Chapter Text
The bridge was quiet, the soft murmur of conversation barely loud enough to disturb the peace that so rarely graced the ship. Swaths of empty space swallowed Corvan II as the Enterprise swept away from her latest mission, the ease and routine of it a welcome reprieve from the chaos that normally followed them. Captain James T. Kirk leaned back in his chair, PADD propped up on his crossed legs and he glanced over the report one last time. He’d almost had it done before they even left orbit, but somehow having less things to include made him more certain he’d forgotten something.
Finding nothing amiss, he sent it off and leaned back, letting his eyes drift to the viewport. Stars and void stretched out before them. Kirk was struck by the notion that, this close to the edge of Federation Space, many of those distant systems were unexplored, unnamed, or entirely unknown. Focusing on the tiniest pinpricks, it was remarkable to think how little a layman would be able to tell the foreign stars from those on the other side of the Federation.
Kirk’s fingers tapped lightly against the arm of the Captain’s chair, barely touching the surface so as not to disturb the calm. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, and he was certain the crew preferred to relax rather than recover after a mission, but relaxation had become so novel to him that it instead felt unproductive. His fingers itched for something to hold, his mind itching for something to do, so he picked up his tricorder. Their next mission was two quadrants away, promising to be equally as quiet as this had been, but at the very least starting the log would allow him to do something .
“Captain’s log,” he spoke quietly into the tricorder. “Stardate 4372.4. We have successfully delivered the cargo to Corvan II and are en route to the Sigma quadrant. If no change is made to the current trajectory-”
“Captain!” Uhura’s voice cut sharply across the bridge. “We’re getting a distress signal.”
He cursed under his breath before realizing the tricorder was still on. Despite his recent thoughts about the quiet, this was far from the way he wanted that quiet to end.
“Location?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter and glancing from the still empty viewport to the Lieutenant.
“Just outside Federation space.” She frowned, brow furrowing in concentration. “It isn’t a language I recognize, Captain.”
“Your specialty is linguistics, isn’t it?” He stood and approached her station, peering at her screens as though it would help either of them make sense of it.
The look she fixed him with was brief but cold. “It is, Captain,” she said flatly. “However, that does not change that this is not a language I recognize.” She adjusted a few things across the module, the frown growing deeper. “...and our translator does not recognize it either.”
That sent a jolt across the bridge. Though the language’s across the Federation were so widely varied that few could keep track, the translator held every language known. At least, every language that had been known in the history of the Federation and its planets. To come across something that the translator couldn’t even recognize, much less translate, was…
Uhura flicked the incoming message from her earpiece to the speaker and suddenly the unfamiliar voices were flooding the bridge. The words were quick and short, the voice feminine. Other voices faded in and out, low growls and high chirps punctuating the frantic message. It cut out with a fizz of static, leaving a moment of dead air before it began again.
Kirk glanced around the bridge only to find the same confused, unsettled look he was trying not to show. Even Spock’s eyebrows were furrowed a little further than usual, meeting the Captain’s eyes for a brief second before looking back to the speaker as though he could look through it to the source of the voice.
“Is there any chance of getting something from this?” He gestured vaguely, but she seemed to understand.
“Perhaps. The translator is made to take in new languages but…it might not be quick. And I’m not sure how long this distress signal has been going before we picked it up.”
The message had not stopped, the words more distinct with every loop, though no less indecipherable. Despite not knowing what the words meant, there was one thing that was clear in the broadcast. Those quickly spoken words, the voices in the background, every bit of it dripped with fear. A dread so strong it was palpable in the air around them, yanking Kirk’s stomach into his throat in a way he couldn’t explain.
“Do you have the coordinates?” he said after a moment.
Uhura started a little, seeming as lost in the voices as he had been, but her eyes lit with understanding when they met his. “Yes, sir.”
“Send them to navigation.” He shook his head a little and turned back toward the rest of the bridge. “You can take the signal off the speakers as well. Helmsman, chart a new course for the distress signal.”
As he approached the Captain’s chair once again, he became suddenly aware of a presence over his shoulder. He was unsurprised to see Spock there, the slightest downturn of his lips betraying his thoughts in a way few would notice. Kirk had a good idea what he would say, sighing internally.
“Captain, I believe we should contact Starfleet before exiting Federation space.”
There it was. “A distress signal hardly leaves time for that,” he pointed out. “By the time we get a reply, it may be too late.”
“If there is truly trouble.” Spock’s expression remained neutral. “This is an unknown language and until the translator has finished its analysis we have no information about the situation. We cannot even be certain this is not a trap of some sort.”
“I don’t believe it is and I don’t think you do either.” He gestured toward the communications station. “You heard the same thing I did. Just because Vulcan’s are in control of their emotions doesn’t mean you can’t recognize them. We both know that.”
“...Be that as it may, we still have very little information to be taking this risk over.”
“I know someone is in danger,” Kirk said firmly. “That’s enough to at least try.”
Spock seemed to accept the Captain’s answer, though not without a pause that in a human would likely have been an audible sigh. “Very well, sir.”
The Vulcan’s caution grounded Kirk as he approached navigation, watching as they closed in on the coordinates. He would not ignore the call, but he could be careful.
“Slow down as we get closer.” His eyes flicked to the viewport, to the speck appearing just on the edge of view. “And be prepared to reverse thrusters if necessary.”
The tension entangling the crew grew ever tighter, the noise dying out of apprehension now rather than relaxation. The quiet static of the comms station and the occasional beep from navigation were almost deafening in the frozen room.
Slowly, the speck grew in the viewport. It looked to be a ship, at least that’s what Kirk would assume it was. It was smaller than in Enterprise , the main body long and narrow aside from a towering structure jutting up near the back. Two sets of slender spikes snaked into the space around it, tapered along with the front of the ship in a way that suggested the ship itself was as much a weapon as any plasma cannon. The bright red of its hull practically glowed against the dark backdrop of space, the color only broken by the white motif of a trident that was barely visible running along the underside.
Kirk had never seen anything like it.
Could they be dealing with more than a new language? A new society? A new species ?
The endless expanse of the universe held so much that had not been discovered, but for another space-faring species to have lasted this long without Federation contact was at the very least peculiar.
As the Enterprise drew to a halt, the silence remained across the bridge. Something in Kirk’s stomach twisted with an anxiety he couldn’t quite explain, watching the strange ship hang motionless. Despite his determination to help, the part of him that wanted to retreat into the familiarity of Federation space was growing in leaps and bounds.
“Captain?” Uhura’s voice once again caught his attention, although this time he did not look at her. “The translator has…made progress.”
“Let’s hear it.” Kirk’s eyes never left the ship, as though it might disappear if he so much as blinked.
The static crackled loud enough to jolt him before the voice was back, growls and chirps still weaving through the words that were suddenly comprehensible.
“Help!” Came the first, desperate word. “Our power is nearly depleted and we are being pursued.” The speech garbled a bit, the voice wobbling as half-audible arguments rose in the background.
“-never should have gone along with this-”
“-they’re going to catch us-”
“-hopeless-”
“-doomed-”
When the voice came back into clarity, the fear was just as palpable as it had always been.
“If they catch us She will kill us. Please.”