Star Trek: Icarus

This is my attempt to imagine what a new Star Trek miniseries would be like. Enjoy!

Part 1.1

Captain's log, stardate 136294.8. First entry: Captain Zia Rashid, USS Icarus. (… it still seems so strange to say.) I have just completed a full-day briefing with Starfleet Command. Like the Starfleet oath says, Icarus will be boldly going where no one has gone before. It's a specialized science vessel configured for first Federation expedition to the Galactic Center, a region of space which has been largely unexplored because the intense gravimetric pressures make conventional warp travel impossible. Icarus is designed to be operated by a skeleton crew, and we will spend four months exploring the region and collecting data. Although I haven't met most of the crew, I'm very pleased that an old friend will be joining me on the mission.

"You know, I've been saying I'd be your chief medical officer since the Academy."

They are in Captain Rashid's condo, which is tastefully decorated with surrealist art painted by her husband. Dr. Alomar sips his wine and gazes out the window at the sea of lights that is Damascus at night. He is clean-shaven, with a streak of silver in his hair and a rich voice. "But I have to say, I didn't expect us to go to the center of the galaxy!"

Captain Rashid reclines in her chair and puts her hands together. She is wearing a comfortable smock. She has shoulder-length hair, and her dark eyes have a piercing quality. "Exciting, though, isn't it? The Core is one of the few parts of the galaxy that's still largely unexplored." She reaches into the coffee table and pulls out a vaporizer. "Unless, of course, you believe Captain Kirk's account."

"Yes, well, it's well-known that Kirk's behaviour became somewhat more… erratic late in his life. Their shield technology was two centuries less advanced than ours, and given the sheer range of phenomena that crew was exposed to, I think we can safely take that particular story with a grain of salt," Alomar chuckles. "By the way, I have something for you."

He reaches into his dinner jacket and pulls out a paper bag. "I stopped at the market in Kabul on the way here. Organic purple kush, very rare strain." He grins. "A good way to spend your last evening at home for a while."

"You know me too well, Tomas," Rashid smiles. As she loads the vaporizer, there is cheering from the other room, followed by mockery. Alomar says, "That was Carlos. Cuba must have scored. I'm a bit concerned that this game is going to cause a rift between our husbands."

"I think their friendship can take it." Rashid draws from the vaporizer.

"So, was it hard to say goodbye to the Enterprise?" Alomar asks her as she passes it to him.

"Yeah. I mean, it's been my home for the last six years. I even doubted myself a bit – is it better to be chief science officer on the Enterprise or captain of your own ship? If it wasn't the Enterprise, it'd be an easy decision. But this mission… this is really something." She pauses. "I'm glad you're coming, Tomas."

"Me too."

The comm system chirps. "Starfleet Command to Captain Rashid."

She turns off the vaporizer and glances at Alomar, smirking, her eyes wide. "Rashid here."

"Sorry to bother you, Captain, but Commander Pon says her schedule changed, and she has to meet with you tonight."

To Alomar, Rashid mouths "Oh shit." "Uh, can you tell her now's not a good time, but I am free tomorrow at her convenience?"

"I tried, Captain, but there's no changing her mind. The best I can do is give you this advance warning. She's beaming over there now."

"Well, alright, thanks for the warning. Rashid out." To Alomar: "Well, I guess you're going to meet our chief engineer a little sooner than I expected. Do you know anything about Pon?"

"Only what I've heard. I read her file when I got this assignment. And, you know… her reputation precedes her." He finishes his wine. "I mean, I've served with Tellarites before…"

A sudden light falls upon the room, and a short, stocky, porcine figure with a wild mane of hair materializes in front of them. Her inset eyes looks around. "Hello Captain, Doctor. Sir, with all due respect, I have to disagree with your decision not to install my transpectral imaging array on Icarus. As I've said repeatedly in my messages, the Icarus mission offers the perfect opportunity to test the array. Have you read my paper on transpectral analysis of gravimetric inversions in regions of high stellar density? I have it right here. I'm sure if you'll read it right now, you'll agree with my position. I can wait."

Pon stares intently at Rashid, who replies, "Good evening to you too, Commander. Yes, I've read your messages and your paper, and my order stands. The array-"

"Captain, with all due respect-"

Rashid continues, "Commander, the array is an untested piece of technology-"

"Not untested! I've run countless simulations-"

"…an untested piece of technology which, as much potential as it may have, will take up almost half the space that's currently allotted for the sickbay."

Pon retorts, "Captain, when I designed Icarus, I did so with the health of the crew at the forefront of my priorities. But, as I've told you, the health risks to humanoids in this region of space are minimal."

Alomar interjects, "Minimal! That's your assessment, not mine, and it's based on a distinct lack of data. We don't know what we're going to encounter in there, and I can tell you right now that if something unexpected comes up, chances are you'll much rather have a couple of extra bio-beds than that damned array. It's my opinion as chief medical officer that the ship is better served by the extra sickbay space."

Pon regards Alomar as if noticing him for the first time. "Your opinion is wrong. And if the captain had picked the doctor I recommended, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Captain, I strongly suggest that you reconsider."

Alomar glares at the Tellarite. Rashid says, "Look, Pon, I'm not sure if you're talking about reconsidering my choice of inventory or CMO, but my decision is final on both. You may have designed and built Icarus, but I'm in command, and I'm going to prioritize the health of my crew on this one. And I'm not sure if you've taken any of those cultural exchange courses which Starfleet recommends for Tellarites, but I won't have constant argument from you over every decision I make. This isn't a Tellarite ship, and I expect you to treat my decisions, and the opinions of my crew, with respect."

