Let’s get to work business

Posted on Monday July 14, 2025 @ 2:43pm by Commander Lucas Redd & Ensign Taryn Wells

2,225 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: The first Steps to the Unknown
Location: Stellar Cartography USS. Intrepid
Timeline: Four minutes after let’s get everything done at once

Wells and Lucas finally arrived at the astrometric or science area, ready to begin their investigation. Taryn approached the station and retrieved the data pads. “Let’s get started,” she said. “That rift really threw us off course. I have a strong feeling that its magnitude is significant, especially since we were supposed to meet up at the neutral zone sector of space. Whatever Wells for him to focus. “ It will be crucial for us moving forward.”

"We havent been hit by the actual rift yet," said Lucas as he pointed to the rift as it looked to be headed towards them. Lucas tapped his com badge. "Redd to Rngineering," he said, "shut down the warp drive and impulse engine on my mark."

science area of the USS Intrepid glowed with the soft hum of its cutting-edge consoles, their panels alive with cascading data as the rift’s radiant chaos dominated the viewscreen. The deep space science vessel, a beacon of Starfleet exploration, hung motionless, its warp and impulse engines stilled by Commander Lucas Redd’s decisive command, executed flawlessly by the ship’s automated systems. Ensign Taryn Wells, Redd’s chief intelligence assistant, stood before a sleek control panel, her fingers dancing across illuminated touchpads and sliders, her sharp eyes scanning the readouts with practiced intensity.

With a swift tap, she isolated a rhythmic signal buried in the rift’s ultraviolet emissions, the panel’s lights flickering as the data resolved. “Commander Redd!” she exclaimed, her voice crackling with excitement, “this rift’s more than a light show—check it! A signal, pulsing every 3.7 seconds, tight as a warp core’s rhythm. No natural anomaly does that. Could be a Romulan cloak signature, a smuggler’s SOS, or something alien we’ve never cracked!” She adjusted a row of glowing sliders, cross-referencing the signal with Starfleet’s intelligence archives via the panel’s holographic display, the Intrepid’s deep space sensors humming in sync.
Wells spun toward Redd, her hand resting on a panel as she met his gaze with fierce determination. “We launch a probe, we might lock onto its source—gold for Starfleet Command! But this rift’s energy spike is climbing—do we risk the probe now, or pull back before it drags us in?”

"Raise shields and reverse course," said Redd, "Hit the warp engines on my mark."

The roommate tension was too strong —“Raise shields and reverse course. Hit the warp engines on my mark!”—Wells snapped into action. Her fingers flew across the panel, rerouting power to the shield grid with a series of precise taps, the console chirping in response. “Shields up, Commander!” she called, her voice sharp with adrenaline. “Deflectors at full strength, and I’m plotting a reverse course to keep us clear of that rift’s pull.” She swiped a holographic interface, aligning the Intrepid’s navigational systems, the panel’s readouts confirming the ship’s slow retreat from the anomaly’s grasp.
But her intelligence training kept her eyes glued to the signal she’d isolated earlier. “Hold on, sir,” she said, her tone crackling with urgency as she fine-tuned a sensor feed with a quick twist of a dial. “That 3.7-second pulse is still screaming through the rift’s UV emissions—stronger now, like it’s reacting to us. Romulan cloak, smuggler beacon, or alien tech, it’s definitely tracking our moves!” She punched in a command, the console’s lights flaring as it cross-referenced the signal against Starfleet’s covert ops database.

Wells spun toward Redd, one hand gripping the panel’s edge, her eyes blazing with focus. “Course reversal’s locked in, and warp engines are primed for your mark. But if we bolt now, we might lose that signal. Want me to prep a probe to tag it before we jump, or do we run and report this to Starfleet Command?”

"Prep the probe," said Lucas, "Captain Janeway will thank us later. How long will it take you?"

Lucas could tell something just wasn't right. He was being tested somehow and he didn't know by who? He looked at the readout as the rift started to flutter. "Fire the Warp Engines now."

