Chapter 8

I walked onto the bridge at 0545 the following morning and was intercepted by the duty communications officer.

“Sir, Admiral Simmons has sent a secure video message, and he is preparing the secure comm now. There’s maybe a five to seven minute window,” the lieutenant said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” I said. “Pipe it on into my ready room, if you would, please.”

“Yes, sir,” the young lieutenant said. I went into my ready room, closed the hatch, and poured a cup of fresh hot coffee from the dispenser, choosing one of the caramel-flavored coffee pods. I savored the hot brew as I took my first morning sip. As I sat down, my wrist communicator pinged, and I looked and saw it was Jim.

“Good morning, Number One. I trust you had a restful night,” I joked.

“Very restful, sir,” Jim replied, and even through the small screen, I could see the blush. I imagine he must have some unique and detailed ... insights ... into the civilization which had sent the Tere into interstellar space. I would probably need to ask Kyra about tactful ways to inquire about that interaction, as it might set the tone for all future relations.

“I’m just calling to let you know we’re preparing to leave the Tere now, and should be on the Enterprise before long,” Jim added. “I need to shower and change into my flight suit before reporting to the bridge. And I could use some breakfast.”

“That would be a good idea, Number One. The omelets are exceptional this morning. As always,” I told him.

“Good. Maybe I’ll have one delivered to my quarters. By the way, Mishita and their head scientist, K’ew, are coming as well. They seem open to working with us, and they’re bringing one of their prototypes for the engineers to study.”

“So, it sounds like you had a fruitful visit over there,” I said. “Good. I look forward to seeing you. I have a secure comm coming in, so I’d better get to it. Thank you for checking in.”

“My pleasure, sir, and thank you for the liberty,” Jim said. We ended the comm, and I saw the notification on my desk computer that the secure link with Star Fleet Command was being initiated. I pressed my thumb to the identification plate so it could read my print and waited for the connection to clear.

“Good morning, Bill,” Alan said when the video cleared up.

“Good morning, Admiral.”

“I read your report, and I must say, it was quite ... comprehensive,” Alan said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Listen, Bill. I’d love to shoot the breeze with you over all this, but unfortunately, we don’t have much time, so I’ll get right to it. Senator Jacoby has been riding my ass ever since you entered the exclusion zone. He’s pressuring me to open that space up,” Alan said.

“Does he know it’s not safe for human travel?”

“I told him. I even showed him some of the pictures you sent with your report. But he’s adamant. He wants that area opened up immediately if not sooner.”

“Why?” I asked.

“He claims it’s vital for shipping and travel.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Admiral. We’ve just started exploring this area of space. And the ships that have been here have already been affected.”

“I know, Bill. But it’s not my job to question the Senator’s motives, Captain. Privately, I agree with you. Bottom line – do you feel you can trust these Gingravik?”

“Yes, sir, I believe I can. So far, they’ve been very forthcoming with information. In fact, their commander and one of their top scientists are coming to the Enterprise to speak with my staff,” I said.

“Really? That is remarkable. What are your impressions of these people?”

“They’re not what one might think an extraterrestrial being might look like, that’s for sure. And I still have some pressing questions.” I had been wrestling with yesterday’s casual revelation that our fellow star travelers had taken 24 female human embryos from Earth and that human females were viewed as prime, prized mates for this alien species.

Granted, they were quite ... civilized, highly advanced, and more progressive from my point of view. And they seemed to hold this Queen Tere – a human female mated to one of their own – in very high regard. Still, I had no idea how my crew might view all that or even what I thought about it.

“I can understand that. I’ve addressed some of those in the message I sent you earlier.” The video glitched for a moment, and I knew the window was about to close. So did Alan. “We’re about to lose our window, Captain. Do what you need to do. I’m giving you a lot of latitude in this. Solve this problem so I can open that sector back up, as soon as possible. Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied as the video glitched again.

