PUBLISHED ON Oct 16, 2021

Chapter 1: Contact, Phase 1

Enterprise-D, Bridge
Stardate 44097.2
1034 Shipboard time

As captain of the Enterprise-D, priority missions from Starfleet were nothing new to Picard or his crew. The circumstances surrounding this one however were distinctly different, and it was bothering him to no end. Odd transmissions, detection of unknown phenomena, both of those and more were known things to anyone that traveled through space, especially Starfleet personnel. What made this particularly odd and worrying were two primary factors. One, the sheer amount of communications coming out of what was formerly a large and mostly uninhabited sector of space between no less than three galactic powers was cause for concern at any political level. The second factor, the one that was bothering Picard the most was that according to reports from Federation posts that had witnessed the event that led to this change, it was preceded by an energy discharge similar to Q pulling one his tricks, albeit on a far larger scale than anything witnessed before from the mercurial being.

The Enterprise was making good time by Data's estimates, and would be on the nebulous border to this altered region of space shortly, but Picard had to wonder what they were going to find. Even for Q, to just alter an entire region of the galaxy seemed rash. The beeping tone of a sensor alert caught his attention. 'Well, I suppose we had to come across something eventually,' he thought with a sigh. "Commander Data, report."

"Sensors are picking up what seems to be a debris field, captain," the android commander carefully examined the data feed coming from the ship's sensors, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Correction, this seems to be a large debris field. Most of the ships the sensors are detecting have suffered extreme and catastrophic damage. This makes it difficult to get an exact reading and determine how many ships comprise the field, captain. However, given the pattern of repeated parts and general patterns of ship construction techniques for most known civilizations, it is likely that the field is comprised of upwards of at least two dozen vessels at current estimates."

"Two dozen?" William Riker's response was incredulous and mirrored what everyone else on the bridge was thinking. "What happened out here?" Picard tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"That's a good question, Number One. Commander, bring us out of warp. I want a scan of that debris field. And get Commander La Forge up here. Whatever insight he may be able to offer would be most appreciated."

Floating a good several hundred kilometers away from the wrecked hulks of the unknown vessels, even at this distance their scale was impressive. Even if they weren't wrecked, Riker thought they had to have been harsh looking things. They were had an odd hammerhead-like design to them, and what scans they'd taken thus far matched nothing in any records the Enterprise possessed. This did little to help Riker's mood, especially given recent events. "And I thought they couldn't get any bigger…" he muttered. This drew an odd look from Picard.

"Something on your mind, Will?" Picard had softened in some ways since he first became the captain of the Enterprise, and their recent fight with the Borg, and the trauma associated with it, almost certainly played a role in his more recent lack of formality at times.

"No sir," he paused. "Well…yes, I suppose so. I'm just thinking, the Borg cube was already larger than any vessel recorded. It was three cubic kilometers across and it almost brought the Federation to its knees," he paused again, seeing the discomfort in his captain's features. "I'm just a bit concerned, sir. Those hulks out there are massive."

"Eleven kilometers in length by mine and the computer's estimates based on the wreckage we're seeing," La Forge added without any prompting, earning him an annoyed look from Riker, but there was no anger in it. "Sorry, Commander," he said with a well-meaning grimace. "I had to be sure so I ran the numbers myself. Whoever built those ships, they build big, bigger than the Borg in some respects. I don't know whether I should be impressed, or worried, or both. Unfortunately, whatever happened here was a long time ago, about three decades if I had to guess. These wrecks are old. If I wanted to make a more detailed analysis, I'd have to take a team to one of the more intact hulks, and I don't know if we have time for that. Plus, I'm not sure I'd want to without an entire starbase's worth of support. There's no telling what else could be on those ships. I doubt there are any survivors, but that doesn't rule out containments or something to that effect. I also don't recognize any of the markings or other identifiers on the more intact derelicts." Picard nodded his assent. He agreed with Geordi's assessment of the situation, the chief of engineering on the ship was usually accurate even when he had only basic information with which to work. He turned his head to the viewscreen, observing the ships.

"You make a good point, Commander La Forge, but even without a detailed analysis, there's still some useful information to be gleaned from these ruined ships," he said taking steps closer and raising a finger to one of the more intact derelicts. "Commander Data, would you please zoom in on this particular vessel." The order was carried out without delay and soon the viewscreen was near totally filled by the indicated vessel.