Alomar adds, "I think there's a chapter in those courses on not beaming into people's living rooms unannounced."

Pon is silent for a moment, opening her mouth to speak a few times but then deciding against it. "Very well, Captain. My objection will be noted in my log. I will see you on Icarus tomorrow."

"Why did you call her Icarus, anyway?" Alomar asks. "We're heading to a region of space that's super-densely packed with stars. Don't you know that in the myth of Icarus, he builds wings that let him fly, but when he flies too close to the sun, they burn and he plunges to his death?"

Rashid adds, "Yes, I've wondered about that too. It seems like bad luck to me."

"First of all, Captain, there's no such thing as luck. Second, it's a perfect name for the ship! It symbolizes the Federation overcoming its limitations. The Icarus story is so clearly scientifically unsound, and it represents the ignorance of primitive people. Icarus dared to defy the conventions of his time and reach for the sky! Ex astris, scientia. We Tellarites have many similar myths. Of course, we've been atheists since our late stone age. Skepticism is to Tellarites what logic is to Vulcans. We are all like Icarus, boldly venturing into one of the last true frontiers in the galaxy!"

"Yes," says Alomar, "but Icarus still dies in the myth."

"Which, again, is self-evidently wrong. The real takeaway is that we should reach for the stars, and never let anyone tell us otherwise. The analogy is apt. If it makes Terrans uncomfortable, well, that wasn't my intention. I thought you'd like having it named after one of your mythical heroes."

Rashid smiles. "No, no, it's a good name. And I do wish we could bring the array along."

Another burst of cheering and booing erupts from the other room. "Who is that?" Pon asks.

"Our husbands," Rashid replies. "They are watching football."

"Husbands," Pon chortles. "I have four. They are constantly fighting. Fortunately our thirty children keep them busy most of the time. But I must be off. I will accept your decision, Captain Rashid, even if it sets the discipline of transpectral cartography back by half a decade." She taps her comm badge. "Pon here. One to beam up." And she dematerializes.

After a moment of stunned silence, Alomar asks, "Do they argue just for the sake of arguing?"

Rashid replies, "Actually, they do. Argument is central to Tellarite culture. But I've heard from other Tellarites that Pon is considered eccentric even by their standards. But she knows the ship better than anybody."

"Yes, and we're going to be trapped with her on it for four months."

"Having second thoughts, Tomas?"

He smiles. "Never. You will need my help to survive."

First Officer's log, 136302.2. First entry, Commander Isaiah Sparks, USS Icarus. After four years coordinating Starfleet's scientific expedition to the Gamma Quadrant, I have accepted a new assignment as first officer of the USS Icarus. I am excited to be part of this historic mission and to meet my crewmates, with whom I will be spending a great deal of time.

Commander Sparks takes a final look at the rugged beauty of the Martian landscape, then boards the small shuttlepod, duffel bag in hand. He is tall and well-built, in his early forties, with dark skin, close-cropped hair, and a well-kept beard. The shuttle's door closes behind him as he takes a seat in the cramped cabin. Seated next to him is a pale, blonde human woman, probably half a decade younger than him, slender and with grey eyes. She glances briefly at him, then looks away.

"Commander Sparks," says an Andorian woman at the ops station. "Hi. I'm Lieutenant Vanda Avala." She shakes his hand. Her skin is a deep blue, her hair short and white in a pixie cut, with two antennae that point at him. She is fit and strikingly beautiful. Next to her is a young Vulcan ensign with olive-coloured skin and a look of permanent surprise on his face.

Sparks says to Avala, "A pleasure to meet you. I understand you will be our security officer."

"That's right," she says.

"And you spent a year training with the Imperial Guard?"

"Yes, sir. I received advanced training in tactical maneuvers as well as Andorian martial arts."

"Very impressive," says Sparks, nodding at the young woman. Then, addressing the Vulcan: "You must be Ensign Rylek, our pilot."

"Yes, sir. Greetings, sir," says Rylek.

"Greetings," Sparks says, holding his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life, sir."

The blonde woman looks at him again. "And I am Lieutenant Susan Sorensen. The ship's science officer. Ah – as you know, I'm sure."

He shakes her hand. "Isaiah Sparks."

They sit. "If we're all ready," Sparks says, "You can take us out, Mr. Rylek."

"Yes, sir." He taps the conn panel. "Shuttlepod Icarus-1, requesting permission to depart."

"Copy that, Icarus-1. Icarus is waiting for you."

The thrusters hum as the shuttlepod launches towards the Martian sky. Sparks asks, "So, do you all know each other?"

Sorensen shakes her head. Avala says, "Rylek and I were at the academy together. I was a year ahead of him, but we both took specialized training in the Intensive Astrophysical Conditions program. That's how we were chosen for this mission – astrophysical conditions don't get much more intensive than the Galactic Core!"

"They sure don't," Sparks agrees. "Have any of you been on Icarus?" Avala and Rylek answer in the negative.

"I have," Sorensen replies, gazing out the window. "I helped design the labs and sensor relays. It's a remarkable ship."

"She certainly is," Sparks agrees. "Personally, I've never served on a ship with such a small crew complement. Seven people running a starship!"

Avala says, "From what I've read, the ship can essentially run itself if necessary. The computer system is extremely sophisticated."