“Admiral Simmons, out.” The feed cut, and I found myself staring at a blank monitor. What the hell did Jacoby mean by this area is vital for shipping? I sensed there was something neither Alan nor I were being told, but I probably wouldn’t get an answer out here. I warmed up my coffee and brought up Alan’s previous secure communication.

“Good morning, Bill,” Alan said in the video communication. “I just finished your latest report, and I must say I am just a bit overwhelmed. It goes without saying that the age-old question of whether or not we’re alone in the universe has been answered.

“Of course, I always suspected we might encounter an alien species at some point, but I never expected anything like this. It’s rather fortuitous that you were able to establish communication so quickly. I’m reminded of something I once read – ‘Beginnings are such delicate times.’

“I was particularly interested in the claim that 25 female human embryos were taken from Earth some 90 years ago. Based on what you reported, I believe that would have been about the time Russia invaded Ukraine back in 2022.

“There’s not a lot of information about that conflict, thanks to the Internet hack in the last century, but I did check the available archives. From what I could glean, the whole Russian Federation experienced a complete power outage shortly after the invasion that put the operation on hold. To this day, no one has ever been able to explain how that happened.

“The situation in Russia deteriorated rather quickly, from what I learned, and the president at the time, Vladimir Putin, was reported missing for a while, which prompted several threats. Not that they could do anything about it – they had no power, and nothing worked, not even gas-powered generators. People were literally pulling cars and buses with teams of horses if you can believe that.

“Eventually, the Russian people got tired of a government that couldn’t keep the lights on and removed Putin from power in a special election. He supposedly ended up in one of Russia’s worst prisons, where he eventually died.

“As you can imagine, there was a lot of speculation and more than one conspiracy theory about that whole incident. Some even suggested the power outage was caused by aliens if you can believe that. I can’t help but wonder if your Gingravik friends may know more about that whole incident. I’ve attached a document summarizing what we know of that period for your review.

“I’ve also reached out to the Defense Intelligence Agency, and I have an appointment with someone the day after tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll learn something that might help unravel this mystery. And I’ll be meeting with the heads of Star Fleet Science and Engineering to see if we can come up with something you might be able to use against these Darnok.

“Senator Jacoby is hot to see this sector of space opened back up. I’ll hit you up with this when we talk. For some reason, he seems to think that once you got on-site, the situation would be under control,” Alan said. I listened for several minutes as he remarked on various aspects of my report. He finally wrapped it up.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us, Bill,” Alan said. “I’m impressed with how you’ve handled this situation so far. Keep me in the loop. When you get back, we’ll need to discuss our protocols and assignments going forward. Admiral Simmons, out.” The video ended, and I sat back, considering his words. A few minutes later, the chime on the hatch sounded off.

“Enter,” I stated, loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. The door slid back, and Jim entered the ready room, followed by Mishita and one of the Gingravik, which I assumed was K’ew, the scientist she told me about earlier. I was relieved to see Mishita was covered up more than she was the previous day, but her curvaceous form was still quite apparent.

“Good morning, Captain,” Jim said. “You know Commander Mishita, and this is K’ew, head scientist of the Tere.”

“Good morning, Commander,” I said. “A pleasure to meet you, Q.”

“That’s K’ew,” Mishita corrected.

“My apologies,” I said. “Would you care for something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“What is ... coffee?” Mishita asked.

“It’s the Captain’s life support,” Jim said with a wry smile. “It’s hot, bitter, and guaranteed to keep you awake for hours.” I chuckled at that.

“I thought you liked my coffee, Number One,” I said, feigning outrage. “You drink enough of it,” I added as I poured him a cup from the dispenser. Jim smiled as he took the cup.

“I will sample some of your hot bitter liquid,” Mishita said boldly. I poured a cup and handed it to her.

“You’re a courageous woman, Mish,” Jim said jokingly to lighten the atmosphere.

“Careful. That’s quite hot,” I said, handing her the cup. She took a tentative sip and her brows furrowed.

“What is that flavor?” she asked.

