The expanse of the large, dense asteroid field, formed when two planets collided, now stands as a natural barrier between the Klingon Empire and the Federation. Navigating this asteroid field is tantamount to suicide, served on a golden plate; this place is called the Grim Wall. Yet there is a single path, narrow enough for medium-sized starships, winding and twisting in a way that makes even the most experienced pilot nervous: the Pilgrim Route.

Slowly, a starship comes into view, challenging this passage at a careful pace. The light reflects off its hull, where the name USS Himalaya is plainly visible. Life on the bridge appears relaxed; even though they are in a dangerous zone, the crew knows its capabilities.

“Captain, you seem disinterested in this mission, or the ship, maybe even the crew?” a young Bajoran man says as he leans against his console, gazing at Adrián.

Adrián sets his PADD aside and looks over his shoulder. “Why would you say that, Lieutenant Revek?” He sits a bit straighter, waiting for an answer, but someone else interjects.

“Attitude, behavior, and composure, mostly,” remarks a slightly agitated Andorian woman sitting next to him. She doesn’t look at Adrián, her attention fixed on the console at her chair. “Did I miss anything, Captain?” she adds, noticing that she has caught his eye.

He narrows his gaze at Keslara zh’Talen, his newly assigned first officer. The one who asked was Chief Operations Officer Lieutenant Thal Revek, and Adrián also notices the glint in the eyes of Chief Security/Tactical Officer Lieutenant Darius Kane. Nearby, the edgy Lieutenant Junior Grade Ariana Vos, at the helm, appears eager to join the conversation but is either too shy or too focused on her work.

Taking a deep breath, Adrián glares at Keslara. “Commander zh’Talen, you have a keen eye. Honestly, I just wanted to stay in Engineering and fix things. But being a Chief Engineering Officer for most of my career, along with providing leadership, put locks on my back that I couldn’t refuse.” Adrián shrugs as he glances at the PADD. In truth, he could have turned down the position, but the promise made to him by Sazra was a boy’s dream he couldn’t resist.

‘Just imagine, a ship of your own to command, fixing any kind of Starfleet material that needs your expertise, and, to top it off, perhaps there’s alien technology out there you can reverse-engineer. Picture it: SCE Magazine front page, Commander Adrián Valerio discovers alien tech that improves Federation life.’ Sazra’s sales pitch echoes in the back of his mind. He sighs, realizing how greedily he had taken the bait and is now paying the price.

“So, why didn’t you say no?” Keslara looks up from her work at Adrián.

“Because of the Frontier Day crisis, the Lost Fleet invasion, and the sudden Borg appearance. Shall I continue?” Adrián knows his words will strike a nerve. “The simple fact is, Starfleet Command has run out of options for experienced officers to lead. I’m that second choice, and we all just have to deal with it.” What he says isn’t untrue; Starfleet personnel are stretched thin, logistics struggles to fill every post, and Starfleet Command pushed Sazra to offer seasoned officers. Adrián was simply unlucky enough to be one of them.

Keslara shrugs at that explanation, well aware of Starfleet’s predicament, but she dislikes the idea of officers in command roles who never wanted to be there in the first place. She starts to object, but something interrupts.

“Captain, we have a weak distress signal from a civilian freighter,” Thal says, eyeing his console.

“Let’s hear it.” Adrián studies the screen.

“Mayday… Grim… please-”

Adrián narrows his eyes and looks at Thal. “Where is it coming from?”

“I’m getting interference from the Grim Wall. Redirecting more power to sensors,” Thal says, swiping his fingers over the console to boost the sensor grid. “The signal is a few light-years ahead along the route. I’m having difficulty clearing it up.”

Tapping a few keys on her chair, Keslara says, “Engineering is informed, and the Himalaya can handle whatever rough maneuvers our pilot throws at it.” She glances at Ariana, who nods and boosts the ship’s engines. “We should be able to get there quickly.”

A low growl comes from Darius on the right. “That would be ill-advised, Commander. We can’t rule out a ruse. Klingon scouts might be lurking in the dark.” He’s concerned about recent Klingon activity after they started rampaging near Romulan Republic colonies.

“Maybe so, but the Prime Directive states we must respond to distress calls,” Keslara points out bluntly. “It’s our duty, Lieutenant, trap or not.”

Adrián leans back in his chair as everyone turns to him. “Lieutenant Kane, yellow alert. Lieutenant Vos, set an intercept course. We need to investigate the distress call. We can’t leave them out there.” He sees approval from some and concern from others, but it is ultimately his choice. Is this the stress of command that Sazra had to endure for so long?

The Himalaya advances deeper along the Pilgrim Route as Ariana deftly maneuvers through rough turns. “We’re approaching the coordinates Lieutenant Revek identified,” she says, her formal tone unable to hide her nerves.

“I’m reading a sharp increase in subspace interference near the route’s edge, but there’s no sign of the ship,” Thal reports, continuing to search for the civilian freighter.

Calm in his chair, Adrián gazes at the screen, blocking out the noise on the bridge. His eyes narrow on the asteroids near the edge, focusing on the open field beyond, until he spots a glint of metal. He points. “There! Vos, set an intercept course…” The Himalaya veers toward the area. “Get a security team ready. We may be dealing with a rescue operation!”

On approach, they find only debris, remains of what was once a civilian freighter. “Commander,” Thal says quietly, “the anomalies in this area are off the charts. The wreck didn’t last long enough for us to reach it.”

Adrián’s experience tells him otherwise. “Scan it,” he orders, eyes still fixed on the viewer as he fidgets with his fingers.

“Sir…”

“Scan it,” he repeats, his tone firm but calm.

Thal glances at Keslara, who simply nods. Running the scan, he narrows his eyes. “I’m detecting life-signs in some sections of the debris, faint, but they’re there.” Thal can hardly believe it.

“Have an away team ready. Darius, use environmental suits and alert Medical, we have wounded,” Adrián says decisively. Even Keslara looks impressed by his command bearing.

Darius nods. “Understood, Captain.” He heads to the turbolift, his parting words carrying through just before the door slides closed: “Transporter Room 1.”

A blip briefly appears on Thal’s console. “Sensors momentarily picked up an unknown contact at extreme range. The computer logged it as a ghost reading.” He frowns, suspecting the Klingons might be nearby. It leaves a knot in his stomach.

The distress call crackles once more, sending chills through the bridge: “H-help… us…”