Captain’s Log, Stardate 240105.2. This is my first log entry as Captain of the U.S.S. Alhambra marking its official reentry into service. I’m honored and beyond excited to be given my first command.

After her shakedown cruise from Starbase Bravo to Farpoint Station, I’ve gotten to know the Alhambra and her crew not half as well as I would like, eventually, but twice as much as I expected in such a short time. This is a… mature ship, and one that had been in drydock for a while, so there was quite a bit of dust to shake off of these old nacelles.

My crew, on the other hand, is nearly as green as they come. That’s not to say they aren’t capable officers, but more than half of them are recently, if not completely fresh, out of the Academy, and the rest are brand new to our particular positions. We certainly have our work cut out for us.

We have just departed Farpoint station for our first mission. As part of a fleet-wide action to rebuild the Deneb sector after the Dominion invasion, we have been tasked with repairing various relay stations; an extremely important task, as robust communications enable Starfleet to respond quickly and effectively to any situation that may arise out here on the frontier. 

All relay station crews in the sector were ordered evacuate once it became clear the sector would be lost. Unfortunately for the crew of Station 749, a battle broke out nearby. The station was hit hard by an errant torpedo and experienced complete decompression. All hands were lost. Our mission is to repair Station 749 and ensure it is operational and ready for crew once more. My hope is that I and my crew’s work does justice to the lives that were lost in defense of the Federation that day.

End Log.

“Mellearch to Captain,” came the tenor voice of Helm Officer Pell Mellearch over the comm. 

“Go ahead, Ensign,” Risian Captain Noor Anjarin, replied.

“We’re nearing Relay Station 749, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mellearch. I’ll be right out.” Anjarin stood, straightened his uniform, and stepped out of his ready room.

“Captain on the bridge!” Catian First Officer Commander K’Graia’s voice boomed the moment the Captain crossed the threshold. The XO stood at attention in front of her chair, and the rest of the bridge crew snapped-to in near unison. Her blue-grey fur shined almost as brightly as the Alhambra’s newly refurbished hull.

“As you were, all,” Anjarin said with a slight wave of his hand downward. He sat in the center chair and K’Graia took her place next to him. The rest of the crew relaxed and went back to their duties. Anjarin leaned towards the commander and spoke in a low volume. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Number One, but I just let the ensign know I’d be right out. Surely the rest of the bridge heard. It’s not a large space.”

“I was simply following protocol, sir.”

“I prefer to be a little less formal with the crew unless the situation calls for it. I find tightening the reins has much more impact when it is only done with necessity. Helps the crew know just when you mean business.”

“Understood, sir.” K’Graia shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and her fur bristled slightly, but she said nothing more.

Orion Operations Chief Lieutenant Dazzrek Dakkal tapped at his station. “Captain, I’m picking up an unusual amount of interference across all sensor and communication bands.”

“What kind of interference?”

Dakkal tapped a few more times. “Unclear. It’s like someone turned up the volume on all naturally occurring background radiation.”

“Confirmed, sir,” Bajoran Science Chief Lt. Commander Pru Meshea said from her station. “We can’t get any clear readings on anything in this immediate region, like trying to pick out a single voice across a loud, crowded room.

“Is there any immediate danger?”

“Not that I can see,” responded Betazoid Security Chief Lt. Commander Leada Tane. “Despite its unusual intensity, it is just background noise. Perhaps if we move closer to the station things will become clearer.”

“Alright, but let’s be cautious. Yellow Alert,” the captain said. At his words, flashing yellow warning lights lit the bridge. “Continue our current approach vector, but slow to half impulse, Mr. Mellearch.”

“Um… aye, sir.” Mellearch ran the fingers of one hand through their pale hair, and rubbed their neck. 

It looked to Anjarin like some sort of self-soothing tick. “Is there a problem, Ensign?”

“No problem, sir.” Mellearch straightened up and throttled the ship back to half impulse.