"You know," says Sparks, "I've heard that the Cardassians are using fully automated ships these days. But I don't see Starfleet ever doing that. Just look at the Voyager Doctor's efforts to design a ship crewed entirely by holograms fifty years ago. It went nowhere. In my opinion, if you remove the personal element from space exploration, you undermine the very purpose of Starfleet."

"Mm, I agree," says Avala. "You can see it in the public excitement for this mission. Sending probes into the Galactic Core is one thing; sending a crew is something else entirely."

"Probes are of limited use in the Core anyway," Sorensen says. "Even when we can maintain contact with them, without warp capability we're just charting the edges."

They break out of Mars's atmostphere and approach a spacedock. Inside it is a small vessel. Its saucer section is the shape of an arrowhead, with a slender midsection connecting to a compact stern. There are two pylons pointing straight out to the port and starboard sides of the stern, with a double nacelle on each. As they draw closer, they read the registration on the hull of the ship: USS Icarus, NCC-102141.

"Beautiful ship," Avala says.

"It possesses a certain aesthetic appeal," Rylek agrees.

Sparks smiles in spite of himself. "That's our ship! Take us in, Mr. Rylek."

Rylek says into the comm, "Shuttlepod 1 to Icarus. We are requesting permission to come aboard."

"Rashid here. Permission granted. Bring her in, Ensign."

They come about at the aft section of the ship. The shuttlebay door rises, and Rylek gently guides the shuttle into a small hangar. They touch down and the engines disengage.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" Sparks stands, takes his duffel bag, and turns to disembark. The others follow suit.

Captain Rashid, Alomar, and Pon are there when they disembark. "Commander Sparks!" The captain greets him with a firm handshake. "Glad to finally meet you in person. Welcome aboard Icarus."

"Thank you, Captain," he says. "It's an honour to be here. And it's certainly a change of pace from my last assignment."

"Yes, I understand that you were on Deep Space Nine coordinating the Gamma Quadrant expedition. How are things aboard that old monstrosity?"

"Never a dull moment, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that. You must have had your work cut out for you, liasing with the Dominion."

"They are tough negotiators," he says, "But I think they're finally starting to trust us. They even let me meet the Founder Odo in person a few times."

"It's a testament to your skills in scientific diplomacy," Rashid says. "It's good to have you aboard." She turns to the others. "Dr. Sorensen, it's a pleasure as always."

"Thank you, Captain."

"And Lieutenant Avala, Ensign Rylek, it's good to meet you again. You've both done extensive simulations on the conditions we'll encounter in the Core – are you ready for the real thing?"

"We are, Captain," Avala replies.

"Excellent. This is our CMO, Dr. Tomas Alomar."

"A pleasure to meet you all," he greets them.

"And our chief engineer, Commander Pon, who will give us the tour."

Pon steps forward. "Alright, listen up. You all know who I am. Welcome aboard Icarus, the first of a new generation of Starfleet science vessels. This, obviously, is the hangar bay. The shuttlepod you came on is the only one we've got. So don't break it. Come with me to the turbolift now."

Sparks glances at Avala, who widens her eyes and grins slightly as they follow the brusque Tellarite. The seven of them cluster into the turbolift. "Deck 1," Pon says. Turning to the crew, she continues, "As you know, Icarus is designed to be operated by a skeleton crew. There are six decks. Deck 1 is the bridge and captain's ready room. Deck 2 has our three science labs and sickbay. Deck 3 is crew quarters, toilets, holodeck, and the common room. Deck 4 is weapons and sensor control, and the transporter and escape pods. Deck 5 is engineering and deflector control. Deck 6 is the hangar and cargo bay."

The turbolift stops and the door slides open, revealing a round room which is completely empty except for a chair in the center and six chairs facing the dark grey bulkheads. Opposite the turbolift is a wide viewscreen open to space.

"Computer," Pon says. "Bridge setting."

Out of thin air, an array of consoles materialize around the room so that each chair faces several. Sparks is stunned. "Are those holographic?"

"Not quite," Pon replies, grinning slightly. "What you're looking at is the first starship equipped with matter projectors, a convergence of hologram and replicator technology. I was on the team that developed them. The consoles are replicated into being, and can be reconfigured on demand. It allows for maximum versatility on a small ship. Plus, if there's a power surge, your console will simply disappear, not explode and kill you."

"But it must use more power than conventional consoles," Sparks asks.

"Wrong. Power consumption is minimal. What we lose operating the matter projectors, we save by the ship having a lower overall mass. I have them installed throughout the ship."

Sparks is taken aback by her bluntness and says nothing for a moment. Alomar jumps in, "But if the ship is damaged, do we lose our interfaces?"

"If we're experiencing major systems failure, yes. But the matter projectors are tied into both main and auxiliary power, and are actually extremely stable. You're more likely to lose the system you're controlling than your console. And we have backup conventional controls down in Engineering." Pon nods to herself. "I say, why not build an entire ship that's nothing but a warp core and a set of matter projectors? But Starfleet is skittish about ships without conventional hulls. But they'll come around, mark my words."

"Commander Pon, sir," says Rylek, "Forgive my lack of understanding of this technology. But what would happen if one's extremities were in an area occupied by projected matter?"

Pon grins again. "Good question. Everyone, stand back." The crew backs towards the walls as Pon stands in the center of the room. "Computer, briefing room setting." The bridge consoles disappear, and the chairs turn and slide into an inward-facing rectangular pattern around Pon. Then a table materializes around her waist, giving the unsettling impression that her torso is sitting on the briefing table. She walks out of it as easily as if it were a hologram, then turns and knocks her fist where she had just passed through. "Sophisticated sensors supplemented by holograms and forcefields. Don't worry, my young friend – you won't get stuck."

