text: #“Contact!” The cry rang out, cutting through the low murmur of normal operations on the bridge. “Bearing three-two-four, at zero-five-two by zero-one-five.” “What’s the word, Lieutenant?” the captain answered as he settled into his chair. “Not sure yet, sir,” the Lieutenant answered, studying the screen in front of him intently. “I’ll know more in a moment.” “Keep me posted, Pan,” the captain ordered, before addressing the bridge. “Engines ahead one-third. Make our heading three-four-zero level.” “All ahead one-third, aye,” came the response, followed shortly by “New heading three-four-zero level, aye.” A tense hush had fallen over the bridge. The captain counted twelve heartbeats before the comms officer spoke up again. “Sir, contact matches the profile of a Council frigate. Engines are cold and it looks like it’s putting out minimal power. Transponder is active, though...” The lieutenant checked his screens again. “IFF signal identifies it as the *Polo*, sir.” The captain’s brow furrowed. “The *Polo*? That can’t be, this isn’t their sector. The hell would they be doing out here?” He contemplated for a second, then keyed his earpiece. “Talk to me, Shack. What exactly are we looking at?” “Lieutenant Panzavechia is correct, Commander,” confirmed the voice in his ear. “The ship is broadcasting the proper Council identification codes. As far as we can tell, this is in fact F-324, SCV *Marco Polo*.” “Shit,” grumbled the captain. “Something’s not right here... Alright Pan, let’s say hello.” He tapped a button on his screen. “*Polo*, *Polo*, we have you on sensors with dangerously low power outputs. Confirm identity, and advise if you need assistance.” He tapped his screen again to end the recording. “Message away, sir,” reported Panzavechia. Twenty-eight heartbeats passed, when suddenly the captain’s earpiece chimed. “What is it, Shack?” he answered. “Commander, I wanted to let you know that Lieutenant Commander Luca has been notified of this development,” declared the voice in his ear. “She is arriving on the bridge imminently.” “*Shit*. I don’t need this right now,” the captain mumbled. “Noted, Commander.” The connection ended just as the bridge doors slid open. “What’s the situation, Commander?” Luca asked, almost out of courtesy as she strode onto the bridge. “Nothing that requires your attention just yet, Inquisitor,” the captain sighed. “Your ship’s computer tells me otherwise, Commander,” Luca argued, halting next to the captain’s chair. Her grey-and-white uniform was in stark contrast to the midnight blue of the bridge crew. “Yes, he does love to stab me in the back,” the captain countered dryly, making it a point to avoid looking at her. “As of yet, no Council protocol has been broken. This situation falls entirely within the jurisdiction of the Ranger fleet.” “Fine,” Luca spat, not looking entirely convinced. “I agree with your computer's analysis that something-" “Incoming message, Commander!” Panzavechia interrupted them. “Play it, Lieutenant,” the captain ordered, almost relieved to be able to shut Luca up. “Aye, sir.” The comms officer tapped his screen, and a voice came over the speakers. “Council frigate, this is the ship’s computer for SCV *Marco Polo*. We have suffered a major failure across multiple systems. We have no engines and limited power. Life support is failing. Requesting assistance and evacuation.” The captain and the Inquisitor glanced at each other for the first time since she had entered the bridge. Both wordlessly reached the same conclusion. “Lieutenant Patterson, bring shields to full,” the captain instructed. “Shields to full, aye, sir,” acknowledged the operations officer. The bridge was dead silent as the captain’s earpiece chimed again. “Commander, I should remind you that ship’s computers are not authorized to record or transmit messages. For this ship to do so would be a severe breach of Council regulations.” “I am aware, Shack, and I think the Inquisitor is perfectly aware as well,” the captain muttered. “One other thing, Commander,” the voice in his ear continued. “The voice in that message carried distinctly non-synthesized inflections, and did not match the profile of any computers that I am aware of. It is likely that the message was sent not by a ship’s computer, but by a person claiming to be one.” Eight heartbeats passed in the silence, then Luca spoke up again. “Definitely a trap, then. Pirates?” she suggested, a wry smile on her face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” the captain snorted. “Novak, engines ahead one-half. Okeda, make our heading three-five-zero by zero-one-five.” The responses came in rapid succession from the engineering and navigation officers. “All ahead one-half, aye.” “New heading, three-five-zero by zero-one-five, aye.” “Pan, keep an eye on that ship. Let me know if they-” “Contact!” cried the comms officer before the captain could finish his instructions. “Bearing zero-five-four at zero-two-seven by zero-one-three and closing.” “What is it, and where did it come from?” barked the captain. “Not sure, sir.” responded Panzavechia. “Size and energy signature are about what you’d expect for a cruiser. No blue-shift, it just popped up on sensors out of nowhere. Engines look like they just fired up, and their weapons are heating up as well.” “A cruiser? How the *fuck* do you hide a cruiser out here?” the captain exclaimed. “Commander, we-” Luca started to interject, but the captain cut her off. “Lieutenant Son, I want full power to all batteries as soon as possible. Open the point-defence lasers while you’re at it.” “Aye, sir,” the gunnery officer replied. “Novak, I want all ahead full. Pan, prepare to get a message away,” continued the captain, his heart pounding as he keyed the button on his screen again. “*Paradigm*, *Paradigm*, this is Commander Koenig of the SCV *Shackleton*.