The Mirror's Truth

Posted on Sat Jul 25th, 2026 @ 5:22pm by Rear Admiral Zseeq & Lieutenant Commander Lin Yue & Lieutenant Commander Eve Hall & Lieutenant Commander Melanie D'BrooNi- Haistro & Lieutenant Siân Kirel & Lieutenant Zhi'rev

4,952 words; about a 25 minute read

Mission: Short Treks
Location: Bridge, U.S.S. Saratoga

The chime of the ship-wide summon was still vibrating in the air as Zseeq watched the starscape on the viewscreen stretch into the elongated white lines of Warp 6. He remained standing by the command chair, his hands clasped behind his back in a pose of sophisticated, intimidating composure. To the rest of the Bridge, he was the picture of authority, a predator in a perfectly tailored uniform, but his internal clock was counting the seconds until the turbo-lift doors opened, marking the arrival of the "ghosts".

He didn't look at the junior officers at their stations; his attention was fixed on the holographic files he had just minimized into his armrest console: Maran, D’Brooni-Haistro, and Zhi’rev. The survivors of the Biranu Conference.

"Steady as she goes, Ensign Chambers," Zseeq said, his baritone carrying a low, dangerous vibrato. "Lieutenant Thompson, keep the long-range array focused on that fourth planet. I want to know the exact moment that archaic signal gains a voice."

The lift doors hissed open. As the senior staff filtered onto the Bridge, Zseeq finally turned. His blue eyes, known for their intense and calculating gaze, swept over the arrivals. He acknowledged Commander Hall, Lieutenant Kirel, Commander Yue, and Lieutenant Thira with a detached nod. Then, his gaze lingered on the three bio-mechanical replicas: Zhi'rev, Maran, and D’Brooni-Haistro.

They were perfect. Their speech and gestures were exactly as he remembered, yet the scans still showed that 0.2% variance, a biological chasm that Zseeq could not ignore. To him, they were synthetic mirrors navigating the wreckage of their own identities.

"Gentlemen, Ladies," Zseeq began, his expression settling into a "warm yet cold" manipulative smile. "We’ve picked up an echo from the 2360s, a manual override on an automated loop from the fourth planet. Someone went to great lengths to be found." He stepped down toward the center of the Bridge, his silhouette framed by the flickering data of the Science station. "In a ship currently defined by 'missing fractions' and recursive duplicates, the universe has handed us a different kind of ghost. I want an immediate analysis of this signal and identification on any vessels that may've gone missing in this region."

He paused, his eyes pinning the replicants and the "real" crew alike with clinical intensity, "And I want to know if this signal is a genuine cry for help... or if we are simply being invited to another masquerade."

"A thirty-nine-year-old distress signal?" Zhi queried as he accessed his station, "it could well have been a genuine cry back then, but what are the odds someone is still out there after all this time?"

Ralen looked at the tactical display that flickered between interpretations of the incoming signal, refusing to settle on a single, stable read. Distress harmonics threaded through the feed in uneven bursts, but underneath them was something else—were they too clean, something wasn't filtering right or was it? Was it too intentional in others.

She watched it all without speaking for a moment longer than necessary, jaw tight as she let instinct outrank curiosity. Her hand hovered near the tactical controls—not activating them, but not far from it either.

“If that’s a distress call, it’s doing a terrible job of proving it,” Ralen hands tightened as she said flatly. Her eyes tracked the shifting spatial readouts, mapping threat corridors and damage arcs automatically. “If it’s a trap, I don’t like how much of the ship it gets to touch before we find out.” A brief pause, then colder: “If we double passive scans and possibly look for emissions and reactions to us looking at it… we will have our answer." She looked up.

Lin had been accessing the ships main computer and searching through decades old information and reports. Delicately manipulating her consoles controls until she had narrowed down the search parameter.

"Captain. I have a number of potential candidates. Between 2360 and today there are three confirmed missing Starfleet vessels in the area and two cargo ships. I can find little to no information pertaining to Romulan or Klingon activity in the area within that time frame however".

Zseeq ascended the final step from the command dais, his movements possessing a "predator’s grace" that felt both elegant and unsettling in the low-light ambiance of the Bridge. He bypassed the center seat entirely, choosing instead to pace a slow, deliberate semi-circle behind the Science and Tactical stations, positioning himself as a silent observer between the "real" officers and the "ghosts". His blue eyes, noted for their "intense and calculating gaze," flickered toward the Science console where Zhi'rev worked. The Science Officer's question about the odds of survival hung in the air, but Zseeq didn't offer the comfort of a direct answer. Instead, he let the silence stretch, measured by his internal clock, before his baritone voice cut through the hum of the Bridge.

