It all happened in a matter of seconds. The federation Type 8 shuttlecraft was eaten by a wormhole that sprung into existence from the darkness of space. It was not intentional to fly towards a location of a known wormhole or wormhole active area of space so when it did occur, T'Rara was puzzled by the situation presented to her. To her, it shouldn't have happened, her course was plotted to avoid wormholes, black holes, locations known to be actively hostile, and any recent locations reported to have large space-faring creatures. It should have been a easy trip to her destination and back. The officer checked her on board readings for any explanation of what had occurred or to at least study this wormhole but surprisingly she found that her power had been drained from her consoles and that even life support was offline.
"I have not perished."
This was indeed a surprise. No life support usually meant.. No life.
She looked out from her shuttle's window. It was darkness. No stars. No life. Nothing. She was stuck now in a conundrum. Nothing to be done she went back to her chair and sat, giving a few pointless presses against the console that resulted in nothing. The Vulcan sighed, staring at the void outside of the shuttle, regret coming over her. She was not one to go on these missions from the mission board in the Intelligence office back on the station but a increasing desire to get away from the station and/or the people who visited the station was nagging at her thoughts. This seemed like a safe way to get away and come back without any danger, a simply mission to go and talk with someone to gather data which could have been done over subspace but it was believed that better intel would of been gathered from a face to face conversation. But now it seemed she would be late for her arranged meeting.
Something else was bothering her as well. There was a mixture of scents that had taken over the shuttle since she had entered the wormhole. It was hard to tell at first what the scent was because of her unfamiliarity with them but it was starting to come to her. Something was burning or recently burnt and something was bleeding. The second one didn't make any sense because as she learned from looking over herself there were no injuries upon her and she was quite certain she was the only person on the shuttle. The first scent though was a possibility and so she looked around the vessel for any sign of fire. Opening panels, checking compartments, everywhere she looked she could not find anything burning or something having been burned. But through her investigation she did come across the rations packs..
.. She sat back down in her chair and opened up the pack. What she ate was much better than the rations of old on Earth during war times. But it still didn't beat whatever she could have pulled out from a working replicator. Eating gave her time to think upon her situation some more. What shouldn't be is happening but, she thought, that probably meant it wasn't happening. But, she thought again, if it was happening which it is then she probably just believes it to be happening which means it wasn't really.. Happening. How does she return what shouldn't be happening to normality? She looked over at the exit from the shuttlecraft. Surely exposing herself to what was out there was something that would ideally.. End her life. But as she knew already she should be dead now. It was an option.
Her thoughts then went to what it was she was doing before the wormhole appeared and gobbled the shuttle up. The Klingon opera music she was listening to was not set to a volume so loud that she would not be able to notice any warnings about strange abnormalities showing up in the sector around her from her sensors. Nothing had appeared on her sensors that would have warned her about the wormhole or anything else out there. Everything was normal. Except that.. Her music had gone off seconds before she went into the wormhole compared to the rest of her ship power being drained when she was within the wormhole. Also now that she has had time to think upon it.. Those previously unexplained scents was first noticed around the same time..
"Perhaps we have been taken on board a vessel who first appears like a wormhole." Keelah pondered out loud compared to T'Rara who had been thinking quietly this entire time.
"It is a possibility.." T'Rara would reply to the Captain and looked upon her curiously for a moment. That's right.. The two of them were given the simple task of testing out the new modifications to this runabout.
She looked back at the interior of the runabout. It was quite spacious, having a room in the back for sleeping, very well made for long voyages when it was just a handful, or in this case, two officers. She looked back to Keelah. The two were dating and had been together for a few years now. Both were Vulcan though somewhat different from one another. Still they loved each other and T'Rara had been quite happy the whole time they were together. They even had a daughter together though she was back on the station with their dog, Sam, and under the care of her mother, Subcommander Ael, during their absence. It was a perfect family. The two spoke a bit about their family and how T'Pia had been doing in her studies and that Sam was caught once again chewing one of T'Rara's shoes. That it was amazing still how her mother, a Vulcan, had managed to become a Subcommander in the Romulan Republic. It was a pleasant perfect way to pass the time.. Except for the constant smell that followed her around these last couple of years.. And lately the scent had become stronger especially now in this situation with her wife.. Girlfriend? Something.. She brought a hand to her forehead to indicate a sudden pain in her head. When she brought her hand back for a moment it was covered in Vulcan blood. It frightened her and she looked over to where Keelah had been sitting for a explanation from her but. No one was there..
