Stunning blue hues converged into one pattern from the transporter buffer, forming a petite humanoid on the platform at the back of Ops. As the figure emerged from the swirling particles, Giarvar’s heart leapt and he gave the broadest smile possible.

“Damn glad to see you,” he offered his hand to the newcomer, shaking vigorously until they moved in for a warm embrace. It felt like an age since they had seen one another, and if it had been anyone coming through that aperture, it would have been her for sure.

Watching in amusement, the Admiral’s expression softened as the embrace lingered on for a little too long. A stifled cough, raised antennae and a warm smile from the Andorian caused the two to part somewhat sheepishly.

“Where are my manners?” Kauhn was almost giddy as he stepped to the side and gestured to the blue-skinned flag officer. “Admiral Kelsa Theron, I’d like you to meet my good friend Noli Auru. Noli, this is Admiral Kelsa Theron, sector commander,” he introduced the two women.

“A pleasure, Commander,” the Andorian shook hands briefly with the Bajoran, then stepped aside and held out a hand in the direction of her office. “The three of us should talk…”

“Whatever the phenomenon is, it’s completely isolated us. Nothing can travel out of the system, and until you, we thought nothing could travel into the system either,” Giarvar pointed to a schematic of the Andor system on the main display. Instead of the usual star positions one would associate with such a map, everything beyond their location was simply black, as if there was nothing beyond Andor itself. “Anything beyond our sector is being called the Dark Zone. We can’t see out, and we’re assuming no one can see in,” he concluded, arms folded across his chest, waiting for a reaction that would never come, his friend stoic whilst regarding the board closely.

“We’ve got some communications and sensors within the wider sector itself, but no warp drive,” Theron elaborated further, drawing Kauhn back to the desk where Noli was sat, taking it all in. She didn’t know the Bajoran, but she’d come to know Captain Kauhn in recent months. He’d become all excited upon realising that it was Columbia that had appeared from the underspace entrance, and just from watching him gaze at the blonde sat opposite, she could see why.

Noli, oblivious to any of that, had listened intently, nodding in all of the right places until she felt it was time to chip in with a question. “Do we have any idea what’s causing it?” She asked, staring at the darkness her own ship had been claimed by until fate, or the Prophets, perhaps, had intervened.

“No one knows,” with a shake of her head, Theron pursed her lips. “We’ve even set up Project Silent Star, our own equivalent of the Pathfinder project, to try and get some answers. So far, everything coming back has been negative,” the Andorian looked more than a little frustrated as she rose to her feet and looked out of the window, wistfully. “It’s like everything we’ve ever known, everyone we’ve ever loved, has vanished. Now, there’s nothing out there but this great abyss…”

“Columbia is the first arrival in the sector since the Nova almost two weeks ago,” the spotted man took his cue from the Admiral and continued their tactical update for his friend. He knew she’d appreciate it, given her background in tactical before Nazir had shifted her over to command to replace him upon his departure for the Arimathea and, if truth be told, he valued her opinion more than most. Maybe even more than that of Theron herself. “The Imperial Guard have been caught with a massive chunk of their force on manoeuvres near Weytahn. The rest are in the home system,” he continued the brief, referring to the native populace’s very capable defence forces.

“What about our assets?” the Bajoran continued her quizzing of the two in an effort to get a deeper understanding of the situation. If it wasn’t for the nature of their meeting, she’d be in her element.

“We’ve got six starships docked or on patrol currently. Melbourne and Nova among them,” Kauhn told the Bajoran, continuing his status update for her.

“Make that seven,” Theron smiled, turning from the window and giving the newcomer a single nod in recognition of her ship’s rather timely presence.

“Seven,” Giarvar gladly corrected himself. Now it was time for the tables to be turned and the Bajoran to become the focus of the questioning. “Have you heard anything while out there?” he asked her, watching her every move and prepared to hang on her every word.

Taking a deep breath, the Blonde Bombshell sat forward. “From what we could tell, it happened elsewhere. We were near Mizar when it struck us. It was like we hit an invisible brick wall… warp, sensors, communications, all just… stopped,” she reported to them, recalling the moment the blackout hit. “I’ll have the team send over all of our sensor data,” she continued, inching forward in her seat and placing one hand on the desktop, drumming her fingers as she recounted events. “We were lucky that the effect was sporadic where we were. We could plot a series of course corrections and warp jumps to reach Starbase Sixty-two. Once we were there, we tried to find a way around the phenomenon, a more permanent solution, but  we had no joy.” In a peculiar shift, her expression changed to a far more smiley one.

“What is it?” Giarvar smirked, confused by the change in her demeanour, glancing briefly at the equally confused Andorian opposite them.

“We did hear some rumours,” the Bajoran looked down at the floor, taking a second to decide if it made sense to share. But in the current climate, what did she have to lose? “Rumours about the Admiralty,” she told them.

“Oh?” Theron’s antennae drooped, a sign of her curiosity.

“Some plausible, some far less so. Things like Admiral Duncan being caught with his pants down, lightyears from home playing golf on Risa and no way back to DS19. A Neidlinger experiment gone wrong, maybe. He’s fried all of subspace and left us all stranded. And, well, Aaslin Braim is supposedly on DS9 for the annual Dabo tournament and losing his weight in latinum,” the Bajoran smiled, knowing they were less than likely possibilities, but that was the hazard of listening to the rumour mill at work.

“That’s not a lot then,” Giarvar smirked, “the guy’s a weed…”

“But then there’s the more likely stuff. Like Varro, he’s lost half the fleet and can’t find them anywhere. The point is, no one knows where anyone in power is. If any of these are remotely true, it seems like wherever they are, it’s not where they are supposed to be in a time of crisis.”

“Wish I could be on Risa…” Theron huffed, relaxing in her chair again until the room became bathed in a warm, crimson glow. Red alert klaxons pierced the laughter of the three officers, drawing them to their feet. Kelsa rounded the desk and led the trio out to the Ops Centre.

“Report!” she barked as the triumvirate approached the pool table.

“We’re detecting activity near the aperture,” the tactical chief reported from his station.

“Another starship?” Kauhn suggested, leaning on the table with both hands, hopeful of yet more reinforcements, no matter how unlikely it might have seemed.

“I don’t think so,” the chief retorted with a shake of his head. “We’re reading almost four dozen signatures,” he added, looking up from his display, eyes narrowed and concerned.

“Did you detect anything in the tunnel with you? Any other signatures, friend or foe?” Theron looked across at Noli, almost accusatorially. Had the Commander failed to report everything her ship had encountered?

Noli stepped forward to the table, hands clasped behind her back. “Absolutely not,” the Bajoran clarified sternly, looking to Kauhn for support. “If there was anyone else in there, anyone at all, we never saw them…”

“Well, we don’t have long to find out,” the tactical commander turned back to his station. “They’re coming through…”