Anjarin didn’t press the issue, but it made him uneasy. Officers who were too tight lipped often let problems fester, and that wasn’t good for anyone, especially those who work closely together. “Are we within visual range yet, Ensign?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On screen, please.”

The main viewer blinked on to show an utterly destroyed relay station. Its overall frame was mostly intact, but both the inner and outer hulls looked to be at least 75% gone, and that was just from quick visual inspection. What hull still remained was pocked with impacts and scorches. Debris fluttered around the station like silvery flies around a carcass.

“It’s a wonder they didn’t just have us replace the whole thing,” Dakkal said.

“Materials are at a premium out here, and there’s so much repair work to be done, I’m not sure Starfleet has the resources at the moment to be building relay stations from scratch,” the Captain said.

“I’m increasing the gain on the forward sensor arrays and inputting a filtering algorithm in an attempt to get us a clearer picture,” Commander Pru said.

“Good idea, Commander. Any luck?”

“Only mildly, sir. One waveform is starting to look familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”

“It’s from a forcefield generator,” Tane said confidently.

“How can you be so sure?” Anjarin asked.

“I did my Academy thesis on force field and shield dynamics,” she said. “That waveform is burned into my retinas.”

“Confirmed,” responded Pru. “It does match with Federation field generators used on this model of relay.”

“This station was supposed to be completely inoperable. Yet, they still have power?” the Captain asked.

“It likely is inoperable, sir,” Tane said. “Emergency force fields can be triggered by sudden decompression. It looked like one of them managed to stay on.”

“Could there be any survivors in there? Any life signs?”

“I’m not reading any life signs through this interference,” Dakkal said.

“Even if someone did manage to survive, and assuming they had enough air, they’d have been without food or water for weeks,” Pru said. “We’re not likely to find anyone alive.”

The Captain nodded. There’s been so much work to do since defeating the Lost Fleet, there had been no rush to fix one relay station, he thought. “Well, we still have a job to do. Looks like we’ll have to assess the damage the old fashioned way. Number One, please assemble an away team for an initial EV assessment of the station. Beam over to the station’s central Ops as soon as you are ready.”

“Sir, I would recommend against beaming,” Tane said. “The interference is preventing us from getting a solid lock on any particular location. There’s no guarantee they’d arrive where we sent them, and even less of a guarantee we’d be able to get them back, even if they did.”

“I guess it’s old school all the way, today,” Anjarin said. “Commander, you’re taking a shuttle.”

“Aye, sir,” K’Graia said. “I’m going to take a small medical team as well. With comms scrambled and transporters inadvisable, if there’s an emergency, it would be preferable to have someone who could give aid quickly.”

“Prudent thinking,” Anjarin said.

Before K’Graia could make it to the turbolift, Tane spoke up again. “Commander, I’d like permission to choose a security team to join the away mission.”

“A security team? I didn’t think there was any reason to believe we’d run into that kind of trouble.”

“There isn’t, sir, but… call it a hunch.”

Anjarin had known enough Betazoids, both growing up on Risa, and throughout his time in Starfleet to not take their hunches lightly. But the commander of an away team had complete control over the mission, including personnel allocation, and Anjarin didn’t want to undercut the commander’s authority unless it was necessary. 

“It’s already getting kind of crowded on this mission,” K’Graia said. “The station isn’t that big.”

“I understand that, sir, but it is my professional opinion that a security presence would be just as prudent in an emergency as a medical team.” 

Something in Tane’s voice must have sounded serious enough because K’Graia said: “Alright, you can assign two security officers, and we’ll all take type one phasers.”

“I’d like to assign myself,” Tane said.

“I don’t relish the idea of leaving the Alhambra without her Security Chief on board,” K’Graia hedged. 

“With comms out, even if my hunch turns out to be nothing, if needed I might be able to get some sort of message to the ship. Telepathically, I mean.”

K’Graia considered this before relenting. “Alright, granted, but just make sure your hunch gives the engineers room to work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The two left the bridge together.