Fractures in the Accord

Posted on 28 Sep 2025 @ 6:14pm by Captain Sabrina Corbin

1,408 words; about a 7 minute read

OOC: As I mentioned last week, I unfortunately will be on a very busy work travel this week and will be widely unavailable. I hope this gives you all something to do this week. Whatever trouble you want to run into is up to you all :) Have fun. There is a one day time jump in here, and Sickbay is no longer on quarantine on their arrival to Tarvik III.

*** Bridge USS Arawyn ***

The trail was faint, but the crumbs were there: distorted subspace echoes, power spikes too regular to be natural. Piece by piece, Ensign Quinn’s analysis strung them together, plotting a line across the star chart until the picture became undeniable.

“The Newton,” Commander Holt reported, her tone clipped. “She dropped out of warp less than an hour ago. Energy readings match her core. Heavy output in the cargo hold.”

Corbin leaned forward in the command chair, her eyes narrowing. “On screen.”

The viewer steadied on the Newton, battered but intact. Her hull bore fresh scoring, her port nacelle still darkened from the earlier blast. The faint blue haze of containment fields bled outward from her cargo bay like an unhealed wound.

“Containment confirmed,” Sorvak said from the science station, his voice calm and precise. “The nanobots are being held in stasis fields. Stable for now.”

Corbin’s hand lifted. “Open a channel.”

*** USS Newton ***

Captain Rao’s face appeared on the viewer, her uniform crisp despite the fatigue written in her eyes. The lighting behind her was dimmed to conserve power, and a pair of officers moved with quiet efficiency at damaged consoles, but the bridge was orderly. The Newton was bloodied, yes, but not broken.

“Captain Corbin,” Rao said, relief threaded through the exhaustion. “You found us.”

“By your wake,” Corbin replied evenly. “Your status?”

“Core is stable. Containment fields around the bots are holding, triple-layered, and monitored. We’ve suffered system stress, but Engineering assures me we can sustain warp under escort.”

Corbin inclined her head. Rao was holding her ship together through sheer resolve, but her weariness was plain. Corbin felt it echo in her own bones.

“Then we move together. Helm will plot you inside our protective arc.” She turned slightly toward her comm. “Transporter Room, recall our away teams. Beam them directly to quarantine staging on Arawyn. Dr. Amberlyn will clear them before they rejoin duty.”

“Acknowledged,” Amberlyn’s voice came promptly through the comm.

Rao’s eyes softened for a moment as she drew a breath. “Your crew has been invaluable, Captain. We would not have stabilized containment without their intervention. Please extend my gratitude to them, and to you, for bringing us home.”
Corbin gave the faintest nod, her voice measured but warm. “We’ll see this through together, Captain. Stand ready for warp escort.”

*** Bridge USS Arawyn ***

The order rippled across the bridge, officers executing without hesitation.

Corbin sat back in the command chair, exhaling slowly. The Newton was stable. Containment held. Yet the knot in her chest did not ease. The signal for the buoy detonation had come from the nearby asteroid field, crude but deliberate. A question begged to be followed.

Her jaw tightened. Tempting. But not today.

“Helm,” she said firmly. “Set course for Tarvik III. Bring the Newton under escort.”

“Aye, Captain.”

*** Time Jump (1 Day Later) – Tarvik III Orbit ***

The planet filled the forward screen, a half-formed world scarred by the raw violence of terraforming. Vast oceans glittered, but barren patches stretched across the continents, where atmosphere processors fought to remake the soil. The orbit lanes above were crowded with freighters, colony transports, and patrol craft. Among them, unmistakable Kaldari silhouettes prowled too close for comfort.

Corbin smoothed the front of her jacket. “Senior staff, conference room.”

