Chief Tactical Officer Neritalor Zantett stifled a yawn and squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment longer than he had meant to. The day on the bridge had been uneventful and long and silent and filled with a lingering tension that curled in the corners like smoke.

By now, he knew more about Risa’s weather control system than he had ever wanted to. The failure of the control grids – inconvenient as it was for the civilians down on the planet – was an almost welcome distraction from waiting for their scientists and engineers to figure out a way to escape the sector.

Zantett looked up from his console and glanced around the bridge. First Officer Kamau was engrossed in a quiet discussion with Captain Valdes, while Kavvis at the helm tried her best to not fall asleep. Only Chief Security Officer K’Shara, who seemed to have infinite energy, caught his gaze.

For a moment, they locked eyes.

“Tired?”, she asked quietly, and with a smile that was more of a snarl. She couldn’t stand Zantett, and he could barely tolerate her presence.

“Not at all.”, he said back and straightened.

Their animosities had started when Captain Valdes had cut their competition for the assignment of Chief of Tactical and Security short, and split the position into two distinct roles, leaving their rivalry unresolved.

A beep of his console pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the readout, casually at first, then turned. This didn’t look right.

“Sir.”, he said, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “There’s an energy signature just off the Celeste’s port side. No warp signature, no approach vector. It’s like it just appeared.”

The Celeste. A luxury passenger liner with a Captain who had been kind enough to invite the Sirona’s crew over to alleviate boredom and anxiety. The temporary home to several families, and countless tourists

Valdes and Kamau halted their conversation and turned to him, as did the rest of the crew, but K’Shara was the first to speak up.  “Or you weren’t looking hard enough.” she stated, and Zantett felt his jaw clench.

“Enough.” Kamau warned, and she fell silent.

“How did we not pick this up before?” came Captain Valdes question, equal parts surprise, accusation, and annoyance.

Zantett shook his head, eyes locked on the console. “I don’t know, Captain. It’s almost like it appeared out of nowhere.”

“Small vessel, it looks like a patrol ship, but I don’t recognize it.”, K’Shara added.

“On screen.”

The viewscreen came to life, almost entirely filled by the gleaming hull of the Celeste – A luxury passenger liner with a Captain who had been kind enough to invite the Sirona’s crew over to alleviate boredom and anxiety. The temporary home to several families, and countless tourists.

And next to it, a small shadow, insignificant yet persistent. Barely a hundred metres in length, more like a shuttle than a ship. Deceptively harmless.

“The computer can’t identify the ship.”, Zantett noted, furrowing his brows in concentration.

“Hail them.” Valdes demanded.

Kavvis gave a nod, but after a moment of silence shook her head.  “They are not responding.”

Valdes rose from her chair. “Then hail the Celeste.”

Kavvis’ fingers flew over the console in practised movements, but nothing happened.

“I don’t like the looks of this. Is the Blackout expanding?” Valdes barely glanced at Nakamura, who was manning the science station.

“It doesn’t look like it. Our probes-…” He started, but never got to finish his sentence.

“Captain. There’s something else.”, Zantett interrupted urgently. “I just caught faint residual transporter activity. Not ours. Originating from the smaller ship. Directed toward the Celeste.”

“Tourists?”  K’Shara asked.

Zantett shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t like the look of it.”

“I don’t think these are tourists.” Kamau stated darkly.

“You think that they’ve been… boarded?” Valdes asked incredulously, her mind already recalling any reports on suspicious activity in the sector, but coming up with nothing.

“Possibly. Without a response, it’s hard to tell.” Zantett scanned the readings, jaw clenched, posture stiff. No one dared to say a word unless it was absolutely necessary.

But they could feel that something was off. A chill creeping down the spine – that sixth sense no one could scientifically explain, or wanted to acknowledge.

“Course change detected.”, Kavvis at the helm announced. “The Celeste just altered its trajectory. Full impulse. So did the smaller vessel.”

Zantett’s eyes widened a fraction. “They’re headed straight for Risa.”

It wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary if Risan orbital control hadn’t issued a warning that an approach during the weather system failure was risky, and to be avoided.

“Red alert. Raise shields.” Valdes ordered and returned to the centre chair.

“Can we catch up to them?” Kamau pressed, taking his seat next to the Captain.

“Unlikely.”, Kavvis shook her head. “Not unless we can go to warp.”

“We will try anyway.” Valdes ordered. Any hint of doubt or hesitancy had left her voice.

“Alert Risa orbital security. Send everything we’ve got – sensor logs, flight paths, unknown ship profile.”

A groan ripped through the ship as the impulse engines were woken from their slumber, then screamed as Kavvis pushed them past what they were built to endure. They were moving, but so was the Celeste.

“They’ve increased their descent vector,” Kavvis announced. “And they’re not decreasing their speed.”

“Distance to Risa?” Valdes demanded, her voice like cut steel through the hum of emergency protocols.

“Thirty-six thousand kilometres. Dropping fast. We won’t reach them in time. If they don’t slow down now, they won’t be able to.”

They all knew what that meant. The Celeste would crash. An unimaginable disaster.

“Impact location?” Kamau asked, his voice wavering as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Atheta.”

Valdes inhaled sharply, and for a split second, everything seemed to slow down to a crawl.

“Zantett, what’s Atheta’s current population?”

Twe..” he caught his breath for a second

“Out with it”, Valdes warned.

“S-sorry, sir. Atheta currently has 21.869 residents, 5372 registered tourists and a few Dozen officers from the USS Io – and our own away team.”

Valdes’ breath hitched when a sudden realization dawned on her “And Linna… Linna is there too.”

Without wasting another second she called out “How many people aboard the Celeste?”

“They mentioned they had three hundred civilians left – in addition to the crew.”, Kamau replied, then fell silent. “Why are you asking?”

“Charge weapons.”

“Captain, we can’t-…” Kamau started, only to be interrupted by Valdes. “We will attempt to disable them.”

“Thirty seconds before they enter Risa’s stratosphere.” Kavvis warned. Her voice had risen to a high pitch.

“Weapons?” Valdes glanced at Zantett

“Phasers armed, torpedoes on standby.” Zantett confirmed.

“Aim for the Celeste’s engines.” A brief pause. “Fire.”

Zantett, who knew very well that the order was directed at him, froze. He looked at the Captain, and then, very slowly, took a step away from the console.

“That’s an order, Commander.”, Valdes hissed.

Zantett squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, taking a staggering step backwards. “I won’t-… I won’t do it.”

“K’Shara.”, Valdes ordered. “Take over.”

K’Shara looked at Zantett, and for a moment, she was sure to see tears gleaming in his eyes. Then she turned to the console and fired.

“Direct hit – aft shields are down to twenty percent.”, K’Shara called out over the blaring of the red alert klaxon. She looked up from her console, her voice trembling as she added “Their structural integrity is failing. They won’t survive another hit.”

“They’re entering Risa’s stratosphere. We have to act now.” Kavvis said hoarsely as she gripped the console to steady herself.

Linna.

Ewardson, River and Renn.

The thousands that had travelled to Atheta to celebrate.

“We can’t let them reach the surface… “, Valdes whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “Three hundred on the ship. Twenty thousand in Atheta…”

Kamau, eyes wide in disbelief of what was happening, tried one last time. “Captain.. “

The grip around her chest tightened as Valdes turned to face him. “We don’t have a choice.” A pause. “Fire.”

A low rumble vibrated through the bulkheads, as the torpedoes flared to life with a sickly blue glow cutting through the void, turning them into executioners.