No one was there in the Type 15 shuttlepod with her. Nothing was there even in her thoughts. It was blank, she couldn't remember names or faces or herself even. Looking around, she was in a small spaceship of some sort. It was cold and the lights were dimming, growing closer to darkness like the void that was outside. She shivered with both fright and because of the cold. She wanted explanations as to why she was here, who she was, who anyone was. It was lonely when she felt like she should be surrounded by faces she knew and/or at least thousands of faces of people she didn't know but lived and worked around. "I can't stay here.." She mumbled to herself and got out of her chair. Going over to the door of the shuttlecraft she tried opening it and found great resistance. But working through the struggle she managed to finally force the door open to see.. Darkness. No stars, no logic to how she was here, no power to the shuttle would be moving the ship through whatever this was. "Hello??" She called out into nothingness and nothing replied back. She stared longer into the void, longing for something, fearing what would happen should she leave the airlock from the station.
It was a small room between the two doors that divided this room from the station and open space. She remembered now.. There had been a battle on the station and to avoid capture or death from the hands of the invading superior forces she had hid herself here, knowing that the station's internal sensors were offline so she would not be discovered, and hoping somehow that rescue would come. She had become trapped though as outside of the room back into the station there had been massive destruction that made it impossible to turn back without dying. But now only a force field that barely had power remained up between herself and open space. The stars were unnaturally absent as she looked out there and a hand came up to fill the force field, knowing its power was slowly fading away. Everyone she knew on the station was either dead or captured, their fate perhaps darker than what would come when the force field finally gave out. She was a popular musician on the station who's performances in Klingon operas were highly praised even by Klingons themselves. She feared her partner, Mischa, had died in the attack on the station and now estimated only ten minutes remaining and accepted that there was nothing left to do but accept fate as it were to be and soon join Mischa in afterlife. She found herself messy and smelling. She was indeed injured and bleeding. Her clothes and most of the station have caught fire from the destruction around them though she was able to put out the fire that had made it to her own clothing. Now she was stuck with the smell of burnt clothes and her own blood during the last few minutes of her life.
She sat down in the center of the small space she had and waited, time did not feel to move faster or slow down. Ten minutes passed by and all that time she was staring at the opened airlock and when time expired, the force field flutter off. And in that moment although she felt a sudden pain..
She did not die. She was not sucked out into open space like it was suppose to happen. T'Rara stood up from her couch and walked forward and looked out into the void. Then she took a step forward into it and found that her foot made contact with something solid. She took another step from the quarters of her room through the door that she had opened minutes earlier to her surprise of finding not the hallway of the living quarters on the station but a black void and then looked back to see her quarters, gone. The shuttlecrafts were no more. The runabout with Keelah, no more. The station's airlock was gone as well. It was just darkness that somehow had a surface that her feet met because she was not falling or floating. One thing that felt familiar was the lack of knowledge though it wasn't like it had been on the Type 15 Shuttlepod, this was more of a decay of knowledge. She had knowledge about people and who she was and the situation she was in but.. They felt like they were slipping away. She tried to remember things from her past or people but they wouldn't reach the surface. Nothing did except her own name and she clung onto that and slowly moved forward. Each step met surface and each step had to have had her moving from where she begun but it never felt like she got anywhere. Even sprinting forward and then slowly to a stop had her feeling like she got nowhere. She caught her breath and mumbled to herself, she felt it too was leaving her..
"I am T'Rara of Vulcan. Lieutenant Commander in the Federation."
"I am T'Rara of Vulcan. Lieutenant Commander in.. In the Federation.."
"I am T'Rara of Vulcan. L-Lieutenant.."
"T'Rara.."
"..."
There within a endless darkness there was a void of knowledge and thought within the Vulcan. She was laying and something was crawling down her forehead and slowly down the right side of her nose. It made her reach up for her face to touch what it was and when her hand made contact with her face it startled her. For she could not see her hand. She could not see anything. So it was futile when she brought her hand in front of her eyes to see what it was that had been moving down her face and now was still moving further, making its trek across her lips. She got to the point where she was unaware of whether her eyes were even open or remained closed because there was no difference between either. She could not see. Time was now unable to be kept track of. A minute could have been a hour and a hour could have been days or even a day could have only been a minute. Fear first was all that she felt, to be an unknown in the unknown was a terrifying experience. But without knowledge of who she was or what anything is she accepted this as her existence, perhaps she was just born into this life. If she could not see anything or go anywhere maybe she was the darkness itself. She found peace with this. Slumber and consciousness were indeterminate after what she believed to be days had gone by. She would dream of a woman with short black hair wearing a official uniform of some sort going about what seemed to be her usual day. But then when she woke it was all she had to think about so thoughts and dreams soon simply felt like one. Other dreams too came to her of other things and the dreams became her memories, filling the empty mind that was there before. But no names came from those dreams or thoughts or memories and the face she did see were slightly censored from full viewing, even her own face was lacking.
