Emergency Hail
Posted on Mon May 26th, 2025 @ 9:02pm by Captain M'Raz & Ensign Cameron Reed & Lieutenant Commander Jason Reeves & Lieutenant Elias McEntyre & Lieutenant Micheal Taggart & Lieutenant H'iri & Lieutenant Noah Clarke & Lieutenant Richard Pierce MD & Lieutenant Michael Harris
2,975 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Resistance is Necessary
Location: Uninhabited System Near Wolf
Timeline: MD002 - 1500
The Jane Addams had left the Wolf system behind as had the other captains. To Raz's mind, the notion of them all clustered together for anything longer than a conversation was just inviting trouble. "Mr. Taggart," Raz said, "find us an uninhabited system where we can get repairs started."
Micheal glanced back over his left shoulder at the Captain, and nodded. "Aye, Sir!" He then turned back to his console and did a quick search. "The closest system, without any known life..." he chuckled sharply, then turned back to face the Captain, "The Mutara System, where the Genesis Planet used to be. Over the decades since Genesis exploded, the Mutara Nebula has reformed. The system only contains the Nebula and a few dead moons."
"Looks like we're going to get to see a piece of Federation history," Reeves spoke up.
"Yes, we are," Raz said. "Let's run scans anyway. We can evaluate the system as a potential hiding spot. H'iri, include analysis for anything that would make us harder to find by sensor sweep."
"Aye, Sir. Running Passive Sensor Scans." Elias let his fingers glide across the tactical console, scanning the nearby region til a blip appeared on his screen.
"I have a single contact, bearing 120 mark 99, range at 15000 KM off starboard beam," he reported a moment later.
Popeye looked up from his console in Sickbay, the faint hum of diagnostic tools continuing in the background. The chatter over comms had caught his attention, particularly the words “Mutara System” and “Genesis Planet.” He let out a low whistle and muttered to no one in particular, “Well, that’s a hell of a choice for a pit stop.”
Tapping his combadge, he spoke calmly but with an undercurrent of concern. “Sickbay to Bridge. Just a friendly reminder that last time someone tried to make a paradise in the Mutara Sector, it blew up in their face—literally. I’ll keep the biobeds warm, just in case history decides to repeat itself.”
Then, more seriously, he added, “If we’ve got a contact that close, I’d recommend Red Alert protocols be standing by. Last thing we need while licking our wounds is an ambush in a haunted nebula.”
He paused, glanced over at a nearby nurse, then smirked faintly. “And someone tell Commander Reeves that history usually comes with side effects.”
Elias looks up from his console. “Our esteemed Doctor is correct. The Genesis sector and Mutara is highly unstable. We should exercise caution or go to Yellow Alert, Captain."
Raz suppressed the annoyance that surged through him. "Thank you for your input, Doctor, Bridge out. Go to yellow alert and scan that vessel."
As the ship went to yellow alert, H'iri's panel lit up with an emergency hail. "Captain, I am getting an emergency hail. The frequency is one used by the Federation. Should I accept it?"
"Yes," Raz answered as he rose to his feet. "This is Captain M'Raz of the USS Jane Addams answering your emergency hail. How can we help?"
The speakers came alive with a crackling, distorted voice. ”This is Lieutenant Clarke of the U.S.S. Archimedes. We've been attacked and have taken critical damage. Warp containment is failing and we have sustained massive casualties.” A rattling could be heard in the background, an obvious sign of things starting to fall apart. ”I'm not sure how much longer we can hold it together!” On the view screen, the Oberth-class vessel continued to list, adrift.
Lieutenant Clarke, standby for transport," Raz said. He turned to H'iri and ordered, "Have the transporter room beam the remaining crew aboard and have medical standing by to treat their injuries."
“We should also have security at the transporter room in case anyone on their crew was turned by the Borg,” Elias commented to the Captain and H’iri.
Reeves decided to enter the conversation. "I agree with the security precaution."
"Agreed," Raz said, "and do a thorough scan of them as well. If one of them turns out to be a problem, we'll have data and that might come in handy later. Security to the Transporter Room."
With that, H'iri acknowledged what Raz and Reeves said and gave the order to beam up the Archimedes crew immediately.
[Transporter Room]
The technician waited until security and medical arrived, his hand hovering over the controls. The Archimedes didn't have long and he didn't want to lose what was left of the crew.
Elias arrived first, a heavy intimidating presence in his armor, phaser at his side as he stood before the transporter pad, ready in case of hostiles.
"Awaiting medical, Chief" He commented to the Transporter Chief.
Popeye strode into the transporter room just ahead of his medical team, still pulling on his gloves as he walked. His eyes flicked to the technician, then to the shimmering form of the Oberth-class ship barely holding together on the monitor above the console. The tension in the room was palpable.
He glanced at the security detail taking position, then stepped to the side of the transporter pad, a medkit slung over one shoulder. “Alright, listen up,” he said, his voice firm but calm. “Triage protocol Alpha. We stabilize first, question later. Priority goes to anyone in respiratory distress or showing signs of radiation exposure.”
