Chapter 2: Routine Assignment

"Very well, Commander Wallace. I'll take the initial report in my ready room. Commander Williams, you have the bridge."

"Aye, sir."

As he stood and turned to leave, relinquishing the center chair to his XO, Captain Nathan Townsend glanced about the bridge one last time to ensure all was well, before briskly making his way to his ready room.

The automatic door slid open to admit him, the characteristic swish the only sound to be heard on the bridge besides the usual ambient sounds of a starship underway. As it closed behind him, the captain stretched, his muscles protesting slightly from nearly two hours of disuse as he had monitored the approach towards and initial analysis of the Federation's latest find. His command, the newly-commissioned ship of the line USS Prometheus, had been tapped by the higher-ups at Starfleet to conduct a scientific investigation into the formation of what appeared to be a stable subspace wormhole only two light-years beyond the edge of the Sol system. The discovery had piqued the interest of the Federation's scientists, who were eager to study the conditions under which such anomalies were formed; to them, a specimen in such an early stage of development could prove to be an invaluable goldmine of research data.

He sat at the ready room desk, bringing up the raw, unprocessed data on his PADD as he settled down with a steaming cup of his favorite jasmine tea, which he sipped as he reviewed the information. Estimated date of formation, approximately three days ago, he noted. The first time the Federation has been able to observe the formation of a natural wormhole, and we get a front-seat view. He noted key characteristics as he continued to scan through; 30.2 meters in diameter, with no detectable expansion or contraction; low-level radiation emissions from the wormhole itself, barely at our sensors' minimum threshold above background, just enough to be detectable; nothing particularly notable about the local area, aside from the fact that something just punched a big hole in it...

A muted tone from the desk caught his attention. "Bridge to Captain Townsend," the deep, clear voice of his second-in-command sounded clearly from the desk's built-in communicator.

"Go ahead, Commander," the captain replied.

"Sir, we have detected a minor surge in emission levels accompanied by a one-point-three meter increase in the wormhole's diameter over the past twenty seconds."

Townsend glanced back at the PADD for confirmation; the elevated readings were automatically highlighted as the data updated itself from the ship's sensor data in realtime. "I've got the numbers in here. Stay alert, and keep me informed."

"Aye, sir."

Townsend watched the numbers fluctuate slightly for about a minute before they began to stabilize. This could be interesting, the captain thought to himself. An active wormhole, with Earth only a couple light-years away...Starfleet Command is going to be a bit twitchy with this one, no doubt.

----

"Captain's Log, supplemental. The USS Los Alamos has just arrived to assist in research efforts, with additional sensors and specialists from Starfleet's scientific division. The wormhole itself has exhibited few signs of instability over the past three days, with occasional, very brief periods of growth of up to two meters in diameter per occurrence. Data received from probes launched into the anomaly have not provided a significant amount of useful information, but we are continuing to conduct a detailed analysis of all data collected in the hope that we can find out how these things are formed."

Tapping the screen to end the log entry, the captain allowed himself a slight yawn as he prepared to turn in for the 'night'. The CO of the research vessel Los Alamos, one Commander Gregory Young, had contacted him nearly twenty minutes prior, appraising Townsend of his ship's mission-specific capabilities and with assurances that his ship and crew were at the captain's disposal.

He stood and stretched, and made his way across the ready room to his cabin. The door opened to admit him, and he stepped inside, intending to get a decent night's rest to prepare for another full day of analysis and data review. He had gotten no further than halfway across the cabin before a warning tone from the overhead communicator cut him short. "Yellow Alert! Captain Townsend to the bridge!"

The captain was there in under ten seconds. "Report!"

"Emission levels from the wormhole have surged by a factor of twenty within the last twenty seconds," Commander Williams informed him as he stood to relinquish the command chair. "The diameter of the hole hasn't yet followed suit, though it is possible that there may simply be a delay time involved. We are currently at a safe distance for a proportional size increase, though it is remotely possible that the wormhole could expand to a size sufficient to engulf us."

"Understood," Townsend responded as he settled back into his chair. So much for that nap, he mused inwardly. "Have we received any advisories from the Los Alamos?"

Lieutenant Commander Gregory Wallace, the Prometheus' Science Officer, responded in the negative. "Nothing yet, sir."