"Hm…and I thought the Klingons built their ships to be utilitarian," was La Forge's first impression. "But this?" he whistled. "Lots of hard angular surfaces, even if it does all flow together, I'm not sure I've seen a ship like that anywhere in the Alpha or Beta Quadrants. It's also a bit of an odd design choice with how exposed the bridge is. It's almost like a call back to old Earth naval vessels. The hammerhead design is a bit weird by most standards, but I guess if the prow is armored it'd be good for taking a few hits. There's some sort of emitter or…something in the middle of the prow, but without a more detailed analysis I can only guess as to what it is."

"Turrets," came the voice of Worf at the weapons console. When the other officers on the bridge turned to him for elaboration, he looked somewhat mortified before continuing. "Apologies, commander, but I noticed that the weapon mounts on this vessel are turreted. It's another divergence from the usual hard points most known ships use. I thought it could be important." He looked ahead at the screen, trying to scrutinize the vessels more. "If I had to make an assumption about these vessels, they were clearly military compared to the Enterprise. It is highly possible that any inhabitants of this altered region may be hostile to our intrusion. Captain, I think it would be prudent bringing the ship to yellow alert. Even if any local forces are not inherently hostile to our presence, the last time the quadrant saw such a level of destruction was the…" he trailed off, not wanting to say it. It was the disaster at Wolf-359, dozens of Federation and Klingon ships wiped out by a single Borg cube. If something similar had happened here, he wasn't sure what the Enterprise's chances of success were in a fight, not that it would deter him from his duty. All the same, Picard nodded in understanding.

"I understand your concern, Commander Worf, but let's not jump to any conclusion just yet. If Commander La Forge's estimates are accurate, and they usually are, these wrecks are decades old. It's possible they're just a remnant of a war long over. At the very least, they may give us a clue on how to proceed. Continue with scans for now, Commander Data. Keep me informed. I'll be in my ready room compiling a report of what information we have thus far."

"Captain!" Data called out to him as he turned to go. "There is one more thing you should see, sir." Turning back, Picard saw what it was that had caught Data's attention. There was an identifier of some sort on the derelict, something they'd missed in their initial scans.

"Captain," Data began slowly, "based on linguistics records; the markings on the ship are the Cyrillic alphabet, likely some variant of Russian." Picard turned to Worf, an eyebrow arched. Uncharacteristically, the Klingon officer seemed confused by this revelation.

"I agree with Commander Data, sir. The dialect used seems to be a bit different from the one I know, but I can read it. It's an identifier, captain, marking the ship as the UEDS Kaliningrad."

The Mariposa
February 28, 2528, Koprulu Terran Calendar
1256 Shipboard time

Samuel Grigsby was ecstatic. He'd hit a proverbial motherlode as far as scavengers and surveyors like himself were concerned. Even near thirty years or so since the UED came to Koprulu and got their asses kicked, one could still find debris fields on planets and in space all over the sector. Even with all the advances in tech, both stolen from the UED and that which had come out of the End War as folks called it, people still paid good price for this sort of salvage, and he was the first to find and lay claim to this field, he knew that for a fact. This was his second go at it, and the first alone had netted him enough money to get some much needed repairs and upgrades done. Scavenging wasn't exactly what most folks thought of as glamorous, but it was honest work, mostly. Sure he had to frag the odd pirate every now and again but that wasn't exactly anything new in this sector. He'd been doing this job for thirty years now, he knew his way around things.

He felt his ship buck like she always did just before they exited FTL, and smiled. 'Come on, baby. Second pass through this, still plenty of treasures to find.' If the last haul was enough to get all her issues ironed out and upgrade her storage capacity and salvage drones, there was no telling what the next would bring in, and he couldn't imagine anything going wrong.

This feeling lasted for all of a nanosecond as his ship dropped back into normal space time, and he beheld a vessel larger than his floating nearby the debris field. With a startled cry of "Jaysus!" he steered for the nearest hulk, quickly trying to shut down as much as he could to reduce his power signature, not that he thought it'd do him much good. There was no way that weird ship hadn't detected him dropping out. 'Weird, doesn't look Terran or 'Toss, and it sure as hell ain't Zerg,' some part of him noted. 'Ah, it don't matter. If they catch me they'll probably blow the old girl away to get the salvage for themselves. Need to find a place to hide and spool the drive back up and get out of here, maybe even warn the folks at Konnie about this. Shit, what if another ship has already found them?'

Enterprise-D, Bridge
Stardate 44097.2
1300 Shipboard time

"Mister Data," Riker started slowly, "What the hell was that?" He knew what he'd seen, it was quickly a vessel dropping out of what he was fairly sure was some manner of warp, but he figured he'd say what everyone else was thinking. That seemed to be half of his job description some days.