Sparks looks around at the crew, who nod approvingly. Pon continues, "This room has two other settings: Stellar Cartography, and my personal favourite, intruder containment setting. It's based on a classical Tellarite death labyrinth and will certainly allow you to operate the ship even if intruders are mere meters from your position. Each lab is also equipped with a variety of settings for our research needs, and the sickbay's projectors can generate a range of medical equipment. Finally, crew quarters are actually just a couple of large, empty bays which can be configured into sets of individual quarters, which you can customize according to your tastes. My home on Tellar uses these too, and I'll tell you what I tell my kids: no fighting over who gets the biggest room." The captain and doctor chuckle.

Pon turns to Avala. "Lieutenant, you'll be interested to know that the ship is equipped with a transphasic torpedo launcher and a pair of phaser banks. I wouldn't recommend getting her into a fight, though, which is why she's equipped with a stealth screening system. Not a cloaking device, exactly, but it should render us invisible to the sensors of any ship that isn't specifically looking for us." Avala nods. Rashid's comm chimes, and she speaks softly into it.

"If I may, Commander," says Rashid to Pon, "We'll continue the tour afterwards. For now, Starfleet's given us the signal that we're ready to get underway! Computer, bridge setting."

The table disappears, the chairs slide back, and the consoles reappear. Pon turns to Rashid, "I guess I'll turn her over to you then. Computer, transfer command codes to Captain Zia Rashid."

"Are you sure?" says the computer gruffly. "Has she been fully briefed on how I work?"

Rashid glares at Pon. "Why is the ship arguing with you?"

"It's a Tellarite computer program, sir. We find it comforting."

"Well, turn it the hell off."

"Yes, sir. Computer, deactivate behavioural subroutine Pon-alpha and transfer command codes."

"Fine," says the computer. Switching to a more human-sounding voice, it says, "Command codes transferred."

"Thank you," Rashid says. "Everyone, take your stations!"

The crew sits at their consoles, and Rashid tugs her uniform down and sits in the captain's chair. Sparks looks at his console, running his hands on the sides of the panels just to ensure that it is fully corporeal.

"Ops reports ready," he announces.

"Helm reports ready," Rylek says.

"Tactical and communication report ready," says Avala.

"Sensors report ready," Sorensen says.

"Engineering reports ready," Pon declares loudly.

"Life support reports ready," Alomar says.

Rashid says, "Ms. Avala, signal Utopia Planetia Shipyard that we're prepared to depart.

After a moment, Avala reports, "Docking system disengaged."

"Mr. Rylek, set a course for the Galactic Core, Warp 12."

"Aye, Captain. Course laid in."

Rashid points her finger at the viewscreen. "Engage."

Captain's Log, Stardate 136395.3. It's been a week since we left Sector 001. The crew has been growing accustomed to life on Icarus, which has consisted so far of tests and simulations for when we reach the Galactic Core next month. Our journey has been largely uneventful, except for a minor disagreement yesterday with a Ferengi DaiMon over the appropriate toll for passing through their space. I've instituted a somewhat flexible shift rotation schedule, as I've found the crew is happy to work more than standard hours since, quite frankly, there isn't much else to do on Icarus.

The door to Rashid's ready room chimes. "Enter," she says.

Commander Sparks walks in with a PADD. "My report from the night shift, Captain."

"Thanks, Isaiah," she says, taking it. "Was it lonely?"

"Not too bad this time. I've been getting caught up on the classics. I finished Lord of the Rings today, finally. But Avala says she's willing to take on extra night shifts, since Andorians require so little sleep."

"I'm fine with that. I just don't want my crew getting burnt out before we even reach the Core."

"I'll let her know." He pauses for a moment. Rashid asks, "Something else, Commander?"

"Yes, Captain. It's… well, it's another complaint about a crew member."

Rashid tightens her lips. "What did Pon do this time?"

"Well, Lieutenant Sorensen was trying to configure some of the probes to emit polaron bursts to extend their range of communication, when Pon apparently stormed into the room and started screaming at her about how polaron bursts could destabilize our superspace inversion matrix and overload the engines, leaving us dead in space."

"Is that true?"

"Well, Susan thinks it might be. Quite frankly, Pon's the only one who actually understands superspace field mechanics. I sure don't – I barely passed subspace theory at the Academy, and am still a bit fuzzy on what superspace is at all, let alone how the SIM lets us travel at warp in the Core. But that's not the point. You know how Susan is – she's shy, introverted, and she doesn't really know how to deal with Pon. But she knows more about the Core than anyone else in Starfleet, even Pon. If you ask me, Pon should treat her – and all of us – with a bit more respect. Sir. Since we're stuck with each other for four months."

Rashid breathes a deep sigh. "Yes, I agree with you on that, Commander. The other day I walked in on her losing it at Rylek during a flight simulation. I thought the poor kid was going to cry. I had a talk with her after that, but to be honest, it's starting to feel like I'm saying the same thing over and over again, and I really don't want to have to discipline her before we even get to the Core. I'll talk to her again. But the fact is, she's probably the most brilliant physicist in the Federation, and we need her. Tell Susan I'll talk to Pon, but also remind her that Tellarite customs are different from ours."

"Aye, Captain," Sparks says. "But I don't think it's just a Tellarite thing. My best friend is a Tellarite, and even he's afraid of her."

She smiles. "Noted. Thanks, Isaiah." She taps her comm badge. "Commander Pon, please come to my ready room."

