… no hail…”

  “Who?” Philip asked.

  The Romun trembled. “Not… not ships. Not like yours. They… they took the commanders. All of them. They didn’t kill them. They took them.”

  Philip felt his stomach tighten. “How?”

  The Romun’s voice cracked. “Light. A beam of light. They were… pulled apart. Not transported. Pulled.”

  He grabbed Philip’s arm with surprising strength.

  “They’re coming. They’re coming back.”

  ? Camelot — Main Bridge

  The ship shuddered.

  “Captain!” OPS shouted. “Unknown vessel just dropped out of warp — directly ahead!”

  The viewer snapped to life.

  There it was.

  The same impossible shape from the Romun recording — now rger, clearer, and moving with predatory grace.

  No windows.

  No markings.

  No visible weapons.

  Just that pulsing glow along its spine.

  K’sigh stood slowly. “Red alert.”

  The kxons bred.

  “Tactical teams Echo, Foxtrot, Golf, Hotel — report to transporter rooms and cargo bays. Prepare for boarding or counter boarding.”

  Philip stepped onto the bridge just as the unknown vessel turned toward them.

  “Captain,” he said quietly, “I think the first attack is coming.”

  The lights dimmed.

  The unknown ship’s glow intensified.

  And then—

  The Camelot was hit.

  Author’s Note:Thank you for reading. Chapter Three will continue the fallout — and introduce more of this world. I’m grateful for every quiet reader walking this path with me.