He looked to the transporter chief. “The moment you get a lock, bring them in. We’ll sort them out as fast as they materialize.”
Then, to the security team, he added with a glance, “If one of them starts twitching and trying to interface with the warp core, I’ll be the first to sedate them. You just make sure I don’t get assimilated first.”
"It'll be a shoot first kind of thing, Dr. Pierce." Elias commented somberly, hand on his phaser in it's holster on his hip.
He gave a brief nod to signal readiness. “Let’s get them out of there. We lose time, we lose lives.”
Nodding to them both, the technician activated the transporter controls and within moments, what remained of the Archimedes crew appeared on the pad. "Complete. Four souls."
Lt. Clarke gripped the sides of the master systems display table aboard the Archimedes as the ship shuddered in protest to the violation that was causing it to die. The console to his left abruptly exploded in a wave of sparks and debris, sending him to the deck with a hard tumble. Wincing in pain as blood began to trickle down his face, he willed himself to his feet, his eyes only able to watch the imminent collapse of any semblance of system stability. And then the familiar wash of sparkles enveloped him. The engineering bay vanished along with the horror. The world resolved into a Starfleet transporter room.
"Remain on the pad, You will be scanned by medical before being allowed to step down. Do not make any sudden moves or you will be considered hostile" Elias instructed to the four on the pad.
Popeye stepped forward as the faint shimmer of the transporter faded and the four survivors from the Archimedes solidified on the pad. His eyes moved quickly from one face to the next—not just assessing injuries, but looking for anything… off. Burns, blood, blank stares—none of it surprised him. What did surprise him was the silence. Survivors didn’t always scream. Sometimes the quiet ones were worse.
He tapped his tricorder and began scanning, his voice even but edged with the weariness of someone who had done this too many times before.
“Medical scanning initiated,” he said, mostly for protocol. Then, more softly—just loud enough for the four to hear—he added, “Don’t worry. Just a few seconds and we’ll get you the help you need.”
He glanced sideways at Elias but didn’t challenge the security officer’s tone. Necessary, given the Borg threat. Still, he let his own words serve as the human balance.
One of the survivors swayed slightly.
Popeye didn’t hesitate—he raised his hand calmly. “Stay still. I’ve got you. Just hold on a moment longer.” The tricorder chirped. He frowned at something on the readout and muttered, “That’s not good…”
He looked back at Elias. “One of them’s showing irregular neural activity—might be trauma… or it might be something else. Recommend isolation for this one until we’re sure.”
Then to the others, his tone just as firm as before: “You’ll all be seen by Medical immediately. But let’s do this the smart way, alright? No heroics. One step at a time.”
He didn’t holster his tricorder.
He didn’t stop watching them.
And he definitely didn’t relax.
Elias turns to the transporter chief. "Beam this one to the isolation ward, and erect a level ten forcefield."
Popeye gave a quick nod of approval at Elias’s order, his gaze snapping back to the crewman with the abnormal neural reading. “Good call,” he murmured, already tapping in additional data as the transporter chief rerouted the pattern buffer.
As the transporter hummed to life again, Popeye stepped slightly to the side, giving the forcefield enough room to establish clean containment once the crewman materialized in the isolation ward. “Route real-time biosign monitoring to Sickbay,” he added. “If there’s even a flicker of Borg nanoprobes, I want to catch it before it catches us.” The tricorder let out a soft ping. Popeye frowned again. “Still unclear—could be head trauma, could be cortical suppression. Hell, could be exhaustion. But I’m not taking bets.”
He turned back to the remaining three on the pad, eyes sharp beneath the exhaustion. “Okay, you three—status reads stable, but you’re not cleared until we run a full series. You’ll follow me directly to Sickbay. Security will escort. No detours.” His voice softened a degree as he looked them over one last time. “I know you’ve been through hell. You made it out. Now let us make sure you stay out.”
He gave Elias a nod—ready to move, but still watching, always watching.
Elias returned the nod to the doctor, just as tired and on edge as he seemed to be after all they've been though. "We've cleared a direct route to sickbay just in case." Elias said as he turned to the remaining three with stern eyes and sterner tone. "If you will follow the doctor to sickbay, and do not deviate from the route."
Cameron hazarded a glance at her Lieutenant and brushed away unshed tears with the back of her hand. Saved, she thought. Was I stupid in thinking that we were saved? Still she waited for their doctor to move, holding back the pain and the fear, holding back all of it, for a time when she could feel safe. Whenever that would be.
Lt. Clarke made eye contact with the other survivors and nodded silently to just do what their rescuers were directing them to do. There was a logical reason to have so many precautions in place, considering the circumstances forced upon them. It was prudent. "Thank you, doctor." As he made his way to the open door to the hallway, he glanced at the lieutenant in a golden uniform that seemed to be the head of the security detail. "I don't know if that Borg ship is still in the area. We all could still be in grave danger, notwithstanding the Archimedes warp core about to go critical..."
"Maybe someone could tell your captain," Cameron ventured.
