Portar, the Benzite scientist, emerged from the turbo lift. He quickly walked around the bridge looking over the shoulders of the on duty crewmen as he evaluated each of their efforts. He passed in front of Captain Dorra d’Hexplora before taking a seat beside her. He leaned towards her and said, “The experiment is ready. It’s time to begin, Captain. May we proceed?”
Finley and Dorra d’Hexplora were onboard the Delta Flyer type shuttle craft with a security team in tow as they barreled through the wormhole towards it’s exit aperture. Dorra was at the stick and worked it with unwavering concentration; Finley was at her side navigating the various eddies and ensuring that they had the smoothest ride possible; while the security team was in the rear compartment, checking and rechecking their gear. The Captain had not shared much about the situation that they were entering, except that they had to be prepared for anything. There had been talk about a major diplomatic incident brewing because of Portar’s little experiment. Others had said that he suffered a major break down and was in sick bay being treated for anxiety. Regardless of what had happened, they had their orders and they would give up their lives in order to protect their Captain.
“How long until we reach the other side?” Dorra asked.
Without taking his eyes from the navigation censors, Finley replied, “We’re approaching it fast – standby to exit the wormhole.”
Almost on cue, the wormhole opened and spat the tiny shuttle out. Burning debris was everywhere, and Dorra had to take evasive maneuvers to avoid colliding with a hunk of scrap that was larger than the delta flyer itself. Once the immediate danger had passed, she set a course away from the exploding debris and headed straight for its alien counterpart. “Open a channel to that ship. It’s time to try and rectify this mess that we have made.”
“Aye, Captain,” Finley said as he opened the channel and nodded in her direction to indicate that he was ready.
“This is Captain Dorra d’Hexplora of the Federation vessel USS Mona Lisa. Please come in,” she waited for a response. After a moment, she asked turning towards him, “Any response from the vessel?”
Finley was staring at the sensor read out with a surprised expression on his face.
“What is it?”
“They’ve launched what appears to be fighter craft.”
“How many?” Dorra asked. When no response came back, she demanded to know. “Mr. Finley, how ma—“ Her voice lost its power, when she saw a pestilence of angry locusts heading straight for them.
“Sensors register more than two hundred heavily armed fighters heading this way fast. They’re weapons are hot.”
“Can we out run them?” Dorra asked, as she began to throttle back on the stick.
Dorra let go of the flight yoke and engaged reverse thrusters to bring the shuttle to a complete stop. “Hail the vessel with our surrender.” She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and sighed heavily. This was simply turning out not to be her day.