"Captain, I'm running a diagnostic on the deflector array."

"Pause it. I need to talk to you."

"It'll only take another 20 minutes-"

"Now, Pon. That's an order."

Silence, followed by low muttering. "Yes, Captain."

Sparks gives her a wry look. "Good luck."

She grins. "Thanks. Dismissed, Commander."

Sparks leaves, and Rashid takes a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the porthole as the stars streak by outside. After a moment, the door chimes again.

"Enter."

Pon comes in. "What do you want?"

"Have a seat, Pon."

She hesitates, then sits in the chair, leaning back, hands on her gut. Rashid takes a seat across from her. "I've received another complaint about your behaviour."

"Was it Dr. Sorensen? Because if those probes are shooting polaron bursts at us while we're at warp-"

"I'm not questioning your opinion as an engineer, Pon. It's the way you interact with the crew. You're disrespectful to them. Rude. It's not acceptable on any ship, and especially so with a small crew like this. We all have to work together-"

"Captain, I'm a Tellarite. People have to give allowances for my culture."

"Pon, I've served with plenty of Tellarites, and most of them never receive complaints. There's no excuse for this kind of behaviour, and I-"

"Captain, I'm just-"

Rashid holds up her hand. "Stop. Interrupting. Me. I won't tolerate this kind of behaviour on my ship. If I get another complaint, you'll be facing disciplinary action. Is that clear?"

Pon looks down, and growls in a low voice, "Yes, Captain."

"What's that?"

She looks up, her black eyes staring directly into Rashid's. "Yes, Captain."

"Good. Dismissed."

Pon grunts, stands up, and leaves the room. Rashid lets out a deep breath. She raises her hands. They are trembling slightly.

"Computer, play me some music. Something mellow. Early-period Herbie Hancock, maybe."

The laid-back piano of Canteloupe Island relaxes her somewhat, and she walks to the porthole and continues to watch the stars go by.

Captain's log, supplemental. We are approaching the edge of the Galactic Core, and are prepared for our first real use of the superspace inversion matrix.

"Remind me again," Alomar asks from his station on the bridge, "What exactly is the Great Barrier?"

On the viewscreen ahead of them is a dense cluster of stars stretching as far as the eye can see. Bright stars are visible against a general white-yellow background glow. Rashid is staring at it intently, fingers steepled, admiring the beautiful sight so rarely seen by human eyes.

"The term 'barrier' is a bit misleading," Sorensen explains. "It's simply the point at which the gravimetric pressures produced by those stars prevent us from forming a subspace field for warp drive."

"That's where the SIM comes in," Pon adds. "Conventional warp drive works by generating a subspace field which bends normal spacetime around us, allowing us to break the light barrier. The SIM reinforces our subspace field by generating a superspace field inside our subspace field, which is only possible in subspace. Normally that would cause both fields to collapse, but the SIM actually inverts superspace by remodulating our transphasic field harmonics using repolarized anti-proton bursts routed through the deflector grid."

"Oh," says Alomar, who glances to Avala and mouths "What?" She smiles and shrugs.

Rylek interjects, "One might say that it is like blowing up a balloon inside another balloon."

"No," says Pon. "It's nothing like that."

"Alright, Pon," says Rashid. "Is the SIM ready?"

"At your command, Captain."

"Mr. Rylek, take us in. Warp factor 1."

"Aye, Captain."

There is a low hum which increases in pitch as they move forward. Suddenly, the ship shudders and an alarm goes off.

"Warning," says the computer. "Warp field destabilizing."

"Come on," growls Pon, slamming her palm on the console and swearing in Tellarite. "Work, you piece of gnarf. I know you can do it."

"Status report, Dr. Pon?" Rashid asks.

"Oh, we're fine, Captain, just a bit of…" she trails off, her hands dancing over the console. The alarm suddenly stops and the whine decreases in pitch. "Warp field stable."

Rashid stands up, tugging down her uniform. "Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen. We are the first people in Federation history to enter the Galactic Core. This is an historic day for Starfleet."

There is a round of applause. "Hear, hear," says Sparks.

"Dr. Sorensen," says Rashid, "Let's get some of those probes ready."

"Aye, Captain."

"Dr. Pon, what do you think is the maximum speed we can sustain in here?"

"I'd say Warp 4, maybe Warp 5."

"Let's keep it to Warp 3 for now. Mr. Rylek-"

The lights suddenly dim, and the bridge consoles flicker briefly in and out of existence. Rashid feels the hair on her neck stand on end.

Then the lights brighten again and the flickering stops. "What was that?" the captain asks.

Sorensen replies, "It looks like some kind of subspace field passed through the ship, Captain. Source unknown."

"Pon, was it the SIM?"

"No, sir, it doesn't look like it. SIM reports normal. I'll go down to Engineering to double-check."

"Do it. Tomas, do a full scan on the crew's bio-signs just to be safe."

"Aye, sir." He pulls out a medical tricorder as Pon enters the turbolift.

Rylek asks, "Shall I maintain course, Captain?"

She is quiet for a moment. "Yes, maintain course. But let's keep close tabs on what's going on. We don't know much about what's in here, so let's be careful."

She stares at the viewscreen. The stars' glow increases in intensity.

Avala is not alone.

She awakens with a start, in a cold sweat. "Computer, lights!"

The lights go up, revealing her empty quarters. Her eyes and antennae scan the room. "Computer, am I alone in my quarters?"

"Affirmative."

"Was anyone else here just now?"

"Negative."