H'iri, a pretty Caitian and the Chief Operations Officer, arrived on the scene. She looked at the survivors and said, "Please follow me. We have all been through the ringer with the Borg but we need this area for more survivors. Please, time is of the essence and I'm certain that Captain Raz will do what is necessary to save all of us."
Popeye gave a tight nod to both H'iri and Elias, but his focus never left the three in front of him—eyes scanning, mind already cataloging symptoms and stress responses that no tricorder could fully measure. “Let’s move,” he said quietly to the survivors. “One foot in front of the other. You made it this far. Just a little more.”
Clarke’s comment about the Archimedes and the Borg ship earned the slightest tilt of Popeye’s head—acknowledgment without breaking stride. “We’ll inform the bridge. Your priority now is survival. Ours is keeping it that way.”
As they stepped into the corridor, flanked by security, Popeye walked beside Cameron for a moment, catching the flicker of emotion she barely managed to hide. “You don’t have to hold it all in,” he said, not unkindly. “Not for me. Not for anyone. You just have to get through this.” He gestured slightly to a passing wall panel as they walked. “Sickbay’s not far. Full bio scans, decon, and then we’ll start figuring out who’s physically okay and who’s faking it well.”
Popeye glanced at her, his voice softening for just a breath. “And we’ve got people who know how to help with the rest.” As they neared the turbolift, he looked back toward the transporter room briefly, toward the one now in isolation, then ahead again. “One down… three more to clear.” Then to the group, “Hang in there. You’re not alone anymore.”
H'iri called to Doctor Pierce, "I will keep you informed of any more that arrive. Please let me know the statuses of each person that we have rescued immediately so I can start arranging for quarters and report to the XO regarding everyone's mental and physical status. The Captain might want to enlist some to our immediate aid." She then instructed the transporter chief, "Please stay focused. Even a microsecond of hesitation might cost lives."
"I can beam over anyone with a combadge, Lieutenant," he said to H'iri, his gaze softening, "but there's no one left alive over there."
"You're certain?" H'iri asked, her eyes wide and sad.
Elias looked towards the both of them with a somber look. "Let the dead rest in peace, son." He said before he turned to H'iri. "I know that you want to be sure, but the dead have earned their rest, and we can honor them by continuing on. Surviving each day."
"This is not earning rest," H'iri protested. "This is a slaughter at the hands of some technologically advanced race and we are way behind. We need to do more and be better than this."
"We're certain, Ma'am," the technician said gently. "Suspect it was from the attack, but the count doesn't match so maybe some were taken. Not really sure."
"The count doesn't match?" H'iri asked. "Explain." She remembered the attack on Earth. The beaming up of people. What were the Borg doing with people? "No, I don't think you need to. When I was on Earth, the Borg were taking people. I suspect to their ships but I don't know."
"That would seem like a logical explanation. Though they were also turning people on the ground. I saw...." Elias stops mid sentence, staring past H'iri, a thousand yard stare, not looking at anything specific just a blank stare.
"Turning?" H'iri asked confused, concerned about the doctor.
Popeye lingered near the Sickbay corridor entrance, turning back as the conversation behind him grew heavier. He caught Elias’s distant stare and moved toward him, slowing his steps. With practiced calm, he laid a hand on the man’s shoulder—firm, steadying.
“Elias,” he said quietly. “You're here. Stay with us.”
His eyes then shifted to H’iri, voice steady but edged with tension. “We don’t know yet. Not really. We’ve seen strange neural signatures, irregular patterns. Some crew show signs of massive stress, others… something deeper. But we haven’t put it all together.”
He gestured toward the transporter room. “If some are missing and the biosigns are just gone, there are a few possibilities. They could be dead. Or they could’ve been taken. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I’ve seen enough weird readings to say something’s off.”
Popeye exhaled through his nose. “We’re running full scans—medical, transporter logs, neural patterns. If the Borg are doing more than just assimilating on contact, we’ll find it. But right now? We’re working with fragments.”
Popeye looked back at H’iri with that same grim resolve. “I’ll keep you updated on everyone we pull out. You’ll get full medical and psychological profiles for each. But…” he hesitated, eyes tightening, “don’t count on anyone being untouched. Even if they look whole, we won’t know what they’ve been through until we dig deeper.” He gave the transporter chief a nod of appreciation, then turned again to Elias. “You with me?” he asked softly, knowing the toll this was taking on all of them.
It was several long tense seconds that seemed to last minutes before the large Caitian finally snapped out of the trance.
“I’m here. Thank you, Doctor.” He responded kindly. Though the doctor could tell, not all was well with Elias. That long stare was something of concern when Elias mentioned what he saw on the surface of Earth.
Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer, USS Jane Addams
Lt. Commander Jason Reeves
Executive Officer, USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant Elias McEntyre
Chief of Security
USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant Michael Taggart
Chief Flight Operations Officer, USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant H'iri
Chief Operations Officer, USS Jane Addams
Doctor Richard Pierce, MD
Chief Medical Officer, USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant Noah Clarke
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Archimedes
Ensign Cameron Reed
Computer Systems Specialist, USS Archimedes
(NPC written by Captain M'Raz)
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