The hum of the USS Stardust’s engines resonated softly through the deck plates, a low and comforting rhythm that marked the beginning of a new chapter. The ship gleamed with newness, yet its corridors carried the faint echoes of the Sausalito – familiar faces, voices, and the quiet pulse of camaraderie that survived every transfer, every battle, every mission from the past year spent aboard. 

Once aboard the Stardust, Captain Harper Brooks took her place on the bridge, her gaze sweeping across the new yet somewhat familiar layout. The lighting felt brighter here, the air a touch crisper, and the viewscreen, which was massive and vivid, painted the black of space promise. 

Starfleet Command’s order had arrived less that twenty-four hours earlier: the Stardust was to proceed to the Shackleton Expanse and investigate an anomaly recently reported by Framheim Station. Deep in uncharted space, a single planet had begun emitting subspace pulses from a massive, dormant spire. An artifact thought to predate even the oldest known records of the Vezda civilization. The directive was clear: determine whether the reactivation posed a danger to nearby systems, or if it represented an unprecedented scientific breakthrough. It was the Stardust’s first major assignment, and the weight of it was not lost on anyone aboard.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Hveir was already at the helm, relaxed in the pilot’s chair, his expression wearing that easy confidence that Harper had quickly learned was both genuine and slightly performative.

“All systems nominal, Captain,” he said, glancing back with a casual grin. “Course set to the Shackleton Expanse. Ready to depart whenever you give the word.”

Harper nodded, her lips curving slightly. “Excellent. All stations, report.”

Executive Officer Sili, precise and composed as ever, checked her tactical display. “Weapons and shields optimized, Captain. Tactical readiness at full capacity.” Her tone was crisp but not cold.

At engineering, Commander T’Penne’s voice came through the intercom, cool and efficient. “All propulsion systems functioning within operational parameters. Minimal adaptation required.”

“Medical is prepared for long-range deployments,” said Lieutenant Commander Redrol Roders, his voice calm and reassuring. “Crew health is optimal. And morale seems….unusually high.”

That earned a few smiles around the bridge. 

Lieutenant Junior Grade Hazel Whitlock tapped her console, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “All frequencies clear. Task Force 47 command connected. We’re green across the board.”

Harper allowed herself a moment of pride, her gaze passing over her bridge crew – her crew. “Good. Framheim Station has detected unusual energy readings deep in the Shackleton Expanse. A dormant spire has begun emitting subspace pulses. It is both potentially dangerous and potentially historic. That is our first destination.”

Sili’s brow furrowed. “Ancient Vezda signatures?”

“Preliminary scans indicate similarity,” Harper confirmed. “We don’t yet know if this is a threat, a scientific opportunity, or a risk of cultural contamination. That’s why we’re going in.”

“Potential hazard to crew or local populations?” Redrol asked, his medical instincts kicking in immediately.

Harper’s gaze hardened, resolve shining through. “As always, we proceed with caution – but we proceed. That is our duty.”

Hazel leaned forward, excitement evident in her voice. “So we will be the first to respond.”

Harper nodded. “Exactly. And I trust each of you to rise to the occasion. The Stardust is not just a ship – it is a continuation of everything we’ve fought for and accomplished. Let’s make history together, crew.”

“Helm,” she said after a beat, “take us out.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The Stardust eased from its berth at Starbased 47, gliding gracefully into the black. The light from the station fell away until only the stars remained. The hum deepened, the deck vibrated, and in a streak of motion the Stardust leapt to warp – her new journey beginning.

Hours Later – En Route to the Expanse

The bridge settled into its steady rhythm. The soft chatter of systems checks and sensor readings filled the air. Outside, the warp field shimmered, blue and white, like an ocean stretching into infinity.

T’Penne’s voice came through the comm from engineering. “Warp field is stable, Captain. Efficiency at 99.8 percent.”

“Excellent,” Harper replied. “Good work, T’Penne.”

Sili turned in her chair toward the captain. “If the Vezda connection proves accurate, this could be the first real artifact linked to their civilization in decades.”

“Indeed,” Harper said. “Starfleet scientists have been trying to understand how their technology integrated with subspace phenomena. This spire might hold answers….or open more questions.”

From his post, Hveir quirked an eyebrow. “Or a trap. I mean, ancient civilizations rarely leave things lying around that don’t bite back.”

Hazel smirked. “Your optimism is inspiring, Hveir.” 

“Realism,” he countered. “Keeps us alive,” he offered a smile.

Harper allowed herself a faint smile. “That’s what makes you a good helmsman, Hveir. But let’s focus on discovery before doom, please.”

Before anyone could respond, Hazel’s console chimed sharply. Her smile faded. “Captain, I’m picking up a signal.”

Sili swiveled toward her. “Distress call?”

Hazel nodded slowly, her fingers flying across the interface. “It’s faint. Scrambled. Origin appears to be…uncharted space, roughly three light-years off our intended course.”

Harper stood. “Put it on audio.”

Static filled the bridge, punctuated by broken words.

“…they’re….coming…shield us from….the dark…..”

Then silence.

Redrol’s brow furrowed. “That didn’t sound like a typical distress transmission.”

