=/\= Chapter One =/\=
Stardate 58239.94 (March 29, 2381 13:57 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Interstellar Space, Sector 04340
The hum of the USS Mjolnir was as familiar to Captain Callum MacLeod as the tartan of his ancestral clan. Callum wore the weight of his duty like a well-tailored uniform, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the main viewscreen.
“Anything interesting, Lieutenant Vhela?” MacLeod asked, his brogue thickening slightly as he leaned over the science station.
Lieutenant Vhela, her Barzan face etched with concentration, shook her head. “Negative, Captain. Anomalous readings have stabilized. Seems to be a naturally occurring magnetic field, nothing to be concerned about.”
“Good,” MacLeod said, straightening up. He glanced at the main viewscreen, where a swirling nebula painted the void with vibrant hues. “Let’s keep a close watch, though. This far oot, ye never ken what ye might stumble upon.”
“Captain, we’ve received a distress signal from the Federation colony on planet Xarion,” Lieutenant Malcolm Washbourne, the ship’s intelligence officer, reported. “It’s coming from the colony’s emergency beacon. They’re under attack by an unknown force.”
MacLeod’s brow furrowed. “Lieutenant Nerah, lay in a course an’ engage at maximum warp.”
The Mjolnir accelerated to warp speed, her engines humming with power as she closed the distance to Xarion.
“Captain, we’re picking up multiple unidentified ships in orbit around Xarion,” Lieutenant Gratakka, the Nausicaan chief tactical and security officer, reported. “They’re heavily armed and appear to be of unknown origin.
“What’s our ETA, Lieutenant?” Callum asked.
“Twenty-five hours, fourteen minutes, sir,” Nerah responded, his fingers dancing over the flight control console.
Callum nodded gravely. “We’ll need tae be ready for anything when we drop oot o’ warp. Lieutenant Gratakka, coordinate with Lieutenant Washbourne. Let’s have a full threat assessment an’ combat strategy ready by the time we arrive.”
The bridge crew sprang into action, their movements sharp and precise. The air was charged with tension as the ship streaked through the stars, each minute feeling like an eternity. Captain MacLeod’s hand tightened on the armrest of his chair, his eyes never leaving the viewscreen.
“Commander Tymoshenko, ensure all transporters are online and ready for emergency use. We may need tae beam up survivors or deploy away teams once we arrive,” he said, his voice steady and commanding.
“Aye, Captain,” Navesh responded, her Orion grace matching the efficiency of her human upbringing. She tapped a few controls before confirming, “Transporters are operational and standing by. I’ve taken the liberty of expanding the transporter buffer capacity.”
Callum nodded his approval. The Mjolnir was smaller than a typical starship but packed a bigger punch than most ships twice its size. They had to be ready for a swift response to any situation they might face. The bridge remained tense as the crew worked tirelessly, each officer focused on their station, preparing for the unknown.