"The odds are a luxury of the certain, Lieutenant Zhi'rev," Zseeq said, his voice dropping into that low and dangerous vibrato he was known for. "On this ship, we have already seen that 'dead' is a relative term. If a data stream can be reconstructed into a crewman, then a fifty-year-old signal can certainly be reconstructed into a survivor." He turned his head slightly toward Lieutenant Thira, acknowledging the Tactical Officer’s suspicion with a smirk. "I agree, Lieutenant Thira. Caution is our only stable variable. Proceed with your suggestion: double the passive scans and monitor for any emissions that react to our own sensor pings. If this 'ghost' is watching us back, I want to see the dilation of its eyes."

"Nothing is certain until we corroborate it with data captain," Zhi answered without looking up. "Until we see any survivors, this could well be an automated message in a continuous loop." His slender fingers danced across his console. "I recommend sending a probe."

Zseeq stopped his pacing just over Zhi’rev’s shoulder, his tall frame casting a long, sharp shadow across the active science displays. He leaned in slightly, his flawless skin reflecting the cool, grey luminescence of the console as he stared down at the data streams. He let the rhythmic silence hang between them for a beat, his internal clock marking the defiance in his Science Officer's tone.

"A probe offers a mechanical baseline, Lieutenant, but it lacks intuition," Zseeq said as he stopped his pacing just over Zhi’rev’s shoulder, his tall frame casting a long, sharp shadow across the active science displays. His voice dropped into a low, smooth baritone, "And right now I require intuition to bridge the gap that the data leaves behind."

The Vulcan shivered involuntarily as he sensed the captain's proximity and took a small step sideways to create a minute distance. While not much, it was enough to give him a sense of space even though his personal space was still invaded. "We need data first before we can put an emotional sauce over it captain. Now all we have is speculation. Data provides certainty."

Lieutenant Thira kept her eyes on the shifting sensor readouts, jaw tight. “Faith in reconstructed ghosts is not strategy, Captain.” She glanced briefly toward Zhi’rev. “A probe gives us facts without risking lives chasing echoes.”

Her gaze returned to Zseeq. “We don’t hunt shadows just because they might blink first.”

Finally, he looked toward Commander Yue, his expression sharpening with clinical intensity. "Commander Yue, cross-reference those five missing vessels against the modulation of the signal. I want to know what they were carrying before they became a memory."

"Aye sir" was the crisp reply from Lin at ops as her fingers started to work the console like those of a practised pianist about to breath life into a sonnet of old.

In his rhythmic pacing of the Bridge, Zseeq came to a halt behind the Helm, his silhouetted frame casting a long shadow over the deck. "We are dropping out of warp in three minutes," Zseeq announced, his gaze pinning the Senior Staff. "Prepare for a localized masquerade. If the signal is a lie, we will expose it. If it is the truth... we will find out what price they paid to stay alive long enough to tell it."

"Yellow alert,” Eve ordered, following the captain’s remarks.

Without raising her voice, she motioned sharply for the junior officers to take their stations. Around the bridge, consoles lit up as the crew moved at once, while most of the senior staff were already in place.

Eve crossed to the flight control console and stopped beside Lieutenant Maran.

“Maran, bring us out of warp in a wide sweeping arc into planetary orbit,” she said. “Let’s not look too predatory on approach.”

The XO gave the lieutenant a brief pat on the shoulder before turning back toward the centre of the bridge.

“Forty years is a long time to be missing,” she said to the captain, her tone thoughtful. “Even longer to keep broadcasting a distress call that nobody’s answered. It's not like we are in a particularly remote area of space, Captain."

Zseeq didn't turn to face his XO, his eyes remaining fixed on the Viewscreen as the Warp streaks began to slow. His eyes were searching, like a predatory bird looking for its prey amidst the dust. He spoke with a smooth, unyielding stillness, "Which suggests that the isolation isn't geographic, Commander, it's systemic. A signal left to decay for decades either means the universe forgot how to listen, or someone went to great lengths to ensure the Saratoga would be the one to hear it."

