In the empty space far above the harsh sands of Tatooine, a shimmering point of energy appeared, hanging in space. Slowly, lazily, the point expanded in two directions to create a line. When the line reached the correct length it expanded, again in two directions, forming a translucent square of energy in space. It flickered between cool blue and vibrant golden-yellow, and for a moment simply hung in space. When the moment passed the square of energy began to move, tracing the path of a perfect rectangular prism through space. Quickly extending from the trailing edge of the plane of energy, as though it were always there and the energy were simply revealing its presence, first an array of sensor spines, then the blunt prow of a ship. In a short time, an entire ship had been deposited by the flickering pane of energy, and when it was clear of the ships stern it repeated the process that had brought it into existence, only in reverse, winking out of existence as suddenly and inexplicably as it had been created.

The scene on the ships bridge as it exited Hyperspace was chaotic. The moment the Hyperspace Core shut off the entire ship shook violently for a few seconds, the effects of coming out of Hyperspace too close to the planet's gravity well. Crewmen were thrown across the bridge, lights flickered as power was disrupted and in the middle of it all, the aging Captain Saalen Mannaan fought valiantly to remain standing - a battle he lost. When the shaking subsided, Saalen unceremoniously picked himself up and dusted down his uniform before surveying his bridge. The bridge crew were slowly picking themselves up, some far slower than others. Saalen tapped the communicator on his lapel, a small device in the shape of the Angel Moon insignia of the Hiigaran fleet “Medical team to the Bridge.” He said quickly. No doubt the medical teams would be needed everywhere right now, but much of the ship could operate without crew as long as the bridge could co-ordinate it. It was paramount his Bridge crew be in the best possible condition to deal with whatever threat they were facing. As people scrambled back to their stations, at least those that weren’t too injured to do so, he spoke again, his voice firm and commanding. “Report. Sensors, Damage control. Tell me where we are and what condition we’re in.”

As his officers worked, he strode to the large window that made up the front the bridge. The view was wrong. All wrong. Gone were the vibrant colours of space, and the massive silhouette of the Progenitor Hyperspace gate the ship had been studying. Instead, he was faced with a plane of blackness filled with tiny points of light - the kind of view one only saw if they looked to the edge of the galaxy. On the edge of the view, far below the ship, the pale sands of a desert planet could be seen. It was not a planet Saalen had ever seen.

“Sir” The voice of his damage control officer broke his reverie, a young dark-skinned man from Kiith Paktu. “Minor structural damage to all systems consistent with forced exit from Hyperspace. The Hyperspace Core is offline and the wake jump module reports major damage.” He paused for a moment, evidently listening to more damage reports coming in from other sections of the ship. The sensor officer, a Manaani woman whose voice never seemed to take on any real emotion, a character trait apparently required in Fleet Intelligence officers, capitalised on the moment. “Captain, the ship has dropped out of hyperspace in a completely unknown part of the galaxy. None of the stars match any constellations on record and the planet beneath us is not on record. We are not detecting the other ships in the flotilla, but we are not detecting any wreckage either. We are detecting three other large structures nearby. Two of them appear to be Mothership class vessels of unknown origin.” The moment she stopped talking the damage control officer continued his report. “Sir the primary and secondary manufacturing plants have suffered heavy damage. They are both offline, damage control teams are working to ascertain the extent of the damage. Tertiary facilities reporting that they’ll be active again in a few minutes. The frigate berth has suffered severe damage but the fighter launch bay is reporting readiness. Corvette Launch bay estimates fifteen minutes for readiness. Recovery bays are also undamaged, and report readiness. Hyperspace Core should be online again in thirty minutes.” Saalen simply nodded at his officers reports. The ship was in a bad way. As a carrier, the Tor-Selim was meant to support a fleet, largely through the use of its many bays and manufacturing plants, but with the majority of those out of action, there would be very little fleet supporting going on. Saalen just considered himself lucky to still have sensors and a way to launch the fighter compliment. That and apparently no hostiles bearing down on them.