Her heart beats furiously in her chest, and she checks the readout next to her bed. "Ninety minutes' sleep," she says, glancing one last time around the room. She climbs out of bed, pulls on a tank-top and shorts, and leaves her quarters for the common room. The lights are out, but the stars of the Core illuminate it more brightly than mid-day on Andor. Rylek is sitting alone, meditating, and she smiles and sits next to him.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Lieutenant."

"Rylek," she says, "we're off-duty. Come on."

He relaxes, relatively speaking. "Apologies, Vanda."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Are you just getting off duty?"

"Yes." His brow furrows. "You are perspiring. Are you agitated?"

She leans her forehead against her palm. "Yeah. I guess I just – well, I had a dream that someone was in my quarters. This is the second time this week. I don't know – maybe it's the stars. I dimmed the opacity of the porthole in my quarters, but the light still seems to be getting in."

"That is curious," Rylek says. "I have experienced a similar sensation on several occasions since we entered the Core."

Her antennae perk up. "Really?"

"Really. It is not much – just the sense that there is another intelligence present with me. But it has only been momentary. There has been no sign that any of the rest of the crew was experiencing it. Tell me, what was the nature of your experience?"

She frowns. "Do you remember when I used to date that Betazoid, back at the Academy?"

"I do, indeed," he replies. "You said to me, 'Never date someone who can read your mind.'"

She chuckles. "And I stand by that. But I remember, I used to get this feeling every time he was in the room with me, even if I didn't know he was there. I could just feel that he was nearby, sensing my thoughts."

Rylek raises an eyebrow. "Curious. There have been unconfirmed reports that Andorians may possess some latent sensitivity to telepathy."

"Yeah," she muses. "Historians say that our distant ancestors had telepathic abilities, which were maintained by some of the subspecies on Andoria. And Vulcans are sensitive to telepathy too – you don't think there's some kind of telepathic presence here with us?"

"A logical, if unsettling conclusion."

She stares past him at the bright smear of stars outside.

"However," he adds, "I do not believe there is cause for concern yet. I suggest we alert the captain to our suspicions in the morning." He pauses awkwardly. "In the meantime, if you like, I could teach you some Vulcan meditation techniques…?"

She relaxes somewhat, smiling at him. "Maybe another time. Thanks, Rylek. You always calm me down. It reminds me of the time I was panicking about finals. Remember that?"

"I do indeed. Then, as now, I was happy to be of service, Vanda, in any capacity you require. Any."

She smiles and takes his hand. "You're a good friend, Rylek. I'm glad you're here. You're so… logical."

To Avala, it appears that Rylek blushes a shade of deep green. "I aspire to be."

After a moment, she stands. "Well, thanks. I'm going to try to get a bit more sleep. See you on the bridge."

"Yes… see you there," says Rylek, his eyes following her as she leaves the common room.

Science Officer's Log, Stardate 136402.4. Based on reports by Lieutenant Avala and Ensign Rylek, the captain believes we may be under surveillance by a telepathic alien entity. However, neural imaging of the crew has revealed none of the telltale signs of telepathic contact. To be more certain, the captain has ordered Dr. Alomar and me to run a biometric scan of our surroundings in order to investigate the possibility of lifeforms nearby.

The starlight casts a long shadow of Dr. Sorensen and Dr. Alomar through the transparent ceiling of Science Lab 1 as they parse the sensor data taken by the biometric scan. Neither speaks for nearly forty-five minutes until Alomar breaks the silence.

"You know, you should take the captain up on her offer to join us for dinner. She really is an excellent cook. Her Bolian salamander kebab is exquisite – the matter projectors allow her to create a grill in her quarters!"

Staring at the console, she replies, "I appreciate that, doctor. I will in time. There's just been so much work to do."

"Indeed there has. And yet I feel that I have rarely seen you, despite being on this small ship together for well over a month."

She looks over at him. "It's nothing personal, doctor. It's just… when I have down time, I prefer to spend it alone. I always have."

He smiles. "That may be a valuable survival technique when put in such close quarters with a very few people."

There is more silence as they examine the readouts. Eventually, she asks, "Do you really think we are being watched?"

"I am not certain. There is no evidence so far. But, telepathy is a tricky thing. We've had concrete evidence of its existence for over four centuries, and yet we still do not understand fully how it works. There are at least five known types of telepathy which work in entirely different ways, and there may yet be undiscovered forms." He pauses. "But I, for one, certainly hope they are mistaken."

"Well, based on this scan, it looks like they are. There's no evidence of life anywhere within the admittedly narrow range of our sensors."

"Yes, my readings are coming up negative as well. Of course, it's hard to imagine where exactly a life form could be in this environment. We haven't seen any planets yet that are even remotely habitable."

She furrows her brow. "Yes, and there's been no sign of ships either. But that's not surprising, since warp travel is impossible in here. Unless…"

He raises his eyebrow. "You have an idea?"

"Well, a ship could be using superspace technology the same way we are. I've observed that we leave a distinctive gravimetric wake when we use the SIM drive. If there's another ship here, I might be able to configure the sensors to detect it."

"That seems worthwhile," he says.

She sets to work reconfiguring the sensors. Alomar asks, "Tell me, Susan, do you have any family back home?"

"Just my cat, Data," she answers, not looking up. "He's with one of my grad students right now. What about yourself?"

"I have a husband and two teenage daughters back in Havana," he answers. "I miss them. But the life of a Starfleet officer is hard on families."