"An unknown vessel dropped out of warp and entered the debris field upon making sensor contact, sir. Its arrival was preceded by the formation of some manner of minor anomaly, possibly subspace-related. I am currently tracking it on sensors. Do you want me to attempt to hail it, Commander Riker?" Before Riker could give any further orders, Picard emerged from his ready room, likely having been monitoring things from there.

"One moment, Number One," Picard was his usual reserved self, but Riker could tell there was a subdued enthusiasm there. "Mister Data, please bring up a visual of the ship first. I want to see what we're dealing with before we try to open communications." Nodding, the junior officer did so. What greeted the bridge crew on the main screen was an ugly thing of a ship that looked like it'd been upgraded, repaired, and retrofitted at least a dozen times over, probably more. It was basically a flying metal box with additional boxes attached to it. La Forge couldn't help but let out a low whistle.

"Well…she's not a looker, but she can certainly move, that's for sure. If I had to guess, I'd almost say she's a salvage vessel given all the extraneous parts hanging on her, could be extra cargo space, but that's just an educated guess based on Alpha Quadrant norms, captain. For all I know those could be torpedo pods."

Picard nodded, but something felt off, something…he turned to the ship's councilor and resident telepath Deanna Troi. She'd been conspicuously quiet before. She was something of a cultural expert, even if ships weren't her forte, but the silence on her part now was noticeable. He saw an expression of shock writ large on her face. "Deanna, is something the matter? Is there something on that ship that you can sense?" he maintained a clam but professional tone as he usually did such circumstances, but seeing the usually unflappable Betazoid so concerned over a single ship was itself disquieting.

"Captain," she looked at him, her voice deathly serious. "There's a single occupant on that ship, I believe. At this range it's a bit difficult to tell. That's not what has me worried, Captain. The feeling I'm getting from that ship…there's a human on board, and I think they're terrified." Riker and Picard cast confused and worried glances at each other. There had been a few minor Federation colonies out here, but nothing that would produce ships like were in the debris field or the one that had just arrived. That Deanna said she'd felt a human presence, let alone one that was in a state of mental distress, likely because of the Enterprise only worsened the situation in their eyes. The questions continued to compound, with not even a complicated explanation, let alone a clear one.

"Commander Data, open a hailing frequency to that ship, all channels. I want to talk to whoever is piloting it and maybe get some answers."

The Mariposa
February 28, 2528, Koprulu Terran Calendar
1310 Shipboard time

Grigsby sat in silence and darkness, save for the hums and beeps and soft light of his instruments. He was glad for the heavy clothing he'd opted to don earlier in the morning; he'd turned down life support, heating, weapons, and damn near everything else to drop his overall power signature until he could spool up the drive and get the hell out of the field. His breath came out frosted and misty every time he exhaled. It was getting cold, but he'd be fine for a bit longer.

'Come on, come on,' he thought desperately, blowing warm breath on his hands to try and keep them from getting stiff. 'Just a bit longer, then we can get the hell out of here, girl.' He really didn't want to be here. He had no idea what that ship could do, and he figured if it was coming from outside of Koprulu there was every chance it was bad news. For all he knew it could be some weird UED scout ship, and if that was the case than he had get back to his last port of call and get the word out. 'Can't believe I'm saying this, but we may need help from the Dommies and Umos if Earth is coming back for round two. Hell, who am I kidding? We will need help. I just hope this doesn't turn into a repeat of the damn Brood Wars.'

He leaned back in his chair, trying to keep from shivering. Then he heard a soft, repeated beep, accompanied by a softly repeating LED on his board. It was his communications panel. That ship was trying to hail him. Samuel Grigsby did something he'd not done in decades, he locked up. He sat there for what felt like hours, staring at the softly blinking LED, wondering what he should do.

'If I answer they'll just blow me to bits!' some part of him argued. 'Don't answer, just spool up the drive and get the hell out the moment it's ready!' Something about this felt off to him though. They'd had to have seen the general part of the field he'd dived into the moment he noticed the ship. There was near to no chance they hadn't. They'd just have to do a thorough enough sensor sweep and they'd probably find him. The Mariposa wasn't designed for stealth.