The captain gazed at the viewscreen, the wormhole visible as a circular, swirling luminescence hanging in the blackness of space several dozen kilometers in front of the ship. "Any signs of expansion?"

"Not at present, Captain," Wallace again responded. "Emissions have increased by another ten percent in the past minute; however, the diameter of the anomaly has remained steady at four-seven-point-two meters."

"Very well," the captain replied. "Keep a close eye on those readings, Mr. Wallace...I don't intend to be caught by surprise if that thing decides to open wide on us."

"Aye, Captain." Wallace continued to watch his console intently, ignoring the viewscreen entirely. Townsend had a substantial amount of faith in his SO's ability to perform in tense situations; the two had served together twice in the past, and during both tours Townsend had been quite impressed with Wallace's aptitude in the scientific field – impressed enough that when he was assigned to command Prometheus, Captain Townsend had specifically requested for the then-Lieutenant Wallace to fill the position of ship's Science Officer, a spot usually reserved for much more senior officers. Within a year of assuming his duties, Wallace had garnered quite a bit of respect among the ship's command staff, and had been granted a spot promotion to his present rank.

"Sir, sensors have detected a very slight enlargement in the wormhole's diameter of approximately zero-point-three , zero-point-seven–"He paused for a moment, giving the sensor data a second to update instead of rattling off a constant stream of numbers. "Captain, the wormhole's diameter is increasing at a rate of approximately one-point-one meters per second and accelerating. I recommend moving the ship to a safe dist–"

On the viewscreen, the wormhole visibly swelled, rapidly expanding from a small fraction of the screen's width to nearly a third within the space of a few seconds. Captain Townsend wasted no time in issuing orders.

"Red alert! All back, one-half impulse! Full power to forward shields; all hands standby for shock!"

The wormhole's circular opening filled nearly three-quarters of the viewscreen now, and was showing no signs of slowing its explosive growth; if anything, it seemed to be expanding even more rapidly by the second. Wallace continued to monitor the sensor readings even as he braced for shock against his console. "Sir, the wormhole's diameter is now seven hundred thirty-five meters in diameter and expanding at a rate of approximately five-point-five kilometers per minute and still accelerating!"

"Bring us about! Standby for Warp One on my mark!" Captain Townsend gripped the arms of his chair as the Prometheus began to turn, preparing to make a run for it before his ship was swallowed whole by the anomaly. Come on, turn, damn you!

"Los Alamos has gone to warp, Captain! Wormhole diameter is six-point-zero-two kilometers...one-zero-point-two-thr–"

With a muted roar, the outer edge of the wormhole's periphery overtook the Prometheus, rocking the starship violently and sending several of the bridge crew sprawling. The viewscreen went blank, and the bridge's red lights began to flicker as the powerful emissions from the wormhole caused fluctuations in the ship's energy systems. Showers of sparks from failed power conduits rained from overhead as the violent shuddering continued. Townsend somehow managed to remain in his chair as his ship was plunged into utter chaos.

"Full power to shields!" he ordered. "Tomas, coordinate with Wallace and plot us a course out of here, full impulse!"

"Aye, sir!" Ensign Christopher Tomas acknowledged the order from the helm, a fraction of a second faster than Wallace. "Commander, just give me a hole to aim for and I'll fly her through!"

Wallace failed to respond, as he was concentrating all of his attention on the sensor readouts in front of him. The ship continued to quake violently around them, but someone had ramped up the inertial dampers to try and reduce the effect. Nearly a minute passed before Wallace finally looked up from his console. "Helm, set new course, two-one-five, mark one-nine!"

"Two-one-five mark one-nine, aye!" Tomas deftly input the course into the helm, and engaged the impulse engines. The hum of the impulse engines mixed with the constant rumbling and creaking of the battered starship as it began to move once again. "Impulse engines answering ahead full as ordered, Captain!"

"Very well, Ensign Tomas. Distance to exit point, Commander Wallace?"

"It's difficult to tell with the sensor interference, Captain, but I'd estimate approximately two-point-three million kilometers, plus or minus a few hundred thousand." He glared at the console, unable to coax a better estimate out of it. "Approximately thirty seconds to exit point, assuming that the sensors are in fact working correctly."

"Thirty seconds...very well, Commander. Helm, maintain course and speed."

"Aye, sir."