The Captain's boots made no sound as he crossed the deck to reclaim his position in the center of the Bridge. He let his gaze drift back toward the Science and Tactical stations, his manipulative smile returning in a faint, fleeting flash. "Let us see if the fourth planet is a graveyard, a sanctuary, or a stage. Drop us out of Warp and begin active scans of the region to find the source of the call."

"Scans activated," Zhi reported quietly, feeling very much watched as the captain's eyes settled on him. "Reading various elements consistent with the presence of a breathable atmosphere as well as the presence of an ozone layer comparable to Earth. Earth pre-industrial age that is." He paused as more data trickled in, feeding the information to the tactical station and the helm as well. "Unstable layers in orbit," he reported, "it may get bumpy in occasion though I'm not reading any spatial pollution. No debris, no artificial satellites. Just..." He frowned, then looked up, a single eyebrow arched in evident surprise. "Spatial vegetable gardens?" He blinked a few times as if to wake himself from a funny dream. "Tactical please confirm readings..."

Lieutenant Thira straightened at Tactical, fingers already moving across her console as the ship dropped out of warp. The faint shift in inertial dampers drew a slight narrowing of her eyes.

“Confirmed,” she said after a moment, voice steady but edged with skepticism. “Atmosphere is stable enough for Class M tolerance. Ozone layer checks out against pre-industrial baselines.”

She hesitated at Zhi’rev’s last readout, glancing briefly at him before focusing back on the data. “Spatial… vegetation?” A pause, then a firmer tone. “Sensors don’t ‘dream,’ the last time I checked. Either there’s an unknown orbital biosignature structure, or our interpretation matrix is misfiring under local interference.”

Her hands adjusted the scan parameters. “I’m running a full spectrum sweep and tightening resolution bands. If something is up there, I want it separated from noise before we start assigning it intent.”

A beat. “Captain, recommend we hold orbit until we understand what kind of ‘garden’ doesn’t belong to any known gardener.”

"Drawing power from non-essential systems to boost signal," Zhi added, "can we get a visual?"

Zseeq did not move. He remained dead center on the Bridge deck, his silhouette framed perfectly by the massive, swirling rust-and-jade curve of the planet now dominating the viewscreen. He listened to the rhythmic ping of the sensors and the back-and-forth between his Tactical officer and his Science Officer, letting the silence stretch just long enough to maintain his psychological edge. The physical step sideways Zhi’rev had taken moments earlier to protect his personal space had not gone unnoticed. To Zseeq, that tiny, defensive micro-expression was a data point more telling than any readout on a console. It was a symptom of the chasm.

"An unknown biosignature with an Earth pre-industrial atmospheric baseline," Zseeq mused aloud, his baritone dropping into that low, dangerous vibrato. He let a cold, manipulative smile touch his lips. "How beautifully pastoral. A piece of paradise floating in an uncharted void, completely untouched by the wreckage of the last century."

He turned his head toward the helm, his blue eyes locking onto Lieutenant Maran with clinical intensity. "Ensign Chambers, establish a high polar orbit as ordered by the Commander. Keep our approach clean but stay alert to the helm's response time. If the orbital layers are as unstable as Lieutenant Zhi’rev claims, I want to feel the ship react before the sensors do."

"You want a visual, Lieutenant?" Zseeq asked, his tone deceptively smooth as began to pace back toward the Science station, his boots nearly silent against the deck plates. "Then let us pull back the curtain. Transfer the primary science feed to the main viewscreen. Lieutenant Thira, sync your full-spectrum sweep to the visual overlay. If this orbital 'garden' is an illusion born of local interference, let us watch the matrix misfire in real time." He turned back to the viewscreen, his hands clasping behind his back once more as the display flickered, shifting from the raw planetary image to a high-resolution orbital sweep.

"Let's see exactly what our gardener has left behind for us."

Lieutenant Thira’s voice lowered as the tactical overlay shifted across her console, amber markers threading through the orbital lattice like veins.

“Captain… these aren’t random growths. The orbital structures are redistributing stellar radiation across the planet’s Magnetosphere.” Her expression hardened as additional vectors populated the display. “But they could also be tracking us. Every time our sensors sweep the network, sections of the lattice reorient toward the ship.”

Her fingers moved sharply across the controls, isolating the pulsing energy patterns.