"Yes. I've never felt the need for one, myself," she says. "A few friends and my work is enough for me." Her console beeps. "There. I've configured the sensors. Computer, run scan program Sorensen Lambda-2."

"Working," says the computer. After a moment, her console beeps again. She peers down at it. "Well. This is interesting."

"What is it?" he asks, coming over.

She points at a star chart on her console. "There. It looks like there's another ship creating a gravimetric wake that's very similar to ours."

"Could those be our telepathic friends?"

"Maybe. They're quite far away, though. I should alert the captain." She taps her comm badge. "Sorensen to Captain Rashid. I believe I may have found another ship."

Rashid replies, "Great work, Susan. Meet me on the bridge right away."

"Aye, captain. Computer, deactivate Lab 1, route all sensor telemetry to Deck 1 and set to Stellar Cartography setting." She and Alomar turn for the door as the lab's equipment vanishes, leaving only an empty room illuminated by the cloud of stars.

Moments later, they meet the captain on Deck 1, which is configured to be a holographic 360-degree panorama of stars suspended in midair. The rest of the crew arrives shortly after.

"Tell me what you've got, Dr. Sorensen," the captain says.

Sorensen points to a small point on the holographic star chart, which floats in front of them. "I've detected a gravimetric wake which could indicate the presence of a ship. It appears to be moving toward the edge of the Galactic Core, bearing three seven five mark four."

Pon peers at the readout. "This can't be right."

Sorensen stiffens. "I assure you that it is, unless there's something wrong with the sensor array."

"No… it's just… look." She moves to the point in the star chart, then reaches towards the point in the chart representing Icarus and moves them side by side. "Look at this."

Sorensen and the captain stare at the data. "The wake is being generated at the exact same quantum frequency," Sorensen observes.

"Exactly," Pon says.

Rashid stares at the readout. "But that would only be possible if they had an identical drive to ours."

The three women exchange incredulous glances. Sorensen says, "Well, whatever it is, it's moving closer to the edge of the Core at Warp 1."

"Let's try to get to the bottom of this. Computer, bridge setting." The star chart disappears and the bridge materializes. Rashid takes her seat. "Mr. Rylek, move to intercept, Warp 3. Avala, Yellow Alert."

"Aye, Captain," Avala says. "Shall I enter stealth mode?"

"No. We don't want to sneak up and surprise them. Once we're in range, try to hail them. Dr. Sorensen, what can you tell me about that ship?"

"Not much, Captain. I can tell that they are running a superspace inversion matrix which is, for all intents and purposes, identical to our own, but I'm not reading anything on the ship."

"Could they have a stealth system similar to ours?" Sparks asks. "Or a cloaking device?"

"It's possible," Sorensen replies. "Hold on – I'm detecting unusual levels of epsilon radiation coming from within the superspace field."

"That's usually only found very close to the event horizon of a black hole," Avala observes.

"Yes, and it's also preventing me from getting any kind of telemetry on the ship."

Rashid narrows her eyes. "Mr. Rylek, how long until we're in visual range?"

"Ninety seconds, sir."

There is silence for a moment as the thick stars streak past on the viewscreen. Rashid asks, "Ms. Avala, Mr. Rylek, are you sensing any kind of presence like you did before?"

"No sir," they both answer.

"Captain," growls Pon, "None of this makes any sense. The only way I could be getting these readings is if that ship had an engine with an identical configuration to ours. And the odds of that are astronomical."

"I share your frustration, Dr. Pon," Rashid says. "Are we within visual range, Mr. Rylek?"

"Entering range now, Captain."

"On screen. Maximum magnification."

The viewscreen zooms in on a small silver object travelling through space. As they draw closer, they can see the outlines of double nacelles and an arrowhead-shaped saucer section.

"I don't believe it," Sparks says. "It's us."

Rashid peers at the vessel. "Hail them, Ms. Avala."

After a moment, "No response, sir."

Pon turns to her. "Captain, I can't believe I'm saying this, but if that's another Icarus, they may be using the stealth system. I can configure the sensors to counteract it."

"Do it."

After a moment, Sorensen reports, "There we go… I'm getting some more readings on the ship, still very sporadic from the epsilon radiation. It looks… it looks like the ship's sustained heavy damage."

As they move closer, they can see blast marks on the hull. Rashid asks the crew, "Any thoughts on what we're dealing with here?"

Avala suggests, "If we have been observed by aliens since entering the Core, this could be some kind of trap they've created. For us or for Starfleet."

"I have another theory," says Pon. "Judging from the telemetry I'm getting on their superspace field, it looks like their SIM has been subject to considerable wear and tear. I'd say we may be looking at ourselves… from the future."

The ship is large in their viewscreen now. Rashid says, "Mr. Rylek, match their speed and heading. I want to find out exactly what's going on here. Can you get any more information, Dr. Sorensen?"

"Not much, sir, although it looks like most major systems are offline, including life support. But even at close range, the sensors can't penetrate large sections of the hull. It's been totally irradiated somehow."

Rashid turns to Alomar. "Tomas, is epsilon radiation harmful to humanoid physiology?"

"Only after long-term exposure," he replies. "Wait… where are you going with this?"

Rashid says, "We need to find out who – or what – created that ship. We can't let it leave the Core without having some idea of what it is. Still no response on hailing frequencies, Ms. Avala?"

"None, sir."

Rashid stands up. "Then we're taking an away team in. Pon, Tomas, you're with me. Get the environmental suits and meet me in the hangar bay."

"Sir," Sparks interjects, standing up, "As first officer, I must remind you that Starfleet regulations clearly state that you remain on the bridge. I can lead the away team."

