Captain's Log

We have secured and aided the research platforms, which weathered the storm with courage and resilience admirable in any situation. I commend their staff, and have passed such along in my report. The Anaheim's scans have shown the aperture appears to be stabilizing, while there is evidence of damage to the planet from the initial bombardment of radiation and energy from the phenomenon. However the scientists feel confident in their ability to access the damage, and with reports from around the fleet pointing to an undetermined reason for the expansion of Underspace; I have determined this is too vital a resource to not attempt aiding in it's mapping.

For that reason, the Anaheim is preparing to enter the aperture, with the intent of trying to map the junctions, even possibly to determine another nearby terminus. 

Callum finished the log, and left his ready room to find the bridge staff waiting and prepared. He had explained his reasoning to all of them, noted the concerns raised and the ship was as prepared as he felt it could be. Taking the command chair, he took a moment then gave the command to pull ahead.

The Anaheim smoothly moved into impulse speed, and the display showed the swirling colors of the aperture loom closer and closer. “We are reading the expected surge of gravitons sir. The opening should transit us to the tunnels, now,” Fylar explained calmly, monitoring the readings from her console. 

“Acknowledge, keep it steady helm,” Callum said as the ship seemed to stretch for a moment then was thrust into Underspace.

Fylar watched her console eagerly. She could well imagine the graphic the others were seeing displayed on the visual screen; but for her the results streaming into her console painted a far more vivid picture. Serving on a utility cruiser such as the Anaheim was a standard stepping stone for many officers; it still only afforded more routine science opportunities.

Underspace was new, while there were log entries from Voyager there were still a lot of unknowns which made it exciting. Her fingers danced on the console as she watched the cascading readings, the beauty of chaos becoming order as the instruments fed data from a myriad of sources. The readings were showing elevating levels, and the edges of the tunnel pushed against the vessel. She was growing concerned about some of the readings, when the helmsman moved them more into the center and the vessel picked up speed. 

They passed a junction, the fork in the tunnel coming too fast for anything more than a cursory glance. The sensors were becoming harder to sort through, the chaos seeming to build the more she tried to define it. With so many things to look at, Fylar missed the warning signs until the very last moment. “Brace for impact!” she cried out, then felt her stomach lurch. 

Callum had been watching the helmsman maneuver, the speed they were traversing the tunnel constantly expanding against itself. The tunnel seemed to twist and curl in an unusual manner, and Callum could feel shudders in the hull as the dampeners tried to compensate. “The edges are scraping against us Captain, it is like riding a river and scraping against the shoreline,” Moira said as she moved up to the console, giving corrections to the helmsman and the Anaheim moved into the center. Callum could see the power warnings alert flare, the excess speed causing abnormal drain while the helm tried to keep a reasonable pace. The fork in the tunnel passed too quickly to take advantage of the slower current, and Callum turned to see what Fylar was picking up when he heard her warning. 

The bottom dropped out from under them. That was the only way he could think to describe the feeling of the graviton wave that struck the ship. Standing, Callum felt his knees buckle under the sudden increase of weight and he braced himself against the chair as the Anaheim lurched. Moira was tossed against the console, crying out as her abdomen struck hard, while the helmsmen alerted them all that the impulse engines had gone unresponsive. On the display, it was a swirl of color as the Anaheim suddenly rose, and then plummeted hard against the tunnel wall. 

With a surge of energy that sent several of the screens on the bridge to spray sparks, the ship lurched to a stop that had the terrified crew screaming. Callum was able to duck and grab his chair, missing the loose stool that flew past before the gravity generator could compensate. The hull shook and he felt intense shuddering as they seemed to be plowing there way back to normal space, like a boat kicked onto shore by a sudden rapid. 

Uncaring, the graviton wave continued past them, and the rip in space seemed to seal behind them, while the Anaheim spun and spun, tumbling as the crew held on. The comms lit up with reports from deck after deck, but all was lost as the bridge went dark.