Being in a void or being the void itself. It gave her a blank canvas for her dreams or memories to spring to life in. Often times she dreamed or thought of that woman who often appeared and though she never learned her name she felt like the world her dreams created centered around her. There were also familiar Humanoids like the woman in there that were a constant presence and although she never got their names either she felt like they were an importance to this woman. There was also one other thing that always seemed to bring her back to the void. A blinding light pulled her from those dreams or memories and gave her a bit of a headache. Always leaving her with an undesirable memory of a scent or scents after it pulled her back. But it didn't make it to where she didn't want to have those dreams again. So she continued on like this without any knowledge of time..
((Thank you for reading!~))
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U.S.S. Nanietta Bacco
Captain Mishke Foraker stood on the command deck of her CIC, reading a Padd that was laid down on her command table as several other of her senior officers stood at their stations. Lt Commander Karro, the C.A.G. of the Bacco, turned around from his display.
"Captain, Viper Squadron is ready to deploy upon exiting from Warp."
"Good, once they are in the air, I want Cobra and Red squadrons standing by in the launch bays while Viper flies CAP." The tall Orion captain had been in command of the Bacco since the end of the Undine conflict, after the loss of her beloved Warlock during the attack on Earth. Since her days commanding the Warlock in battle with the Klingons, the Bacco has been in conflicts with the Vaadwaur, the Iconians, and more recently the Tzenkethi. As the Bacco dropped out of warp, she listened as her command staff carried out their duties like they had countless of times before. The Bacco's first fighter wing was deployed in groups of two and began securing the area.
Out of habit, Foraker began slightly fidget with her padd, until she felt the soft cooing of the tribble on her desk. She reached over and picked him up to help silent him to not disrupt the rest of her CIC crew. While it seemed that Foraker was comforting the tribble, it was really the other way around. Rising to command on the eve of the Klingon war, and twelve years of almost non-stop warfare had taken its toll on the Orion. She almost felt lost in her thoughts until a Padd was dropped off in front of her.
"Captain, the bridge is reporting something on sensors."
"On display." Foraker set the tribble down as she focused on the table's holodisplay, seeing the small silhouette of a small craft. "Ops, have Viper Three and Five move to intercept, I want Red squadron in the launch tubes."
Commander Ryan, her long serving first officer looked to her from across the table. "Captain, should we move to Yellow Alert?"
Foraker shook her head "Not yet old friend, let's see what it is, Ops, put the pilot chatter on speaker."
"Old Nan, this is Viper Three, we are approaching the coordinates. Not seeing anything hostile yet.
"So, Hammer, is it true that you drank so mu--"
"This is Bacco Actual, Viper Five, if you want to spend the night scrubbing your plane with a troothbrush, feel free to finish that thought." Foraker had a slight smile on her lips as she shut down the chatter. While she allowed harmless chatter time to time, the pilots knew not to push the limits too much... most of the time anyway.
"Hammer to Bacco Actual, we have visual contact, it's one of our own shuttles, looks pretty beat up."
Foraker looked over her shoulder "Ops, I want a Yellowstone in the air to tow that shuttle back in, can we also get a transporter lock on who ever is in it?" She then shot a glance to her first officer. "Now we can go to Yellow alert."
Ryan tapped his comm "All hands, this is the XO, Yellow Alert, stand by actions stations."
The Ops officer shook his head at the Captain "I wouldn't advise it Captain, whoever is onboard is most likely to be injured, and we don't know if we could make that injury worst by beaming them out."
"Understood, get a medical team down to the hanger deck, I'll join them as well, Commander Ryan, you have the CIC." Foraker walked off and started making her way down to the main hanger deck.
By the time she arrived, the Yellowstone had already bought the beaten up shuttle craft back. A team of engineers and medics made their way into the shuttle. When Foraker arrived at the shuttle, she was able to see an unconscious young looking Vulcan dressed in a Starfleet Intelligence uniform being removed from her chair, the inside of the shuttle had taken a beating as well with an exploded console right next to where the Vulcan was sitting. "Doctor, do we know who this is?"
