Star Trek: Nexus

Captain's Log: Stardate 87977.4

"The Nexus is enroute back to the Delta Quadrant Dyson sphere onto our next mission in the Beta Quadrant. Chief Science Officer Nolan Rivas and I have a long-standing dinner appointment, a tradition I maintain with all my senior staff to keep a pulse on the crew's morale and needs. Commanding over 5,000 souls aboard the Nexus is no small task, and my senior staff serve as my eyes and ears among the crew. But Nolan is more than just my science officer—he's my colleague, confidant, and closest friend. These dinners often stretch longer than the others, as conversations with him are as intellectually enriching as they are personally comforting."

Anzyl placed a meticulously prepared salad on the table, its artful presentation hinting at the captain's attention to detail. "You know, Nolan," he began with a teasing smile, "you're by far the easiest house guest to cook for. Being an herbivore has its perks in the kitchen."

Nolan's saurian muzzle quivered as he inhaled the aromatic medley of greens. "I thank you, my friend," he replied, filling his bowl with a generous helping. "You always know how to craft the finest salads a Voth could ever hope for!"

As they settled into their meal, Anzyl leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "You know, I just realized—it's been five years since we first met."

"Five years?" Nolan's eyes widened as he chewed thoughtfully. "It feels like a lifetime ago, though I can't say I'd mind deleting parts of that chapter from my memory files if I could."

Anzyl chuckled, rising from his chair to retrieve a data pad and a holo-image from the nearby shelf. The image depicted himself, Nolan, and a Romulan standing arm-in-arm at a research facility, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and triumph.

"Here," Anzyl said, handing the items to Nolan. "It wasn't just one day, my friend. And it wasn't a hole you were in—you were stranded in a shuttle in the middle of a debris field!"

Nolan let out a delighted trill as he accepted the data pad. "Our letters!" he exclaimed, running a clawed finger over the holo-image. "You were my first pen pal, as you mammals call it."

Anzyl grinned as he sat back down. "You were mine too. Who writes letters in the 24th century?"

"Apparently, those committing high treason against their governments!" Nolan quipped, his laughter mixing with Anzyl's as they reminisced about the extraordinary circumstances that had brought them together.

—

Five Years Ago

The newly formed Khitomer Alliance and the Voth were locked in a tense struggle over the immense Dyson Spheres, their advanced yet enigmatic technology sparking both hope and conflict. At the Dyson Joint Command, the Alliance's strategic hub of silver hues and shimmering metals, Captain Anzyl Praxas, still fresh in his command of the USS Hemmer, was summoned to Romulan Subcommander Kaol's office.

Kaol, a quintessential Romulan of the New Romulan Republic, sat at a glass desk illuminated by neon holographic displays. Without preamble, he slid a data pad across the desk toward Anzyl. "Captain, I have an assignment requiring a delicate touch. A science ship patrolling Grid Beta 53-30 intercepted an encrypted message from the Voth."

Anzyl raised a brow as he picked up the data pad. "The Voth? Aren't we at war with them?"

Kaol nodded gravely. "We are. But this message didn't come from their military or leadership. It was a short-range burst from a science outpost. I believe we may have a potential ally among our enemies." He gestured toward a circular portal leading to a secure communication chamber. "I want you to engage with this individual. Establish a dialogue and see if their defection could turn the tide of this war. Your record suggests you have the diplomatic skill for this delicate task."

With a crisp nod, Anzyl saluted and entered the communications room. The space was as futuristic as the rest of the station—a sleek glass desk, glowing neon consoles, and a central holo-projector ready to bring distant transmissions to life.

"Computer," Anzyl commanded, placing the data pad on a scanning node, "load file 'Kaol One.' Authorization: Praxas-Epsilon-Seven."

A shimmering hologram of Nolan Rivas materialized, his traditional Voth scientist attire lending an air of dignity to his saurian frame.

"I'm trying to contact any member of the mammalian occupying force who is willing to open negotiations. I am Nolan Rivas, of the Voth Circle of Archeology. And I believe that we have common scientific goals that can only be achieved without interference from our respective militaries. 

Working alongside the best minds of the Voth circles of Science, I have been studying this immense celestial structure, its function and original inhabitants. 

Our work has yielded some troubling information for those seeking to uphold the Doctrine that we, the voth, are the original intelligent species in the Delta Quadrant. 

The Voth Ministry of Elders maintains that science is only valid if it supports their own, fictions, of history. I've lost too many colleagues to this terrible government censorship. 

What I've been able to discover on my own and away from government interruptions is that this sphere was created by a race under direct control of a species known as the Iconians. 

Even ignoring the huge cache of records we've found here, the mere existence of this sphere proves that there are power entities that my government refuses to acknowledge - perhaps to our ultimate doom.

 I will not be so naive. 

Left high and try by my own people, I am left with few options. There must be a sympathetic ear out there that realizes we have entered the nest of an enemy neither of us are prepared to face alone! 

End transmission." 

When the message ended, Anzyl stood in contemplative silence. "Computer," he finally said, "dictate a reply:

To Nolan Rivas of the Voth Circle of Archeology,

Your message reached me through the static of a battlefield, and I must admit it gave me pause. An olive branch from a Voth archaeologist? A rare thing indeed. Yet, I have always believed that even in the midst of conflict, we are bound by something greater than our respective banners: the pursuit of truth and survival.

I am Captain Anzyl Praxas of the Federation vessel the USS Hemmer. Like you, I have encountered doctrines, traditions, and governments too rigid to face the truths unearthed by science. Your findings about the Iconian involvement in this Dyson Sphere and the power it represents are too significant to ignore. I fear you may be right: this structure might not just be a relic of the past but a harbinger of something far worse.

You are correct to call for cooperation, but understand that trust between us will be hard-won. If you are willing to share your data, I will do the same. Knowledge could be the only shield we have against what lies ahead.

If we are to move forward, I suggest we meet—not as enemies, but as scientists and explorers seeking a way to preserve both our peoples. I am willing to take that first step. Are you?

End Transmission." 

Anzyl let out a long breath as the file uploaded to the subspace network. He had no way of knowing whether his message would reach Nolan or what consequences it might bring, but his instincts told him this was a risk worth taking.