“Caramel,” I said. “One of my favorites. Captain’s privilege, you know. Would you like some creamer?”

“Yes, I would,” she said. I poured enough to give the coffee some extra flavor and stirred it into the cup. She took another sip and nodded her head. “That is quite good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “K’ew? Would you like something?”

“No, thank you, Captain. I do not require liquid refreshment at the moment,” the Gingravik said through his speakers. Just then, Kyra, Marco, and the other section heads began entering the ready room. They took their seats and looked at each other as they wondered about the two alien visitors. As professionals, none said anything, waiting for formal introductions.

“Thank you for coming this morning,” I said. “Let me introduce our visitors. This is Senior Commander Mishita of the Gingravik cruiser Tere, and K’ew, head science officer.” I introduced each of my officers to our guests and started the briefing.

To their credit, they all listened quietly as I summarized what I knew so far. Mishita and K’ew only spoke when I asked for clarification. I could almost hear the mental gears turning when I finished.

“Do you have one of your prototypes with you?” Lt. Commander Chet Samuels, the head engineer, asked K’ew.

“Yes, I brought one with me,” the Gingravik said as Mishita opened a compartment on his cart. She pulled out what looked like a head covering with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth and handed it to Chet. He scrutinized it before giving it to the officer next to him. I looked it over when it came to me and noticed an almost invisible mesh covering the mouth, nose, and eye holes.

“This looks like some kind of Faraday cage for the brain,” Chet told K’ew when I handed the prototype back to him.

“I am not familiar with that term,” the plant-scientist replied.

“It’s basically a shield – an enclosure used to block electromagnetic fields,” Chet explained. K’ew seemed to consider Chet’s words, then seemed to nod his penis-like appendages in approval.

“That is a good analogy,” K’ew said.

“Do you know the frequency of the Darnok brain waves?” Lt. Commander Hastings, the chief comm officer, asked.

“Frequency?” K’ew asked. He considered the term for a few moments before responding. “Ah, the cyclic rate of the transmission. Yes, we do,” K’ew said, shaking his leaves. “I do not know how to translate it into something you can understand, but it is roughly twice that of the humanoid brain.”

“That would be about 50 Hz, maximum,” Kyra said. “There must be a tremendous amount of power pushing it.”

“The power level is quite high,” K’ew agreed.

“If we put our heads together, I’m sure we can figure this out, Captain,” Chet said. Commander Hastings and Kyra agreed.

“How will combining craniums help?” K’ew asked, causing some to chuckle.

“That’s a figure of speech,” I explained. “It simply means if we work together, we can find a solution.”

“Ah, I understand now,” K’ew said. “As I’m sure you can ascertain, I am not equipped with a cranium the way you are.”

“The primary organ of the Gingravik central nervous system is at the base of their primary stalk,” Mashita explained.

“Which means their brains do not have the protection ours do,” chimed Lt. Commander Sheila Carson, the ship’s botanist.

“Very true,” K’ew agreed.

“So, what is the problem?” Chet asked.

“We do not have the ability to mass produce these in the field in the numbers required to get the Tere close enough to T-107,” K’ew said. Chet looked at the others, then at me, before speaking.

“Captain, we have a huge stock of silver-infused titanium at the base normally used for printing replacement parts. Once we have the specs, we could simply print these out using our 3D printers,” Chet said. The other engineers agreed, and I considered the options before deciding.

“Very well, Commander. Work with K’ew and his people, get the specifications and let’s print some of these things out – at least enough to test the system.”

“Yes, sir,” Chet said. One of the fundamental problems I saw right off dealt with terminology. It was clear we could speak the exact words. Still, some, like technical terms used by our engineers, were utterly different or had different meanings. Hell, even I knew the definition of “frequency,” and I’m not an engineer or comm specialist. But did K’ew understand the term? Even if he did, did he comprehend our time measurement, or did he use the same numerical system?

