Tea, biscuits, and transporters. That was all the senior staff of the USS Iphigenia was worried about, instead of more pressing concerns such as their patrol assignment. The ship was in orbit of a large M class planet, having rendezvoused with the USS Magicienne a day prior. On paper, the exchange between the two ships was for supplies, but with both ships just out of Spacedock only a week prior, an informed officer knew that the meeting was likely for some other frivolous reason; after all, the Magicienne was Admiral Key’s flagship, and Key was a well-known friend of Captain Livingstone. The rendezvous did, however, provide the unique opportunity to work out some of the kinks from the ship’s recent refit. As it was now, they were preparing to receive members of Admiral Key’s staff for afternoon tea. 

But within the next hour, no crumpets would be served, and no transporters would be fixed. 

Tate Noelle was on the bridge of the Iphigenia, keeping the captain’s seat warm while he had his chat with the admiral aboard his shiny new starship. She smiled to herself at the image of the contrasting vessels on the viewscreen; one of Starfleet’s oldest, cobbling repairs together even after a refit, and one of its newest, pulled alongside together. The image wasn’t dissimilar to early 20th century newspaper comparisons of fleets. For her, the most pressing concern was getting transporters back online. It was a downright embarrassment for the entire crew when the captain had to be shuttled over to meet the admiral, and Tate would not be caught dead having the transporters still down when Key and his staff were to to come aboard. 

“Commander, we’ve just received a subspace message from Starfleet headquarters. It’s for the captain.” 

Tate looked up from her tablet. Any message received at this point was certainly unusual. In a sporting mood, she joked back to the communications officer. “It’s probably Starfleet calling to cancel teatime. Hail the Magicienne and tell them Captain Livingstone has a message from Starfleet.” 

The middle-aged communications officer raised his eyebrow, shaking his head. “Commander, they’re hailing [i]us.[/i]”

“Onscreen.” 

The image of the Magicienne in orbit above the M class planet switched to the bridge of the Sovereign-class vessel. The Admiral and Livingstone were in view alongside the rest of the bridge crew. Almost immediately, the admiral began to speak, pithy and to-the-point as usual.

“At 1300 hours, Starfleet received a distress signal from Ceylon IV, a Federation Science outpost. They’ve detected a large spatial anomaly near the Ceylon star that threatens to disrupt the system. The nearest vessels are to investigate –Proceed to the Ceylon system immediately. We are sending over the data we know. As your transporters are offline, Livingstone will remain on my ship. Magicienne, out.” 

As soon as the transmission ended, the USS Magicienne jumped into warp, leaving a bemused bridge crew to prepare to leave orbit. Tate shook her head. She had met the man several times, and found him overly abrasive, especially so for a man that was fairly familiar with the senior officers. It took a bit of an effort to stop herself from commenting on the man on the bridge as she tapped her combadge to speak with the ship’s chief engineer Yuri Khamitov down in Engineering.

“Yuri, what’s our status on the warp drive?” 

The response came back in Yuri’s usual heavy Russian accent. “All ready to go, commander. Warp drive diagnostics are complete and indicate no problems.”
“Great,” replied Tate, before turning to the helmsman. “Plot a course for the Ceylon system at high warp.”

--

The chaos started the moment they dropped out of warp. Within seconds, the ship sheared towards the massive spatial anomaly, tumbling towards the phenomenon like a children’s plaything. Aboard the Iphigenia, the ship’s computerized klaxon bells blared as it entered a red alert state. The ship’s officers scrambled to take control of the situation. 

“Shields up! Get us about and take us out at full warp!” yelled Tate Noelle, as she clung to bridge railing, struggling to maintain her balance. “I want a full sensor sweep on that anomaly. I need data on that, ASAP.”

“Commander Noelle, warp drives are offline.” Nephenee Harper’s hands glided over her console as she scrolled over the sensor readings with a calm expression that betrayed the situation. “The anomaly appears to be some sort of phenomenon sharing similar characteristics to a supermassive black hole, but it is incredibly small and stable for the amount of force that it’s exerting. I would say it would be a highly unusual variant of a singularity had it not appeared in the middle of the Ceylon system. At this rate, the system would be consumed in 3.5 hours. Even if we had warp drive at full operational capacity, escape is probably impossible.”

Tate stifled herself from muttering a long string of expletives. 

“I do have a suggestion, however,” continued the science officer, “The rapid energy extraction of the zero-point vacuum quantum torpedoes may destabilize the anomaly enough to allow for an escape vector under full impulse. I honestly have no clue what would happen should it fail, however. We may risk the entire star system--“

There was no other option available to them. The only other alternative was to do nothing, which would result in the destruction of the system and the ship, regardless. They probably couldn’t count on external aid either; evidence pointed to the Magicienne being sucked in, and the Hood was still five minutes away at high warp.

“There’s no other choice. Do it. Load torpedo bays and fire on my mark,” said Tate, doing her best to address the tactical officer as she returned to her seat.

The ship continued to lurch towards the unknown phenomenon. 

“Fire.”

For the second time, all hell broke loose as two heavily damaged Federation vessels appeared in unknown space.