"Thank you, Commander," she replies, "But we may be dealing with an application of the Temporal Prime Directive here, and if that's the case, regulations also specify the need for the highest-ranking officer to make all relevant decisions. Don't worry – the new environmental suits have built-in pattern enhancers which should allow you to beam us out of just about anywhere." She strides toward the turbolift, Pon and Alomar at her side. "Mr. Sparks, you have the bridge. Keep a close eye on us."

Reluctantly, he takes his seat again. "Aye, Captain."

Captain's log, supplemental. We have discovered what appears to be another Icarus, heavily damaged and making its way out of the Core. Initial investigations suggest that it may be from the future. I am bringing a boarding party to investigate. The ship is heavily irradiated, making transport impossible, so we are landing the shuttlepod on the hull of the ship and entering from the outside.

It is a short distance between the two Icaruses, allowing the shuttlepod to travel through the ships' merged warp fields and land on the outer hull of the damaged ship.

"What exactly is our mission here?" asks Pon, securing her environmental suit's helmet.

Rashid gently guides the shuttle to the saucer section of the damaged Icarus. "We're going to find out exactly what this is. If it does appear that the ship is us from the future, we'll have to proceed very carefully to avoid contaminating the timeline, but I'm considering that only one of several possibilities for the time being."

Pon replies, "Good. On close inspection, I should be able to determine whether time travel has occurred. But I don't have to remind you that if it is, we'll have to get off the ship as soon as possible to avoid violating the Temporal Prime Directive."

Alomar asks, "What if we find our future selves aboard, wounded or dead? I'm not leaving anyone to die on that ship, whether they're from the future or not. And if we find our own dead bodies, shouldn't we try to figure out what happened so we can avoid it? I, for one, would prefer not to die out here."

"I'll consider that decision if and when it arises," Rashid tells them as the shuttlepod touches down on the hull of the ship. She puts on her helmet. "For now, prepare to disembark."

She powers down the shuttlepod and they step into the airlock. The inner airlock door closes, and the air around them is sucked out with a whoosh as the outer airlock opens. They step out into the silent luminosity of space.

Pon steps forward, scanning the ship with the tricorder built into her suit. The readouts flicker in front of her eyes. "There, ahead of us," she gestures. "There's an airlock which will lead us into the Jeffries tubes on Deck 1."

They walk forward, with their breathing the only audible sound. Pon enters a code on an airlock. "It's not responding," she says. "Stand back." She raises her arm and fires a phaser burst from her wrist, then pulls. The airlock opens and they crawl inside.

The Jeffries tube is cramped, and debris floats aimlessly before them. Alomar scans the tube. "Life support has failed completely. I'm not reading any lifesigns."

"This way," Pon gestures, crawling forward. She wrestles with a hatch, then pulls it off and crawls through. The others follow suit.

They are on Deck 1. Several of the chairs have come loose and are floating in the middle of the room. To the port, bridge consoles flicker sporadically into existence. A part of the briefing room table hovers in the starboard part of the room, also flickering, and part of the Stellar Cartography star chart is near the viewscreen.

"Computer," says Pon, but there is no response.

Waving his built-in tricorder around the room, Alomar says, "I'm not detecting any organic material around here, Captain, except some residue. I can't be sure, but it looks like it's been here for at least a week. Human, Tellarite, Vulcan, Andorian… we were here, that's for sure, but it looks like we've been gone for a while."

"Pon," Rashid says into her comm, "Get down to Engineering and see if you can figure out what happened. Tomas, get down to the hangar – I'll go check the escape pods. If there are survivors, they'll have to be somewhere with an independent life support system."

"Aye, Captain," they reply. Rashid shines her light once again around the room, then follows them into the Jeffries tube.

They reach a juncture. "Engineering and the hangar are this way," Pon announces. "Captain, if you climb down this ladder to the very bottom, you'll reach Deck 4 and the escape pods."

"Hopefully they're gone," Alomar says, meeting Rashid's eye. "Good luck, Zia."

"You too, Tomas, Pon."

They crawl out of sight as Rashid climbs down the ladder. Eventually she reaches the bottom and, with some struggle, opens the hatch leading to Deck 4.

It is illuminated only by starlight. She walks forward, scanning, but her readouts are scrambled. She activates the comm. "Rashid to Pon."

Over heavy interference, she hears, "Pon here."

"Pon, the radiation is really heavy down here, but it looks like at least two of the escape pods are still in place. There's no one inside."

"Copy that. There are four total. I'm almost at Engineering."

Rashid continues forward, knocking aside a piece of bulkhead floating in the corridor. It bounces silently off the ceiling.

Her comm unit beeps again. "This is Alomar. Captain, the shuttlepod is gone."

"That's good news, at least. Hold on, I'm checking Escape Pods 3 and 4." She taps a console next to the escape pod hatch. "I think Pod 4 is in use."

She brings her scanner to bear on the hatch. The radiation is extremely heavy and her scans are useless. Pointing her phaser arm towards the door, she activates the control. The hatch slides open, the air kept inside by a forcefield powered by the pod. It is dark inside.

"I'm going in," she tells Alomar. His reply is scrambled beyond recognition.

Breathing heavily, her heartbeat loud in her suit, she steps inside the cramped pod. There are small seats on either side. A blue-green globe sits on the port seat. In the starboard seat, there is a figure in a red uniform curled up. It raises its head and turns to her.

Captain Rashid stares, stunned, into her own eyes.

TO BE CONTINUED…