The away team steps onto jagged metal flooring lit by flickering emergency lights after materializing in a collapsed corridor. Sparking wires hang from the ceiling, and the stale air reeks of scorched metal. Hull breaches vent occasional puffs of vapor into the surrounding void, while distant groans hint at dangerous structural instability.

Darius looks carefully around, seeing the mess caused by whatever hit the ship. This mission demands quick and orderly action without losing your head in the process. “Ensign Delvar, talk to me. What’s the status of this ship? How much time do we have?” He needs a foundation to build on, a plan to retreat if necessary.

While the young ensign scans the area, Shavrin finishes her analysis. “The radiation and low oxygen levels will affect your health, so keep your breathers on,” she says, peering ahead into the dark corridor where twisted metal and flickering lights emphasize the danger. “I’ll keep my scanner focused on any signs of life.”

After placing a portable light stand to illuminate a path through fallen beams, Brel glances at the completed scan on his tricorder. “Structural integrity is very low in several sectors. The path ahead is the most stable, but I need to keep checking the area every second we move forward to make sure it’s safe.” Though he doesn’t show it, Brel is uneasy. As the ship’s Advanced Fabrication Engineer, he’s second-best for this task, Petty Officer T’Fal is the real expert, but she’s stuck on the Himalaya for repairs.

Nodding to the young Trill, Darius proceeds toward the direction Brel indicated. “Stay close to me,” Darius orders, moving forward. The faintest sound makes him turn, wary despite his experience; this type of mission is something new for him.

A faint tremor vibrates through the deck plating as a subspace wave from the Grim Wall rattles the freighter. Darius quickly takes position. “Scan the area, Ensign.”

“That last hit caused numerous micro-fractures in the bulkheads,” Brel says, using his scanner to gauge hull stress. He shrugs, looking at Darius and the rest of the away team. “Another surge could cause catastrophic failure.” A beep on Shavrin’s tricorder draws his attention.

She narrows her eyes at the readout, then stops at a nearby compartment. “I’ve got a weak biosign in here.” Without waiting for help, she starts to pry open the twisted hatch. Darius steps in to assist, revealing two crew members pinned by debris. “Help me out,” Shavrin calls, diving in to start medical treatment.

Brel drops to one knee and stabilizes the bent support beam with a portable force field generator, buying the team enough time to free the trapped survivors. They’re barely conscious, likely from hypoxia. He looks up as the bulkheads shudder with each subspace pulse, warning him that time is short.

“Careful,” Shavrin says, reading her scans and administering hyposprays. “Their bodies are pretty beaten, basic subspace shock trauma,” she adds, glancing at Darius. “Might be from the violent wave that tore the ship apart. We need to get them out.”

Darius nods, tapping his badge. “Kane to Himalaya, requesting emergency transport.” Static hisses through the channel. He looks at one of the semi-conscious victims. “Can you tell us if the Klingons attacked your ship?”

The man coughs, trying to focus. “It happened too quickly. The ship tore open in seconds.”

“Stay here. We’re running out of time, and I have to report this to our captain. Let’s move forward, give them emergency triage and tag them, Doctor.” Shavrin nods in acknowledgment. Down the corridor, scorch marks streak the walls. It’s eerily quiet, save for a faint hum from backup power. A broken terminal flashes readouts hinting that an intense, unnatural wave hammered this ship. The air crackles with residual static, a clue pointing to a sinister external force.

“Maybe I can salvage something,” Darius mutters, kneeling by a damaged computer core. He manages to extract partial sensor data showing a massive subspace spike well beyond normal Grim Wall turbulence. The realization sends a chill through him.

Shavrin enters, overhearing Darius’s conclusion. They exchange uneasy glances. “That suggests sabotage more than a random cosmic event, Lieutenant.”

A deafening crack rings out as a fresh quake rattles the freighter’s failing structure. Deck plating groans under the violent tremor, and ceiling panels slam to the floor, spewing sparks into the stale, smoky air. Lights sputter, plunging half the passage into darkness.

Brel’s force field generator flickers wildly, struggling to keep a mangled bulkhead from collapsing altogether. Darius lunges forward, bracing the twisted metal, while Shavrin shields the two injured survivors. Somewhere deeper in the wreck, alarm klaxons blare, a harsh reminder that hull integrity is nearly gone.

When the tremor finally subsides, Darius scowls. He tries his badge again. “Kane to Himalaya, come in!”

Seconds drag by like hours, until a crackling voice breaks through, “Inbound wave… stand by…” then silence.

Darius narrows his eyes at his team. “We have to get out of here. A larger subspace surge is on the way.”

“We could use the emergency transporter system,” Shavrin suggests, tapping a small device on her collar.

Brel shakes his head while adjusting the generator. “I wouldn’t trust it. Interference is too high, and it might make a safe beam-out impossible.” They’ve already struggled just to communicate.

Another beep on Shavrin’s tricorder turns her toward a side corridor. “Three more life signs detected. Over there.”

Looking up, Brel motions warily. “Be careful, that corridor’s on the verge of collapsing. Those support beams are almost done for.”

Despite this, Darius tightens his grip on his phaser. “Ensign, stabilize it as best you can. We’re going in. Nobody gets left behind.” He leads the way past bent beams and flickering force fields, every step echoing with creaks of tortured metal.

Another subspace ripple slams the freighter, and the hull groans in protest. Sparks fly from a ruptured conduit, and a sudden breach vents precious oxygen. Darius grimaces, eyeing Brel. “Can you seal it?”

Brel rummages for usable scrap and begins patching a makeshift seal. “No idea how long this’ll hold, so let’s hurry,” he says, sweat lining his brow.

Shavrin kneels beside a patient with severe plasma burns. “We need to evacuate immediately, Lieutenant Kane. Time’s about up.”

He gives a curt nod. “We’re pulling back. The ship won’t stay together. We need to find a spot where the Himalaya can beam us up without this interference.” He helps a wounded survivor as they move toward a central hub.

“We’ll… try… lock… hurry…” The garbled voice of the Himalaya echoes, but it’s cut short by a metallic shriek from the corridors. Bulkheads tear open as the deck plates buckle dangerously close.

They scramble for cover. Shavrin and Brel haul the severely injured man, while the entire structure lurches toward collapse. Will they escape via transporter in time, or be lost with the freighter’s final destruction?