I understood that humans used base ten mathematics because we have ten fingers. Did the Gingravik use base twelve because of their – appendages? Or something else? I was confident my engineers were up to the challenge; I just had to keep them grounded and focused on the goal.

“Commander Mishita, I would like for our respective crews to work together on this. We’ll need to know everything you know about these Darnok. The first thing we need to do is learn enough of each other’s technology and metrics so we can operate on the same page.”

“Same ... page?” my Gingravik counterpart asked, confused.

“We need to better understand each other’s language, terminology, and abilities,” Jim explained. “That way we can ... interface more efficiently.”

“I think I understand what you’re getting at,” Mishita said. “And I agree, Captain. Perhaps a temporary exchange of personnel would be in order while K’ew and your engineers work together.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Commander,” I said. Turning to my officers, I added, “Select one mid-level member of your staff for temporary reassignment to the Tere. Have them report to the shuttle bay by mid-shift.”

“How long will this reassignment last?” Chet asked.

“I want at least three crew members from each section to have spent a full 24 hours on the Tere by the time we depart for the base,” I said. “Will that give you sufficient time to work things out?”

“I ... think so, Captain,” Chet said.

“I think that will work for us as well,” Mishita said. “We will do the same.” She turned to K’ew, and I noticed the plant-being had wrapped a tendril around her head. I saw her nod a couple times, and the plant shook his leaves. I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but I surmised it was their form of communication. K’ew removed the tendril, and Mishita looked back at me.

“We agree, Captain,” she said. “And it is done.”

“Good,” I said. “Alright, you have your directions. Get to it. Senior Commander, I’d like to speak with you and K’ew after everyone else leaves, if you don’t mind. Number One, Kyra, please remain.”

“Of course, Captain,” she said. Jim and Kyra echoed Mishita’s acknowledgment, and the others left the ready room. The room now empty, I turned to Mishita.

“Commander, I have a couple questions that have been nagging me ever since last night,” I said. “I’m hoping you can provide some answers.”

“I’ll do my best, Captain. You understand that like you, we have our ... secrets.”

“I understand and respect that, Commander. As long as your secrets do not jeopardize my ship or crew or mission, I have no interest in prying. I am sure there is much we can leave for later. From what I saw in the report you gave me yesterday, it appeared your ship was headed directly for that planet. I was just wondering what that ship of yours was doing so close to T-107.” Mishita and K’ew looked at each other for a moment before she turned back to me.

“The Klagg was not a standard cruiser, Captain,” she said. “It was a ... resource collection and transportation vessel. It was sent to T-107 to collect a load of quadrillium.”

“Quadrillium?” I asked.

“Quadrillium is a highly efficient and clean source of power, Captain,” K’ew explained. “Its crystalline structure absorbs and stores radiant energy, such as emitted by most stars. Several systems in this region are known to have large deposits of the material.” Interesting, I thought. A germ of an idea began to form in my mind, but I kept it to myself, at least for now.

“Who else uses it?” I asked.

“There are several civilizations that rely on it for power. It can be replicated, but only imperfectly, so far. The natural substance is far more efficient, and quite superior,” K’ew said.

“So this ship, the Klagg, was basically a mining ship. And it was sent here, knowing the dangers it faced from the Darnok? That doesn’t make sense.”

“The vessel’s shields were adjusted,” K’ew said. “We ... hoped that would have been sufficient, but apparently, we were wrong.”

“Why not just reason with the Darnok? Maybe if they understood your need for it or if they saw a reason to let your people in, they might not have attacked. Is there anything they might accept in trade?”

“One does not reason with a Darnok, Captain,” K’ew told me. Even through the speaker, the tone was somber. “One would be better off trying to reason with the hot liquid in your container. They operate strictly on instinct. They are driven by their relentless, ravenous hunger, and their libido, which is matched only by ours.”

“So they’re not an intelligent or organized species,” I theorized.

“Correct, Captain,” K’ew said.

“That still doesn’t make sense to me. If your command knew of the Darnok before the Klagg arrived, why didn’t they take additional precautions?” I asked.