“Agreed,” Sili said, running a quick scan. “No starfleet ID code. No recognizable encryption pattern. The frequency is strange. It’s modulated through subspace layers like it’s bouncing between dimensions.”

T’Penne’s calm voice chimed in from engineering again. “Captain, the subspace carrier wave exhibits energy fluctuations similar to those detected from the spire’s location.” 

That caught everyone’s attention.

“So it’s connected,” Harper said softly.

“Possibly,” T’Penne replied. “But the signal’s origin is too unstable to pinpoint without dropping from warp.”

Hveir swiveled in his seat, glancing back over his shoulder. “If we exit warp out there, we’ll be flying blind. No charts, no relay buoys. Just….the dark.”

Hazel looked up from her console. “Captain, Starfleet Command doesn’t have any records of ships or colonies in that region.”

The bridge went quiet. 

Redrol broke the silence. “Could it be a distress call from a lost vessel? Something caught in a subspace rift?”

Sili folded her arms. “Or it’s a trap.”

Harper considered the data on the main display distorted, fragmented, and eerily pulsing with the same rhythm as the Vezda readings. Her instincts tugged in two directions, duty and caution. 

“Captain,” T’Penne’s voice came again, analytical as ever, “if the signal’s origin is related to the spire, investigating may yield valuable data before the energy pattern changes or dissipates.”

Hazel turned, her eyes bright with curiosity. “It might not come again, ma’am. We could lose our only chance to understand what’s causing this.”

Hveir muttered under his breath, “Or get ourselves spaced chasing ghosts.”

Harper turned to him, expression unreadable but not unkind. “Fear acknowledged, Hveir. But remember that Starfleet doesn’t run from the dark.”

He gave a half-smile. “Aye, Captain. Just making sure we don’t fly straight into it without lights.”

“Noted,” she said, then straightened. “Sili, plot a drop-out point one million kilometers short of the signal’s origin. I want a tactical sweep before we move in.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Harper took her seat. “Redrol, prepare Sickbay for possible recovery operations. Hazel, keep trying to clean up that transmission. I want as much clarity as we can get.”

The crew moved in unison, each officer settling into their task. The hum of their ship deepened as it veered off its original course headed into the unknown.

Moments later, the streaks of warp faded, and the Stardust dropped into the quiet black of uncharted space.

The Signal’s Echo

“Now approaching the signal origin,” Hveir reported. “But, uh….there’s nothing out there, Captain. No planetary bodies, no debris, no vessels, Just…empty.”

“Empty space doesn’t broadcast,” Sili said flatly.

“Unless something is hiding in it,” Harper replied.

“Running full-spectrum scans,” Hazel said, tension creeping into her usually bright tone. “The signal’s back. Faint….but repeating.”

The same words filled the bridge again. It was not clearer, as if something was pushing through the static.

“…they’re coming…..shield us from the dark….”

Then a final, chilling fragment:

“….the light must not die…”

Redrol exhaled. “That…sounds almost religious.”

“Or desperate,” Sili said.

Hazel’s console chirped again. “Captain! Something just flashed across our sensors. Power reading and highly unstable. Gone now.”

Harper stood. “Source?”

“Unknown,” Hazel said. “But it’s the same energy pattern as the spire, Captain.”

The bridge lights dimmed slightly as if in response, systems compensating for a brief subspace fluctuation.

T’Penne’s voice came through sharply. “Engineering here. We just experienced a minor power phase distortion across the EPS grid. Compensation now.”

“Could it be external interference?” Harper asked.

“Unclear,” T’Penne said. “But the distinction carried a harmonic resonance. It was almost musical.”

Harper’s gaze flicked to Hazel. “Patch that into audio.”

A haunting hum filled the bridge – soft, resonant, and ancient. It pulsed in rhythm with the distress call. 

“It is like a song,” Hazel whispered quietly.

Redrol frowned. “Or a warning.”

Harper’s drummed her fingers against the side of her leg. “Sili, prepare a probe. Let’s send it into the origin point.”

Moments later, the probe launched into the void. The crew watched the main viewer as it sped toward the coordinates.

Then, without warning, a burst of light flared, brilliant and silent. The probe vanished from sensors. 

“Contact lost,” Hazel said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sili looked up from her console, eyes narrowing. “Captain…that wasn’t an explosion. That was displacement. Something….moved it.”

The hum returned, louder now, resonating through the ship like a heartbeat.

Harper froze, standing rigid. “Record all data. Maintain position,” she spoke. Her voice remained steady despite the chill running through the air.

Hveir glanced back again, more serious now. “Captain, permission to recommend we don’t stay here for too long?”

Harper gave him a small, wry smile. “Recommendation noted.”

The hum faded. The void returned to silence.

Harper took a slow breath. “Helm, set a course to the spire system. Let’s see if whatever is happening here started there.”

As the Stardust turned toward the unknown, Harper looked around her bridge – each officer focused, alert, and united. The stars outside seemed to shift, distant light bending ever so slightly around the space that they had just left.

And though the signal had gone silent, its final words lingered in her mind:

Shield us from the dark.