“This garden wasn’t built for decoration.” She looked up toward the viewscreen, suspicion cutting through her calm professionalism. “It was engineered to keep something on the planet alive…” A beat passed before she finished coldly, “and keep something else out.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Recommend we reduce active sensor output immediately. Right now, we may be teaching it how to see us.”

"I agree," Zhi added, immediately reducing the intensity of the running scans to almost non-existent. "Still think not sending a probe is a good idea?" He openly challenged the captain.

"Captain, if I may" Lin break into the flow of the back and forth between officers. "I have cross referenced what data we have available and pulling upon records over the last forty years, I think we have a single match."

She manipulated the console and sent a display of information to the right side of the main viewscreen. It was easily visible but still allowed sight of what was beyond.

"The signal appears to match that of the S.S. Mariposa 1. She was a civilian medical vessel reported missing in this area approximately thirty eight years ago. She had a crew of Twenty ranging from operational crew to the medical staff. Unknown if she was carrying any patients at the time. The U.S.S. Wayfarer was dispatched to search for her after her disappearance but found no evidence indicating what may have happened to her was ever found."

Zseeq did not turn away from the viewscreen immediately, his gaze remaining fixed on the shifting veins of the orbital lattice pulsing against the rust-and-jade world below. He let the silence stretch for a beat, processing the data with clinical intensity. When he shifted his weight, turning his tall frame toward the center of the deck, his expression was completely still, completely direct. His eyes locked onto Zhi’rev, absorbing the open challenge from his Science Officer without letting a fraction of his composure slip.

"The time for a probe has passed, Lieutenant," Zseeq said flatly, his baritone sharp and devoid of its usual rhythmic delay. "We're already here. Cut active sensor output to minimum as suggested, but shift all remaining passive telemetry to a tight-band sweep of the southern hemisphere. If the Mariposa is down there, I want life-signs. Scan for survivors."

"Well unless you want to send a shuttle down through those vines, a probe might be the best option we have for more detailed information," Zhi countered, his tone a complete contrast to the captain's. "Active scans have already been reduced," he added, "changing telemetry to find anything with a heartbeat. This may take a few minutes."

He looked up toward the tactical console, giving Lieutenant Thira a crisp, clinical nod. "Keep our tactical footprint shallow, Thira, but lock onto any bio-signatures that cut through that atmospheric interference."

Thira inclined her head once, the corner of her mouth tightening with quiet understanding as her hands moved across the tactical interface.

“Aye, Captain. Reducing active emissions to minimal scatter.” The tactical grid dimmed slightly as she adjusted the ship’s sensor posture. “I’ll filter for isolated bioelectric signatures and thermal irregularities strong enough to penetrate the atmospheric distortion.”

Her eyes flicked briefly toward him before returning to the console.

“If something alive is moving beneath that shield, we’ll find it.” A short pause, “Preferably before whatever built this lattice decides we shouldn’t.”

His focus shifted smoothly to the side display populated by the Operations station, his eyes running down the technical specs of the missing civilian vessel.

"A civilian medical vessel vanishing nearly four decades ago," Zseeq murmured, his voice carrying an unyielding, corporate chill. "Commander Yue, keep digging into the Mariposa's manifest. I want to know what they were carrying before they became a memory. Ensign Chambers, establish our polar orbit."

Lin simply nodded at the command, still pouring over the stream of data that was filling her console.
Records showed that the Mariposa had been loosely assigned to Darwin station, a genetic research facility on Gagarin IV. At the time of Mariposa's disappearance a Doctor Kingsley was heading the stations research teams. It appeared that the station was conducting experimentations in genetic manipulation but the records seemed to be devoid of any substantial information.

He stepped up onto the command dais, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out at the massive planet filling the viewscreen.

"Let us see who is still breathing down there, eh Number One?"

Yue had waited for the communications to end before chiming in. "Captain, I have found some limited information pertaining to Darwin Station but a lot of the records are classified beyond my clearance level."

"If a civilian transport from a genetic research facility is buried under a tracking lattice, the classification is no longer historical. It is an active variable," Zseeq said, his voice entirely flat, stripped of its rhythmic delay. He cast a cold, fleeting sidelong glance toward Eve Hall, his manipulative smile returning in a momentary flash, "A shadow from Darwin Station, wrapped in classified seals, sitting beneath an engineered shroud. The masquerade deepens."