*** USS Arawyn – Conference Room ***

The senior officers assembled. Holt, steady and sharp-eyed, settled to Corbin’s right with the quiet weight of a first officer. Boren’s bearing was composed, her quarter-Vulcan heritage evident in the calm precision of her movements. Sorvak sat with exact posture, his measured discipline lending an austere steadiness to the room. Lieutenant Aev Flammia, Security and Tactical, slid into place with silent economy, his striking violet eyes catching the light as he fixed on Corbin with cool attentiveness. Rhys was present by Corbin’s special invitation, lingering a moment before taking his seat, a reminder that he saw more than most and was seldom where he wasn’t meant to be. Dr. Amberlyn had come directly from Sickbay, the quarantine had been lifted, and her patients had been cleared. Her presence at the table was calm and deliberate.

Corbin remained standing, hands braced on the back of her chair. She had allowed the crew a night’s reprieve after the chaos of the previous day, time to breathe, to rest, to take stock, before calling this meeting. Now, with Tarvik III wheeling slowly in the viewport beyond, scarred yet promising, the pause was over.

“The Newton is under escort,” she began. “Her core is stable, her nanobots contained. That gives us space to focus on Tarvik III. But first, context.”

Her eyes swept the table.

“While we tracked the Newton, Epsilon Fleet transmitted a fleet-wide message confirming Verathi involvement in the buoy detonation. The Vethari response was swift, denials, accusations of Federation provocation, the usual chorus. Which means eyes are on us. Every move here will be parsed, twisted, perhaps weaponized.”

She paced once along the table. “The origin of the detonation signal has been traced to an asteroid field. It is tempting to peel that back, but I have chosen not to. Every moment spent chasing shadows leaves this convoy and Tarvik III waiting. The planet hosts multiple settlements, not all Federation-aligned. But the Federation-sponsored colony depends on this convoy. That is our focus.”

She turned first to Amberlyn. “Medical, coordinate directly with the Federation settlement’s infirmary. Identify what they lack: supplies, expertise, and advanced care. If there are cases they cannot treat, we will. And be prepared should contagion or contamination risks flare again. No surprises.”

Amberlyn inclined her head, already noting specifics.

“LtCmdr Boren,” Corbin continued. “Engineering holds the spine of this operation. Ops will stage, Science will calibrate, but integration falls to you. Every terraforming module must be verified and humming before colonists bring them online.”
Boren’s jaw set. “Understood, Captain.”

“Science.” Corbin’s gaze shifted to Sorvak. “You will oversee calibration and atmospheric modeling. Colony progress must not be disrupted by misaligned arrays. You will work hand-in-glove with Ops and Engineering. Precision is not optional.”
“Efficiency will be preserved,” Sorvak said evenly. His tone was an anchor, though Corbin’s thoughts flicked briefly to Quinn outside. Too junior for this table, perhaps, but she had pieced together the Newton’s trail. Potential worth nurturing.
She turned to Flammia. “Security. Double cordons around our transports. No one approaches unchallenged. But restraint is the order. We do not escalate unless forced.”

Flammia inclined his head once, expression as sharp as his words were absent.

“And Intelligence.” Corbin’s gaze settled on Rhys. “The Kaldari are here in force. The Vethari have ears. If they speak of us, I want to know before they act. If tensions rise among the non-Federation settlements, we'll learn it here first.”

Rhys gave a single, measured nod. “It will be done.”

Corbin clasped her hands loosely behind her back, her voice quieter but cutting through the room.

“Our mandate is simple, but not easy. We deliver the upgrades. We support the Federation settlement. We keep this convoy intact. We do not chase ghosts in asteroid fields, but we do not ignore the storm on the horizon either. If someone else lights the fire, we will already have the hose in hand.”

Silence lingered, heavy but steadying.

Then Holt spoke, dry and certain: “Then we best get to work.”

One by one, they rose. Boren and Sorvak already murmuring coordination, Amberlyn tapping notes into her padd. Holt and Rhys exchanged a low word, Flammia watchful as he slipped from the room.

Corbin stayed behind, eyes on the viewport. Tarvik III wheeled slowly below, scarred but full of promise.

Another fragile Accord. Another test of resolve. And predators waiting to see if we stumble.

Her reflection ghosted faintly in the glass. She straightened her shoulders.

*** End Log ***

Captain Sabrin Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn

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