Saalen turned away from the window and looked over his bridge as he began to issue orders. Just because the ships primary functionality was crippled didn’t mean she was helpless. “I want all strike craft on stand by for launch -” Saalen was cut off as the voice of Fleet Intelligence once again rang out. “One of the Mothership class vessels has begun to move away from us. It appears to be launching fighter craft.” A curse escaped Saalen’s lips as he turned to look at the large spherical holographic projection in the center of the bridge. He leant against the guardrail - the projection spanned two decks, extending into the CIC below them where the majority of the Fleet Intelligence officers worked to keep its projection up to date and relevant. He could hear the noise of their frantic discussion below. The holographic projection showed the fll area that the ships sensors covered, though could be easily manipulated to show parts of it in detail. Saalen zoomed the projection in on the Mothership as it moved away. It was an odd shape, presently coloured yellow within the projection. It had a myriad of yellow dots flying around it in formation, seemingly a defensive formation. “Launch interceptors, assume a defensive formation.” Saalen said, knowing that the order would be heard by the right crewman.

Almost immediately a the order was acknowledged, Fleet Intelligence made yet another announcement. “We’re receiving a signal. It appears to be coming from the active Mothership class vessel.” Moments passed before CIC determined that it was an audio transmission and played it over the bridge speakers. It sounded strangely similar to one of the dialects used by a member race of the Vaygr. Saalen couldn’t place what was being said, but he gathered that it was probably a request for identification. A broadcast like that was close to the top of his own priorities after all. He tapped his communicator again and looked over at the comms officer. When the officer nodded Saalen began to speak. “This is the Hiigaran vessel Tor-Selim. We are peaceful explorers and do not seek conflict, but we will respond in kind if attacked.” First contact was not really Saalen’s specialty, but Ariel, his first officer and diplomat, had not yet arrived on the bridge. He looked at the comms officer again and gave additional orders. “I want that message translated into the nearest dialect we have to the incoming transmission and sent back on the same frequency.”

Almost the moment after he finished, Ariel Manaan finally arrived on the bridge. She looked worse for the wear, battered and bruised, a small cut above one eye that had been hastily patched, probably by the med team in the halls outside the bridge. It was evident she had hastily thrown her uniform on and was still fastening the last few buttons even as she rushed onto the bridge. As was standard practice, the reports and status of the ship had been relayed to her already by fleet intelligence the better to ensure efficiency in command. “You have the bridge Ariel.” He said as he began to leave. “Kira, get to the bridge immediately. I want answers.” He said into his communicator as he strode off his bridge into the ship's corridors. He had no doubt that he poking and prodding of the hyperspace gate had somehow caused all this and he needed to know how to get back to where they were.

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Kira S’jet was in fact already on the way to the ships bridge when the order came through. Not to talk to the Captain though. He was bright enough for his job, but like all military men in command positions, he was always asking questions of scientists about things he wouldn’t understand anyway. She was simply on her way to the CIC, to make use of the efficient data analysis and interrogate some of the sensor specialists. As she rounded the corner to the bridge, she very nearly collided with the captain, who had apparently decided he had no faith in her and come to seek her out. If it were anyone else she might’ve simply kept going and ignored them, but the captain would just follow her if she did that. Instead she gave him a withering glare and waited for his inevitable inane questions. “What happened Kira?” He asked. She didn’t really know the specifics of it herself yet but she still had an answer for him. “You dropped us out of hyperspace next a planet.” The response was instant and defensive as she expected. “I didn’t- Dammit, Never mind. Whatever it is you’ve done has dropped us in the middle of an unknown fleet of very large ships. I need you to come and translate their languages so we live long enough to start assigning the blame.” Kira sighed. Surely he could find someone else to do such mundane work. Of course she was smart enough, but there were better things to do than translation. Like analysing the data from the hyperspace journey, or scanning the area to find any possible leftover anomalies from the unusual jump. “Find someone else. You have plenty of qualified S’jet in Fleet Intelligence for that. I’m going to do what I came here to do. Study Hyperspace.” She tried to push past the captain and continue to the CIC, but the captain caught her by the arm and turned her to face him. “The man responsible for that just got taken out of there on a stretcher. Now if you want to live long enough to study hyperspace, you’ll translate the languages of the people pointing guns at us.” Kira pulled away from him the moment his grip loosened, her unhappiness evident on her face. “Don’t touch me.” Was all she said before storming off to the CIC, already starting to think in terms of language.