The Prometheus pushed onward, sliding through the chaotic spatial distortions at her maximum safe sub-light speed, her crew enduring the bumpy ride as they closed in on what was hopefully the way out. And, almost exactly thirty seconds later, the ship emerged from the anomaly into the emptiness of space, stars once again visible as the viewscreen once again blinked back to life. Captain Townsend let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "All stop. Damage report?"

"Minor casualties throughout the ship, sir," Commander Williams reported. "Mostly bumps and bruises from the initial shock; Engineering is reporting moderate instabilities from the port-ventral and both starboard nacelles; Commander Heisenberg is recommending that we do not engage the warp drive until he can complete at least a Level Two diagnostic."

"Very well, Commander. In the meantime, let's get our bearings back. Commander Wallace, what is the status of the wormhole?"

Wallace, staring at his console, did not respond for a few seconds. The captain was about to prompt him again when he looked up.

"It's gone, sir. The opening appears to have collapsed moments after our exit. Detectable emission levels in the area are approximately normal background, nothing more."

Townsend let out a heavy sigh. This was not welcome news. "Computer, stand down from Red Alert. Commander, can you determine our current location?"

The SO let out a frustrated sigh of his own. "The computer's working on it, Captain, but something seems to be wrong here. I'm trying to compare what we can see out there with our stellar charts, and...well, nothing matches, so far as I can tell. One thing's for sure..." He paused for a moment. "...we're definitely not in Sol anymore. Or, in all likelihood, anywhere within a thousand light-years of it; I can't find Earth on short-range or long-range sensors."

Great, the captain thought. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no clue where we are and, possibly, without warp drive. Just great. "Any communications from the Los Alamos?"

"No, sir; in addition, they're not answering our hails. Matter of fact, nobody is; it's as if the entire subspace network is down."

"Or maybe we're out of range, somehow...have you detected anything else in the area?"

Wallace tapped a few commands into the console. "Computer's still working on it, sir...well, well."

Captain Townsend cocked an eyebrow at the remark. "What did you find?"

"Something very interesting, Captain. There's a Class G2 star at approximately twenty-nine billion kilometers from our current position at bearing one-zero-five mark seven, not much different from Sol...but that's not all. There's also an M-class planet at bearing one-three-nine mark three, distance twenty-point-two-three billion kilometers. Initial scan indicates that the planet may be inhabited, but it is difficult to tell at the moment; something still seems to be interfering with the sensor readings."

"Keep trying, Commander. In the meantime, given the absence of our previous research subject, we're going to have to alter our mission somewhat. Our first priority, obviously, is to find out where we are. I'm going to assume, based on available astrometrics data and Mr. Wallace's expertise, that we are no longer in Federation space, and given the uncertain nature of wormholes, possibly no longer in the Alpha Quadrant itself. In addition, we shall continue efforts to re-establish contact with the Federation using any means possible.

"Our second priority is to continue the ship's mission; this will involve searching for clues that might give the Federation insight into the formation of the wormhole. Unfortunately, that might be a bit difficult to accomplish due to its unexpected disappearance. However, we will continue to thoroughly analyze the data we have already collected in hope of turning up something useful.

"Lastly, but most certainly not least, is to carry out one of Starfleet's oldest and most enduring principles: 'To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life, and new civilizations..."

He turned to gaze at each of the bridge crew, to emphasize his point, before finishing the quote.

"To boldly go where no one has gone before."

At that, he turned to face the viewscreen, gazing at the starfield in front of him. "Lay in a course for the planet, Mr. Tomas, full impulse."

A moment passed. "Course laid in, sir."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Captain Townsend symbolically pointed at the screen and issued the now-famous command:

"Engage."

----

Author's notes: Aiee...I thought this would never be finished. Well, I'm hoping that this goes over well with y'all; I've never tried my hand at anything Trek-based before, so I hope I've done a reasonably good job. Yeah, I used a lot of technobabble, but hey, that's the nature of the series. For you die-hard Trekkies out there: yes, I know the Prometheus is acting somewhat out-of-role as a research vessel, but sometimes you just have to use what you have readily available. Next up: something a little more down-to-Earth...literally. See you in New York!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, or the USS Prometheus. Pretty much everything else (specifically, the Prometheus' officers and crew, and the USS Los Alamos) was my own creation, and as such is © 2004 me. Or something like that.

Addendum: Visit the official Guardians of the Balance website (linked from my profile page) for background info, extras, and insight into the creation of this series!