"Captain Kirk is correct, Nyota. There is no logical evidence to prove the existence of this parasitic life-form." Spock said, placing his PADD on the nearby table as they entered his apartment.

"I know." Nyota sighed, flopping down on the couch. She chewed a hangnail on the side of her finger and stared into the distance, lost in thought for a moment. "It just seems so spooky though, don't you think?"

"Spooky?"

Spock faced her, confused. It made her smile, but her concern returned to her.

"It's a perfectly good outpost; perfectly built, perfectly useable, but one-hundred and twenty years ago it's just suddenly abandoned and no one knows why? Out of the blue, it's dropped and no one goes near it ever again." She explained. "You have to believe one of the theories about it, right?"

"Indeed, it is logical to listen to all avenues of thought regarding the abandonment of the outpost, but then reach the most likely conclusion based on the highest probability of fact. Not the 'spookiest' theory."

Nyota sighed again, pressing her lips together. Spock sat beside her on the couch.

"I believe that the outpost was not just abandoned over night, it is highly likely a fault or other circumstance of the time resulted in the area being no longer useable. There are multiple situations that early Starfleet may have faced that would result in the closure of an outpost, and this could fit any number of them. It's our duty to go and see exactly which one fits."

Nyota cuddled into him, trying to relax. He put his arm around her in the manner to which he had become accustomed to when 'couch cuddling'.

"Well, call it human intuition, I just can't shake a strange feeling about this exploration."

xxxx

'This is a distress signal fr-… USS Enlightn..ent… damaged… repair… mul… tiple fatalities… Auxiliary pow-…failing. Life… failing. Last kno-… 6.539… help…'

Khan had worked for hours, missed a whole day at the base, but he was intrigued. This was as clear as he could get the message to be, piecing together the broken bands of the radio waves.

"Khan, what is your location?"

An incoming voice call activated on the PADD beside him. He picked it up off the table, thinking quickly, not ready to confront Admiral Marcus and not wanting to share any details about this strange message. He opened the call.

"I am in my apartment, Sir."

"Why?" Marcus sat back in his chair, piercing eyes peering as if to try and see the answer somewhere behind him in his house.

"I got caught up with some reports at home." Khan replied, casually. Marcus watched him a moment longer.

"I want the structure analysis for the prototype warheads by tomorrow on my desk, first thing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Khan replied through gritted teeth, all to happy to end the call and return to the distress signal.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, staring at the screen, thinking.

Source Tracker.

His mind raced again. Quickly he entered all the programming he knew to trace the source of a message, altering it here and there to compensate for the lack of information in the signal. Soon, he had targeted the end coordinates along with a range of starting numbers and entered a basic response signal.

Query 401: Distress Signal Received: Response Code 885.

With all long range transmissions set to the furthest capacity Khan's computer could handle, he sent the response. Sitting back, he looked up from his desk and out of the windows. The sun was setting on the horizon, bathing London in a rose gold blanket. He could only hope his efforts would pay off.

xxxx

Nyota was angry. And scared, and cold. Tears frequently fell down her cheeks, involuntarily. She was afraid of dying here alone, devastated by the loss around her and of her beloved Spock, and angry that she was so helpless.

Pacing the room, she exhaled sharply, growling to herself. She shut her eyes and slowly inhaled, forcing herself to focus.

"Stop it. Now listen to me." She told herself sternly. "This is where you are. This is what's happened. You are not useless. You have to do something, try something, anything!" She took a few more breaths, opened her eyes and wiped her face.

Looking around she ignored the bodies and the cold. "Besides, how much more damage could you possibly do?" She whispered.

Engine room, she thought, if she could get to the engine room, maybe she could access a computer to try and divert whatever power was left to life support and communication systems. That way, any power that was leaking from broken consoles, rooms and lights would be put into giving her a fighting chance at survival.

As she made her way toward the door, a strangled beep alerted from the communications comm. Forgetting all plans, she dashed over to it. A signal. She tried to load it on the screen above the console, but the power in the comm was distorted, parts of the screen were cracked and blacked out, she could not make it out. She bit her lip, and quickly returned to her original plan.

Running off the bridge, she made her way via staircases to the engine room. The ships access computer had its own small supply of power, and was the only computer on the ship unharmed. She thumped it with her fist, cursing it for not being interconnected to Starfleets network. Accessing the power grid, she was able to lift the panel and divert all remaining auxiliary power to a few rooms on the top floor of the ship. It meant running back up to the bridge in the dark, and that the oxygen to other levels would begin to thin out, but if it meant power to the communications system, to a way out, she had to do it.

Activating the personal light source on her space suit, she took a breath, entered the code and flipped the switch to divert the ships auxiliary power. Enlightenment hummed, before stuttering slightly, and plunging her into darkness. Nyota turned her back and leaned on the comm, eyes adjusting, the hum of energy a lower sound than before. Feeling a pulse of fear jolt her spine, she made her way quickly back to the bridge, dodging bodies and debris, being mindful of her footfalls.

On the bridge, the communications comm glowed a dull light. Two out of the six screens were working and nearly all of her buttons and switched gave off dull light. It wasn't much, but it was powered. She called up the signal and there it was, a shining beacon of hope, a distress query.

Nyota smiled, tears of relief fell down her cheeks. Wiping her face she got straight to work, wasting no time in responding directly to the message while she still could.

xxxx

"Our main story this morning: The crew of the USS Enlightenment have been reported as lost. The roaming explorer set out on a mission last month to the outer Laurentian system to uncover the mystery of the abandoned outpost on planet Karora."

Khan had been barely listening to the view screen in his kitchen, but this article caught his attention. He stirred his coffee continuously, eyes glued to the screen and the reporter. He hardly slept last night, his mind too focused on the broken distress signal.

"Communication was lost with the explorer a week ago. Last known coordinates place the ship within the outer confines of the system, but communicated contact and search ships have been unsuccessful in locating the craft."

Khan stared. A week was a long time for a person to survive on a devastated ship. Assuming the distress signal had come from the USS Enlightenment, whats to say it hadn't been an echo? A transmission so warped that in the time it took to reach Earth, its last remaining crew members had perished? He sighed, all his efforts of the previous day may yet have been wasted. Switching off the screen, he walked into his bedroom to prepare for another begrudging day of being under the Admiral's thumb.