Ensign Wells and Reed were positioned at the main console in Stellar Cartography, with the USS Intrepid’s Pathfinder-class holographic dome displaying a live 3D representation of the rift’s chaotic energy fields. Her fingers glided over the console’s smooth touchscreen as she prepared a class-5 probe using the ship’s advanced astrometric sensors. “The probe is locked onto the 3.7-second signal, sir,” she stated, her voice laced with concentration. “It’s ready for launch in eight seconds .” The holographic starfield flickered momentarily, the rift’s interference creating a subtle static noise from the room’s projectors.

Wells looked at the navigational display, which indicated the Pathfinder’s warp core was operational, but a warning light was flashing: Gravitational Shear: 18% above nominal. “Warp engines are currently at 98% capacity, and we’re maintaining a reverse course at one-quarter impulse,” she informed, her gaze shifting to Commander Redd. “The rift’s tidal forces are positioning stress on the inertial dampeners—deck plating is vibrating, and the deflectors are consuming 1.2 terawatts to adjust. We need to engage in warp speed to escape, or we should launch another probe to track that signal before it’s too late. There’s a risk of getting caught in riff if we wait, sir. What are your orders?”

"Drop the warp engines and the shields," said Lucas as he grabbed Taryn to brace her for what was to come. "Once we drop the warp drive," he said, "we will be taken into the rift, but it won't destroy us Ensign."

Lucas started to think and have visions of what would happen.

Ensign Taryn Wells felt Commander Redd’s steady grip on her arm, his words cutting through the hum of Stellar Cartography as the Pathfinder-class USS Intrepid trembled under the rift’s grasp. The holographic dome flickered, its 3D starfield pulsing with the 3.7-second signal—its tachyon pattern still suggestive of a Romulan cloak, distorted by the rift’s energy. She took a slow breath, calming her racing pulse as she processed Redd’s assurance: It won’t destroy us. “Understood, sir,” she said, her voice softening but resolute as she steadied herself against his brace.


Lucas pulled Taryn close to him and whispered in her ear. "Would you like it to be more intimate?" he asked. He tapped a few buttons on the console and the doors locked them into the lab. Lucas knew what was gonna happen, cause the rift had given him the vision of what was gonna happen. He kissed Taryn lightly on the cheek.

Taryn still standing close to him as she slowly steps into his arms while she said yes, sir..”

Lucas began to kiss Taryn as he began to undress her. "Be my lover for now," he said, "you might go places with that as help." He removed his own duty jacket and shirt to reveal his bare muscular upper body. Soon he had Taryn topless as well. He began sucking on her tits.

Taryn continues going through his love making. “ I guess this is going to work..”

Lucas removes Taryns remaining clothing and drops his duty trousers and boxers He begins fucking her fast and hard. Grabbing her by the wrists, Lucas began to pump his cock into Taryn's pussy. "You can also be the Captain's lover as well," said Lucas, "If you want to be,"

Taryn laugh softly as she smiles softly well just remember to pull out so we don’t get it hot. We don’t wanna let this slide in under the radar of our Co.”

"Don't worry about the Captain finding out," he said as he kept pumping her pussy with his cock, "She has her hands full anyway." Lucas passionately kissed Wells on the mouth and then continued to suck on her tits. "I will cum inside you if I want to," he said, "you understand Ensign?"

Taryn hesitated, her breath catching as she stepped back from Redd’s grasp, her cheeks flushed but her eyes sharp with conflict. “Commander,” she said softly, her voice a mix of resolve and something softer, “you know this can’t happen—not now, not like this. Captain Janeway… she’s your fiancée, the mother of your daughters. We’ve got a ship to save and a signal to track.” Her gaze flickered to the console, the 3.7-second pulse still flashing across the holographic dome, its tachyon signature taunting them.

She steadied herself, fingers flying over the touchscreen to finalize the class-5 probe’s settings. “Probe’s locked and ready

in three seconds,” she said, her tone snapping back to professional urgency. “Gravitational shear’s hit 20% above nominal, and deflectors are pulling 1.3 terawatts. If we drop shields and warp as you ordered, we’re gambling with the rift’s pull. Launch now, or we lose the signal—and maybe the Intrepid. What’s your call, sir?” Her eyes met his, a spark of unspoken tension lingering, but her focus held firm on the mission.