'So why the hell are they hailing me then?' another part of him idly wondered. 'If they know where I am, they wouldn't need the coms signal to home in on me by now…probably at least. Maybe they just want to talk?' He shook his head at that thought. It was naive thinking. Sure, things had gotten better in the last twenty years. The Protoss weren't as stuck up, some of them were even seemed to enjoy being around humans these days. The Umojans weren't quite as paranoid isolationist so one may see a few of their long-range patrol fleets out on the rim, and the Dominion was certainly…better now that Mengsk Senior was a stain on some wall somewhere. Even the bulk of the Zerg had calmed down, but that didn't make the feral or renegade broods any less dangerous.

He sat there for a few moments longer, pondering on what to do before his hand reached out to the console. 'Screw it,' he thought. 'If they blow the old girl to bits it'll at least be quick.' He hit the button to accept the call, and did his best to put on a brave face. "This is Samuel Grigsby aboard the Mariposa. Who are you, and what do you want?"

Enterprise-D, Bridge
Stardate 44097.2
1305 Shipboard time

The bridge was silent, tense save for the consoles. Data had set the hails to repeat on all frequencies until the other vessel either accepted the transmission, if it could, or when the captain ordered the transmission to be cut. No one was sure what would happen next. There are too many possibilities, too many questions without answers, and more questions with unpleasant implications, especially if Q was behind this. Picard sat in his command chair, idly tapping his chin. 'Damn you, Q,' his face was placid and professional, but inside he was fuming. 'If this is another one of your games, then what are you playing at? What have you done? If the lifeform aboard that ship is human where did you drag them from? Where is their home? Who are they? Damn it all, if this is your follow up to the Borg, then perhaps next time we meet I should greet you with all the farce of one of Shakespeare's comedies.'

There was a chime that echoed through the near-silent bridge. The transmission had been accepted. "The unknown vessel has accepted our request, captain," Data, on point as always. "No visual feed, audio only," he paused before putting it through to the bridge's audio system. "Curious, captain. The universal translator registers the language as English." Picard simply nodded for Data to put it through.
"This is Samuel Grigsby aboard the Mariposa," came a voice, oddly heavily accented. To Riker it reminded him of the American south or Midwest. "Who are you, and what do you want?" There was a pause. "If you want the debris field for salvage, you can have it, it's yours. Just let me go without a fuss and I won't tell anyone about you."

Picard stood, the confusion on the bridge becoming palpable, but it wasn't unlike other situations he'd been in before. He'd maintain the calm and rationality he'd built his career upon, just as he always did in first contact scenarios. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise, United Federation of Planets," he spoke loudly, clearly, with authority but not malice. "I would like to be clear Mister Grigsby, I nor my crew mean you any harm. We are peaceful explorers; we had simply detected the debris field and stopped to investigate. You have my sincere apologies if the unexpected presence of our vessel caused you any distress." Another pause.

"No…no way in hell," the man on the other end sounded completely stunned. "You're human? No, no way. Only humans outside of Koprulu are from Earth, and they ain't the types to just come in and talk all nicely." Picard threw a confused look to Deanna as he gestured for the outgoing audio to be muted; she was holding her chin, her brow furrowed.

"I don't sense any ill intention or intent to deceive on his part, captain. At the very least, the man believes what he's saying. Although I have no idea what it is he's talking about." Picard simply nodded, and turned back to the viewscreen.

"Mister Grigsby, I assure you our intentions are peaceful. Whatever your dealings with Earth have been in the past, the Federation is not what you think it to be. We simply desire peaceful contact so that we may learn about each other. It is why we are here at all. As I said, we are explorers, not conquerors," Picard could hear the other man breathing heavily; it sounded like he was a mix of angry and freezing. 'My God, did he cut his own life support and heat to try and hide from us?'

"You mean to say you aren't with the UED? Be truthful now. Folks out here tend to prefer blunt and to the point honesty," Grigsby shot back, a bit of venom in his voice, but there was an audible undertone of fear.

"What exactly is the UED? We've never heard of this organization," Riker spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. Picard didn't seem to mind, he'd probably been thinking the same thing.

"UED," Grigsby repeated with some frustration. "United Earth Directorate. You know, the fascist assholes that rolled in here and tried to annex the whole damn sector about thirty years back? You honestly don't know what I'm talking about? Exiled all our ancestors from Earth for being free thinkers and political dissidents and mutants and such?" The bridge grew cold at Grigsby's words. To some of the bridge crew, this sound vaguely like the old Terran Empire, or worse the mirror universe Starfleet had encountered on occasion. But even then that sounded like it didn't quite grasp the scope of what Grigsby was implying.