Eyes remaining glued to his readings, Zhi arched a single eyebrow as his keen senses caught something in the clutter of data. "I have a faint life sign," he reported, "but readings are fluctuating, I can't get it any better due to all the atmospheric interference. I can't pinpoint it, exactly...is like it's dancing all across the area of the crash site."

"Life signs do not dance, Lieutenant," Zseeq said, his baritone dropping into a low, dangerous vibrato. He stepped off the dais, his boots silent, "A signature shifting across a crash site is a deliberate distortion. Lieutenant Thira, cross-reference those fluctuating coordinates with the active movement of the orbital lattice. I want to know if these 'jumps' correlate to the network reorienting toward our hull."

"Matter of perspective captain," the Vulcan explained, "the pattern appears to be dancing to me as it's not fixed in one place. And the distortion doesn't have to be deliberate, there's enough atmospheric variance to account for it." He looked towards Thira. "I'll feed sensor readings to you as they come in. I need to to try and compensate for the vegetation out there and try to stabilise the output."

Lieutenant Thira didn’t look up immediately, already pulling the incoming feed into her console. The tactical display fractured into overlapping vectors—life-sign fluctuations, orbital lattice motion, atmospheric shear.

“Copy that, Science,” she said, voice steady, but sharpened by concentration.

His blue eyes sharpened. "Commander Yue, use my administrative override to bypass the classification on Darwin Station. See what you can find." He turned toward the Chief Medical Officer, "Doctor, I believe that Commander Yue could make use of your experience."

"Yes Sir," Mel said. "When you are ready Commander."

"Doctor" Lin acknowledged started to input the Captains personal override codes to access the data.
The ops console was situated to the right of the Captains Chair, one of the formal standing consoles that both Lin and Mel could easily inhabit and work at concurrently. Lin shuffled across giving the good Doctor space to see what was downloading to their database.

"I still recommend sending a probe down to the apparent crash site to get improved readings" Zhi insisted, "or let me take a shuttle down." The Vulcan continued to try and clear up the signal but it kept bouncing back and forth within the same area. "There's something interfering from the surface, it's as if whoever is down there doesn't want us to find either them or whatever is down there. The signal won't get any better and I'm already drawing on maximum resources."

Siân stood overlooking the engineering console on the bridge with her arms behind her back. As part Cardassian, she portrayed a posture of elegant strength. Studying the screen, she noted the engineering of Darwin's station. It's silence was misleading, filled to the brim of secrets. Even a probe wouldn't be enough to break through the interference. They'd need something to cut through it, analyze it and send a stronger signal. Tapping on her console, she toggled the warning flashing off and replied, "Zhi's right. Sending a probe is a good plan if we modify it somehow to bounce off the static. To make a clear signal. I second on taking the shuttle to improve the signal using the beacons as a sounding board to cut through the interference."

Zseeq didn't turn away from the viewscreen immediately, though his posture softened just enough to lose its sharp edge. He listened to the assessment, letting his initial impatience give way to the smooth, calculated logic that usually guided his command. The back-and-forth between his crew - Zhi’rev’s insistence, Thira’s caution, and now the engineering support from Siân - was a puzzle he needed to solve, not an argument he needed to win.

"I appreciate the initiative, Chief, but a shuttle is too much of a blind gamble right now," Zseeq answered, his voice calm and even. He turned slowly, his blue eyes resting on the Engineer and the Science Officer with a professional look. "If the surface interference is this severe, sending our people down into an unknown environment without reliable telemetry is a risk I am not willing to take. Look how it turned out last time and we knew about the destination."

He stepped toward the center of the deck, the coldness fading from his expression. "Let's look at the Lieutenant's suggestion. Chief, if you can modify a probe to act as a sounding board and bounce a clean signal back to us as Zhi'rev recommended, do it from orbit. Slave its telemetry directly to Lieutenant Thira's tactical sweep." He looked between Zhi'rev and Siân, offering a faint, encouraging nod. "If the modifications work, we get the baseline data we need to clear up those dancing life signs. If it fails, we haven't risked a single life to find out. Please proceed."

Well, this was certainly progress... A faint smile of victory touching the corner of his mouth, the Vulcan science chief set to programming the probe, readying it for Siân to launch it. It took only a few seconds to so so. "Probe is ready for launch at your discretion Chief Kirel."