"Now," said Redd, "hit the engine and drop the shields." As they did that, the rift stopped moving and actually started to retreat. Lucas looked at Taryn and smiled. Lucas had saved the ship from the rift for now.

Well’s looks back at him “Hold on, sir. That 3.7-second pulse is still screaming through the rift’s UV emissions—stronger now, like it’s reacting to us. Romulan cloak, smuggler beacon, or alien tech, it’s definitely tracking our moves! Course reversal’s locked in, and warp engines are primed for your mark. But if we bolt now, we might lose that signal. Want me to prep a probe to tag it before we jump, or do we run and report this to Starfleet Command?”

"Prep a probe," said Redd, "you have twenty minutes to arm a probe."

Lucas looked around and then started to leave Stellar Cartography.

Wells stood at the main console, the Pathfinder-class holographic dome aglow with the rift’s chaotic energy fields, its 3.7-second tachyon pulse flashing across the 3D starfield. “Aye, Commander,” she responded to Redd’s order, her voice crisp as her fingers danced over the touchscreen. “Arming a class-5 probe now—configuring its subspace sensor array to lock onto the 3.7-second UV emission cycle. I’m tuning the gravimetric scanners to isolate the tachyon signature’s modulation frequency, 0.27 terahertz, with a 2% variance. Launch readiness in nine minutes, thirty seconds.”
She glanced at the navigational display: Gravitational Shear: 20.4% above nominal; Deflector Grid: 1.32 terawatts; Inertial Dampeners: 87% efficiency. “Sir, the rift’s tidal forces are inducing microfractures in the hull’s tritanium plating—stress levels at 0.8 megapascals and rising. Deflectors are compensating, but we’re burning through power reserves.” Wells tapped a command, routing auxiliary fusion reactors to stabilize the grid. “The signal’s amplitude has spiked 12% since we dropped shields, suggesting a reactive intelligence—possibly a Romulan phase-cloak or an alien quantum beacon.”

Her eyes narrowed as she cross-referenced the tachyon pattern with Starfleet’s xenotech database, the console humming. “I’m programming the probe with a triaxilation algorithm to pinpoint the signal’s origin within 0.1 parsecs, using the Intrepid’s long-range sensor logs. If this is a cloaked vessel, its emission decay matches Romulan D’Deridex-class warp signatures from 2379.” She adjusted a slider, filtering out the rift’s subspace interference. “Probe’s deflector module is set to emit a counter-pulse at 0.27 terahertz to disrupt any cloaking field.”
As Redd approached the door, Wells’s voice cut through the hum of Stellar Cartography, firm but urgent. “Commander, the signal’s modulation is adapting to our scans—phase variance now at 3.2%. If it’s tracking us, we’re not shaking it without answers. I’ll signal Captain Janeway once the probe’s away, but recommend we prep a tachyon burst from the main deflector to expose any cloaked ships before we jump to warp.” Her fingers poised over the console, the rift’s pulse syncing with her resolve. “Your orders, sir?”

"Arm three quantum torpedoes and fire on the rift," said Redd, "on my mark "

Redd looked around and smirked. "Mark !"

As Redd’s “Mark!” echoed, Wells slammed the launch command, the console flashing as three quantum torpedoes streaked from the Intrepid’s forward bay. The holographic dome lit up, tracking their paths into the rift’s core. A low rumble vibrated the deck as the torpedoes detonated, their quantum shockwaves scattering tachyon particles in a brilliant cascade. The rift’s edges flickered, contracting slightly, but the signal’s amplitude spiked 15%, its modulation now at 3.5%. Wells’s eyes narrowed, analyzing the readouts. “Detonation confirmed, sir! Rift’s subspace field is destabilizing—tachyon emissions up, but the signal’s holding. It’s countering our attack!”
She turned to Redd, her posture rigid with focus. “Commander, the rift’s reacting like it’s shielding something—maybe a cloaked vessel. Recommend a tachyon burst at 0.27 terahertz from the main deflector, 1.5 terawatt output, to expose it. I can have it ready in 45 seconds, but we’ll need to divert power from secondary systems. Alternatively, we prep another probe to trace the signal’s origin before the rift collapses. Your orders, sir?”

"Make it so Ensign," said Redd.

 

RSS Feed