"Mister Grigsby, I assure you I do not know what you are talking about, as horrible as that may sound. I cannot begin to imagine what it is your people went through, however long ago this was," Picard was trying to pick his words carefully. It felt like he was trying to walk through a minefield. "But as a native of Earth, of France, I can assure you, I have never seen any trace of evidence that this United Earth Directorate has ever existed. The Federation is a society built on the ideals of individual freedom, liberty, choice and self-actualization. I assure you, whatever has happened to your people, they will not be treated as lesser." The next pause was longer, heavier, the moments slowly ticking by before Grigsby responded again.

"Aw, hell…you're either one hell of a liar or you're telling the truth, and I can't tell which it is. Alright, let's say I believe you, what happens next?" The man's voice was still strained, but there was a new undercurrent to it, something very different from before. Perhaps it was hope.

"Mister Grigsby, as you are the first person we have met in this region, this…" he rolled the name on his tongue for a moment. "Koprulu sector, I would like to extend an invitation for you to come aboard so we may talk face to face. Perhaps that will help with elaborating things further." Grigsby took a deep, shaking breath. The man was most certainly freezing at this point.

"Yeah, alright fine. Just give me clearance and a place to hook my ship up to yours and I'll be right over," he sounded tired. Will Riker stood from his chair.

"That won't be necessary, Mister Grigsby, if you've got a transporter we can-" there was a strangled noise from Grigsby, and it took those on the bridge a moment to realize it was a suppressed snort before it became a full laugh.

"Ah…sonny, don't kid me. If you're telling the truth even in part that marks you as an outsider right there. Ain't no one got fancy teleporter tech unless it's the 'Toss, and they don't share that stuff with anyone. An airlock will do just fine so long as you tell me where." Even though there was no video feed, Picard nodded.

"Understood, Mister Grigsby. Commander Data will send you docking coordinates, and we'll meet you at the specified airlock." He gestured for the transmission to be cut and turned to Riker. "Will, what do you make of this?" Picard wasn't so sure himself.

"With all due respect, captain, I haven't a clue. The man certainly sounded like he believed everything he was saying, but I can't explain any of what he said, not unless he's from another universe entirely. Something like the mirror universe perhaps, but radically different." Picard nodded slowly, more and more he didn't like the implications of what was happening here.

"And if the report from Starfleet was right, Q may very well be behind this. To what end he's done…" he gestured at the viewscreen. "all of this I don't know, but I intend to find out, and maybe, just maybe repair some of the damage he's almost certainly done," he sighed slowly. "Commander Data, you have the bridge. Number One, Commander Worf, with me, and have a pair of security officers meet us as the airlock, just in case."

The Mariposa
February 28, 2528, Koprulu Terran Calendar
1345 Shipboard time

Part of Grigsby couldn't believe he was doing this. It was completely insane. For all he knew he was marching into the lion's den and practically offering himself up. He didn't quite know what to think still, but he figured running wasn't really an option any more. Plus, some part of him wouldn't forgive himself if it turned out even in some way these folks were telling the truth. He'd seen and done a lot of things in his life, some of which he wasn't particularly proud of, even if he'd had good reason at the time, sometimes at least. He wasn't exactly sinless; most folks on the rim weren't in some way except those rare sorts. Some people took comfort in that. After all, James Raynor started as a bandit and disappeared as a hero to at the minimum humans and Protoss both. Well, mostly. Still, there was that cynical voice in the back of his head. It wasn't quite as violently egging him on to run, but now it was screaming he should be ready, just in case something went wrong. After all, he had the means beyond the sidearm on his hip. But that voice wouldn't relent, and it kept going on about how sometimes you had to look and act the part of the tough guy to really work out what people were like, that sometimes you needed to inject a little fear to make people tell you the truth straight.

One part of him still urged caution, but to hear these people out. After all, it wasn't that long ago, he reflected, that Terrans, Protoss and Zerg were all killing each other without a second thought, and now there'd been two decades of peace all the big players were working to maintain. That had to count for something. If the Zerg of all things could learn to calm down and actually talk to other people as, well, people, than maybe it was hypocritical to not at least hear the folks on that weird ship out in turn. He ran a hand through his hair, some of it greying early, and turned in his seat, the cynical voice still nagging him.

He looked behind him, at the old, old suit of CMC-200 powered armor and the Great War era C-14 he'd inherited from his father and his father before him in turn. It'd gotten him out of some tough spots, turned what would have been a bad disagreement into something he walked away from, and he was beginning to wonder if it would do the same for him here and now. After all, there was no harm in being prepared, right?