"Launch the probe when ready, Chief Kirel," Zseeq instructed, his baritone steady and completely devoid of its earlier sharp edge. He stepped back toward the command dais, maintaining his position as a grounded observer while his senior officers fell into a synchronized routine, "Lieutenant Thira, the moment that telemetry link opens, lock it down. I want that data stabilized before the atmospheric distortion can warp the baseline."

As soon as the probe was launched and sifted through the atmosphere, data was starting to come in. Zhi fed the data to Thira's station the moment it came in. "Signal is stabilizing," he reported as the probe approached the location of the emergency signal. "Still no detectable life signs but the probe is sending back some odd readings." The Vulcan paused as he pieced the data together. "There may be tunnels in the area, or caves."

Zseeq focused on the telemetry streaming across the main viewscreen, his hands clasped loosely behind his back as the probe's modified signal cut through the planet's atmospheric static. The data points were rapidly shifting, but with the combined effort of the bridge crew, the chaotic readout was finally organizing into something tangible.

"Tunnels or caves would explain the thermal shielding, Lieutenant," Zseeq said, his calm baritone carrying across the deck. He turned slightly toward the operations console, his mind shifting from the immediate technical puzzle to the broader tactical picture. "Commander Yue, the administrative override should have cleared by now. What do the unredacted files from Darwin Station tell us about the Mariposa’s true mission?"

"The data is coming through now sir. Mariposa was a civilian medical transport, officially on paper that is, but it appears as if that may have been a constructed falsification within Starfleet Records. I'm not sure what I'm seeing here... Doctor?"

Lin surrendered the console to Mel but continued speaking. "Indications of some covert research extending out from Darwin Station under the supervision of a Doctor Kingsley Something about biological anomalies".

Mel's brow furrowed. "I have never heard of a Dr Kingsley but .... " she pulled up a couple more files available. "its all to do with antibodies, subjects with proactive immune systems. Oh by the gods they were ...." she looked at Lin. "Breeding children."

An alarm rang out on the Science console, instantly garnering Lieutenant Zhi'rev's attention. Zseeq turned toward the Vulcan, "Report."

There was a brief pause as the Vulcan science chief double checked the readings, just to make sure they weren't faulty. "Believe it or not, but the probe is registering life signs," he reported, eyes narrowing as he scanned the verified data. "Fifteen, to be exact. But which species remains a mystery, the probe isn't sending any details on that."

"Fifteen," Zseeq repeated, his baritone dropping back into that low, dangerous vibrato. He did not look at Zhi'rev, keeping his eyes pinned to the shifting data streams on the main viewscreen. "A civilian vessel disappears for thirty-eight years, and nearly three-quarters of its manifest remains breathing in the dark. The universe does not deal in such generous arithmetic."

He paused, letting the weight of the anomaly settle over the senior staff before he turned his head slightly toward the operations console, his gaze cutting toward the Chief Medical Officer and Commander Yue. "Doctor D’Brooni-Haistro, if Kingsley's people were conducting unmonitored biological research before they became ghosts, those fifteen signatures could be anything from a medical miracle to an entirely engineered ecosystem." His expression sharpened with a cold, calculating intensity. "I want a specialized medical scan slaved to that probe's telemetry immediately. If we are walking into a quarantine hazard, I want to know before we break the seal."

"Commander Hall, assemble the away team," Zseeq ordered as he stepped up to the center of the Bridge deck, his silhouette framed perfectly by the massive rust-and-jade curve of the world below. "Prepare a full tactical and medical detail. We are going to beam down directly outside the primary cavern vectors. Let us drop the curtain on Doctor Kingsley’s little masquerade and see exactly what is still breathing in those tunnels."

Not really paying attention to the back and forth, the Bajoran was watching her screen intently. Any sudden movement, anything out of whack, Ralen's on it. Hyper-focused she did not hear the Captain's request, tapping her fingers diligently on the glass panel. Something was not right, this 'anomaly' was too by the books. Was it cooked up?

"Captain, sir. Something is too by the books." Thira spoke up. "This is too perfect, no variance, no 'mini'-anomalies, just a clean cut problem. Space, Nature doesn't work like that."

"I agree," Zhi spoke up, "and our probe refuses to give us more details. It's like information is deliberately obscured from discovery."

"A perfect reason for an away mission," Zseeq assured as he nodded to his XO, "Get going..."

OOC: This mission will be revisited and reattempted at a later date.

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