“The Darnok exist only in the area immediately surrounding the border between light and dark,” K’ew said. I knew he was referring to the terminator. “The planet’s orbit is such that one side always faces the star, while the other side faces away. The quadrillium is located in select areas on the side facing the star, where it absorbs the star’s emissions. Away from the Darnok.”

“And who collects this material?” I asked. I was shocked to think they would send people to that part of the planet, knowing what they would be exposed to. The solar radiation would cook them in very short order, even with heavily-reinforced suits.

“The ship was equipped with remote collection vehicles, operated safely from above the planet’s surface, Captain. We are Gingravik. We are not barbarians. We would never knowingly expose anyone to that environment,” K’ew said testily.

“The Klagg would normally have approached the planet from the light side, Captain,” Mishita said. “There is a small corridor that allows ships to approach without drawing the attention of the Darnok. The glare of the star is too ... intense ... for the Darnok, and the vessel would have remained hidden.”

“And any deviation from that corridor could have drawn their attention,” I mused out loud.

“Yes, Captain,” K’ew said. I had a sudden thought, and I didn’t like it. But I knew I needed to ask anyway.

“And this is something you’ve done many times before, correct?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mishita said. “Why do you ask?”

“Is it possible that ship was sabotaged?” I asked.

“I do not understand – what is sabotaged?” K’ew asked.

“Deliberately damaged, to make it crash,” I said. Mishita’s face turned white, and if the Gingravik next to her could turn a paler shade of green, he might have.

“Why would anyone do such a thing?” Mishita asked.

“Why, indeed?” I asked in return. “Do you have ... I don’t know what you might call it ... telemetry – signals or data from the Klagg before it crashed?”

“I believe I understand what you are asking,” Mishita said, reflecting on my question. “Yes, every ship has a device that records flight events. The information from that might still be available. I will look into that, and pass on what I can. Do you believe this was done on purpose?”

“I don’t know. It is only one possible explanation. But I intend to find out. My commanding officer has been pressured to open this sector of space back up for some reason. Maybe it’s connected to your crash. Maybe not.”

“Do you believe that a Gingravik may have ... conspired with someone on your planet to make this happen?” K’ew asked.

“Anything is possible,” I said. K’ew shook his leaves, and I didn’t need to understand Gingravik to tell he was visibly upset.

“This is NOT the Gingravik way,” he snarled through his speakers.

Great, I thought sarcastically. Two days into first contact, and I’m already alienating the aliens. And we needed each other. “No offense was intended,” I responded, as mildly as possible. “It’s just my training to consider all possible alternatives as carefully as possible before acting.”

Well, I admitted to myself I was usually brash and headstrong and noted for unequal measures of action and thought, but putting our best foot forward seemed like a good idea. Firmly refusing to think about what my guests would make of the phrase ‘best foot forward,’ I added, “Any subterfuge could easily be on the human side.”

“I assure you, Captain, I will do everything in my power to help get to the bottom of this,” Mishita said. “I’ll contact my superiors and get that data.”

“Thank you, Commander,” I said. “There’s one other thing I’d like your assistance with.”

“What’s that?” Mishita asked.

“I was wondering if you could listen to the transmissions we intercepted?” I asked.

“Yes, we can do that,” my Gingravik counterpart said. I pulled up the audio from the transmissions and played it, and Mishita and K’ew listened intently before speaking.

“Is that from your people?” I asked.

“It sounds Gingravik,” Mishita said. “But it’s been ... I think you would call it ... encycled, perhaps?”

“You mean, encrypted?” I asked.

“Yes, that,” Mishita said. “Without the proper code, it would be impossible to understand what is being said.”

“Can you find out anything about these transmissions?”

“Yes, all long-distance communications are recorded and logged. I’ll make some inquiries and see what I can learn,” Mishita said.

“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate that,” I said.

“We’d better get back to the Tere, Captain. We have much to do. I hope to see you again, very soon, Jim,” Mishita said.