Distress Signal

[Cptn Corizon 0]

It had been just over one hour and twenty-five minutes since the new Dominion representative arrived on Starbase Camelot. Lt. Jules Olien had been at the communications station since 0700 this morning, and his duty shift was almost finished. With the exception of the arrival of the newest flavor of Vorta—thus far a quite day, which was more and more becoming a rarity on this station. If it wasn’t rebel Founders kidnapping flag officers of the Federation, it was Romulans invading star systems or Klingon Governors killing Vorta.

 

Olien leaned back into his chair with a sigh. What ever had possessed him to take this posting in the first place? He could be, right now, happily tucked in an alcove on Starbase 479 or on a science ship in the Rantar Rift. But instead, he was setting atop a powder keg with a bunch of green-blooded, pointy-eared fools ready to light up the entire galaxy like the Fourth of July (or First, as the case might be.)

 

Regardless, he was here now…and he might as well make the best of it. At least on Camelot there was never a lack of excitement.

 

“Finally,” Olien said aloud, to no one in particular. “A day where nothing goes wrong.”

 

Lt. Commander Cjaz-Ki, a rather tall and burly golden skinned Danterian, had been standing a few feet away monitoring the tactical sensors. “Let’s hope so.”

 

The two smirked at each and continued about their duties. “Have we heard anything from Excalibur,” Cjaz-Ki said after a few minutes.

 

“Not since I have been on shift.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“My understanding is their on tactical maneuvers and won’t be reporting back until they actually come back.”

 

“You believe that?”

 

“No,” Olien smirked. “But I am not going to worry to much about it. I am sure it’s nothing too big or Admiral Day wouldn’t have let his new Commander leave him behind.”

 

Cjaz-Ki smirked ever so slighty, “You’ve got a point.”

 

Just as Olien had began to get ready to turn the comm. Station over to the Ensign on the next shift, he realized he’d spoke to soon. Crap. Flashing blue lights…distress call.

 

“Commander,” Olien said. “I am getting a very faint distress call.”

 

“Source of origin?” Cjaz-Ki said tapping quickly on his panel bringing up the tactical version of what Olien was detecting.

“Sector 34K.”

 

“Why kind of distress call is it?”

 

“Attempting to ascertain now.”

 

Olien ran his fingers over the consol quickly tapping series of command after series. Distress signals had individual carrier signatures that let the receiver know what kind of vessel was sending the distress call…well they did in the Alpha Quadrant anyway.

 

“It’s Federation…”

 

Cjak-Ki furrowed his brow deeply and tapped his comm. badge. “Commander Sprint, Captain Sorehl please report to the Command center.”

 

“I have a positive ID on the carrier signature,” Olien said. “It’s coming from a Type 11 shuttle.”

 

“A type 11…what is a type 11 doing out that far.”

 

“The distress signal itself is very week, I can’t actually make out any of it’s contents. The signal degraded too much before we could receive it, I am only picking up it’s residual message.”

 

“A type 11 is based from a Starship.”

 

“Yes, it is. I am attempting to match the carrier signature with Federation vessels in the area.”

 

The consol in front of him beeped. It had found which ship owned the shuttle sending the distress call. Olien looked down…his face went white.

 

“Have you found something?”

 

“Y…e…s…”

 

“Well??”

 

Olien blinked a few more times. “You might want to have Admiral Day up here as well…”