"Not yet Captain, but right now we need to get her down to medical ASAP." The doctor reached up and tapped her comm badge. "Doctor Henke to Transporter room, I need an emergency medical transport to sickbay now."
Foraker watched as the Vulcan was taken in the transporter beam, she looked around the damaged shuttle once more before she started her return to the CIC with more questions then she had before, making a note to find out who the Vulcan is, what damaged her shuttle, and if there was a greater threat to her own ship.
Captain Mishke Foraker stood on the command deck of her CIC, reading a Padd that was laid down on her command table as several other of her senior officers stood at their stations. Lt Commander Karro, the C.A.G. of the Bacco, turned around from his display.
"Captain, Viper Squadron is ready to deploy upon exiting from Warp."
"Good, once they are in the air, I want Cobra and Red squadrons standing by in the launch bays while Viper flies CAP." The tall Orion captain had been in command of the Bacco since the end of the Undine conflict, after the loss of her beloved Warlock during the attack on Earth. Since her days commanding the Warlock in battle with the Klingons, the Bacco has been in conflicts with the Vaadwaur, the Iconians, and more recently the Tzenkethi. As the Bacco dropped out of warp, she listened as her command staff carried out their duties like they had countless of times before. The Bacco's first fighter wing was deployed in groups of two and began securing the area.
Out of habit, Foraker began slightly fidget with her padd, until she felt the soft cooing of the tribble on her desk. She reached over and picked him up to help silent him to not disrupt the rest of her CIC crew. While it seemed that Foraker was comforting the tribble, it was really the other way around. Rising to command on the eve of the Klingon war, and twelve years of almost non-stop warfare had taken its toll on the Orion. She almost felt lost in her thoughts until a Padd was dropped off in front of her.
"Captain, the bridge is reporting something on sensors."
"On display." Foraker set the tribble down as she focused on the table's holodisplay, seeing the small silhouette of a small craft. "Ops, have Viper Three and Five move to intercept, I want Red squadron in the launch tubes."
Commander Ryan, her long serving first officer looked to her from across the table. "Captain, should we move to Yellow Alert?"
Foraker shook her head "Not yet old friend, let's see what it is, Ops, put the pilot chatter on speaker."
"Old Nan, this is Viper Three, we are approaching the coordinates. Not seeing anything hostile yet.
"So, Hammer, is it true that you drank so mu--"
"This is Bacco Actual, Viper Five, if you want to spend the night scrubbing your plane with a troothbrush, feel free to finish that thought." Foraker had a slight smile on her lips as she shut down the chatter. While she allowed harmless chatter time to time, the pilots knew not to push the limits too much... most of the time anyway.
"Hammer to Bacco Actual, we have visual contact, it's one of our own shuttles, looks pretty beat up."
Foraker looked over her shoulder "Ops, I want a Yellowstone in the air to tow that shuttle back in, can we also get a transporter lock on who ever is in it?" She then shot a glance to her first officer. "Now we can go to Yellow alert."
Ryan tapped his comm "All hands, this is the XO, Yellow Alert, stand by actions stations."
The Ops officer shook his head at the Captain "I wouldn't advise it Captain, whoever is onboard is most likely to be injured, and we don't know if we could make that injury worst by beaming them out."
"Understood, get a medical team down to the hanger deck, I'll join them as well, Commander Ryan, you have the CIC." Foraker walked off and started making her way down to the main hanger deck.
By the time she arrived, the Yellowstone had already bought the beaten up shuttle craft back. A team of engineers and medics made their way into the shuttle. When Foraker arrived at the shuttle, she was able to see an unconscious young looking Vulcan dressed in a Starfleet Intelligence uniform being removed from her chair, the inside of the shuttle had taken a beating as well with an exploded console right next to where the Vulcan was sitting. "Doctor, do we know who this is?"
"Not yet Captain, but right now we need to get her down to medical ASAP." The doctor reached up and tapped her comm badge. "Doctor Henke to Transporter room, I need an emergency medical transport to sickbay now."
Foraker watched as the Vulcan was taken in the transporter beam, she looked around the damaged shuttle once more before she started her return to the CIC with more questions then she had before, making a note to find out who the Vulcan is, what damaged her shuttle, and if there was a greater threat to her own ship.
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