Sleight

Osuna Sector
17:30 Standard Earth Time (SET)
2184

    The Explorer had been in the Osuna Sector for three weeks; it had been four weeks since their “grand adventure” as Lieutenant Commander Lamb had called it. After a week layover at Starbase 001, the Explorer had set back out again, eager for a new mission and another “grand adventure.” Their new assignment was to record gaseous anomalies in the Osuna Sector; work for the Science Officer, Lieutenant Talaj.
    “Receiving results from last probe, Captain,” Lieutenant Talaj reported from her Science station. “Shall I send it to your monitor?”
    “No need,” said Captain Mansel, sitting comfortably in his command chair. “Go ahead and log it.” The main reason why the Explorer had their week long rest period at Starbase 001 was due to the LCD monitors that were installed at the end of the Captain’s chair and the commander’s chair. The small monitors lay flat until the Captain (or whoever was in the chair at the time) flipped it up to look at it. The monitor could display text, pictures, or the people they were having a conversation with. Similar monitor had been placed elsewhere in the ship, with particular emphasis in Engineering and each living quarters.
    Commander Vaughn shifted impatiently in his chair. “We have to do this for seven years?” he asked Mansel for the third time that day.
    “Captain,” announced Lieutenant Commander Broadaway from his station at the helm. “There’s a wormhole nearby. It’s unstable, on the verge of collapsing.”
    For Broadaway to take the initiative to report that, he must be bored too, thought Mansel, looking over at Vaughn. “Worth checking out,” he said.
    Vaughn nodded. “Agreed. Let’s go scope it out.”
   “Lay in a course, Broadaway,” ordered Mansel. “Translight speed.”

    Five minutes later, the Explorer reached the wormhole, still in the Osuna Sector. Broadaway noted a nearby planet and asked if he should orbit it.
    “No,” said Mansel. “Come to a full stop. We’ll be fine here.”
    “Is that planet going to be affected by the wormhole collapse?” Commander Vaughn asked.
    Lieutenant Commander Broadaway shook his head. “Negative, sir.”
    “Be cautions, Broadaway,” warned Commander Vaughn. “No telling where that wormhole leads to.” He looked over at the Captain. “Could we send a probe into it?”
    Lieutenant Talaj shook her head. “There’s no telling if we could retrieve the probe again,” she said, removing the dark brown hair from her eyes. Venutians were the closest aliens to the human race when it came to looks; other than a few rearranged critical body parts, Lieutenant Talaj could pass perfectly for a human female; an attractive one at that.
    “What if we retrieve it before it reaches the singularity?” Lieutenant Commander Broadaway asked.
Lieutenant Talaj thought it over. “You should be able to retrieve it,” she said, “but I doubt you’ll get much data.”
    Once again, Mansel wondered at the relationship between Lieutenant Talaj and Lieutenant Commander Broadaway. Had they known each other in the past? If so, how long? Was it a friendship or a relationship? He decided not to ask; it wasn’t his business.
    He rose from his chair and took his usual position behind it. “Do it,” he said. “Send an environmental probe into it. Retrieve it just before it hits the singularity.”
   “Aye, sir,” said Lieutenant Talaj. They watched as she fired a probe at the wormhole. Mansel had always found wormholes fascinating, but he’s never gotten the chance to study one up close.
    Interrupting his train of thought was an insistent beeping from the monitor attached to the armrest of the Captain’s chair. Frowning, Mansel sat back down and pressed a button.
    Lieutenant Commander Fleury was on the screen, face etched in such a fierce frown, Mansel almost thought it possible for little rain clouds to form over his eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Fleury?”
    “Sir, I’ve been looking everywhere for Lieutenant Davis. I can’t find her anywhere.”
    Wondering what Fleury couldn’t keep track of his engineers, Mansel said, “computer, locate Lieutenant Davis.”
    Specify which Lieutenant Davis.
    “Talia Davis,” said Fleury. Mansel repeated the name.
    Lieutenant Talia Davis is not on board this vessel.
    It was Commander Vaughn’s turn to frown. “Where could she have gone?”
    “Check the shuttle bays,” said Mansel.
    “Already have,” responded Lieutenant Commander Fleury. “I’ve checked with the transporter chief, too. He has nothing unusual to report.”
    “This whole thing is unusual,” said Mansel. “Computer, what is the compliment aboard this ship?”
    Nine hundred seventy-five.
   “Twelve people are missing,” said Lieutenant Hardy. “Where could they have gone?”
   “Mansel shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment’s silence. “But I intend to find out.”
   A half hour later, the Explorer orbited Palla, the planet closest to the wormhole. The probe that Lieutenant Talaj had sent was long forgotten; not that it mattered. The primary focus now was to figure out what had happened to the crewmembers.
   Another ten members had come up missing since Fleury’s initial report. Missing to where, though, was the big question. Lamb joked that if they knew where they were missing to, they wouldn’t be missing. Mansel ignored him.
    They had contacted the officials on Palla, wondering if they had any notice of “outside visitors” lately. They hadn’t, but offered full assistance in the investigation.
    At the moment, Captain Mansel and Commander Vaughn were with Lieutenant Commander Fleury in Engineering, the ground zero of all the disappearances. “Now tell us again what happened,” said Mansel, leaning against a nearby console.
    Lieutenant Commander Fleury pointed to where he had been standing earlier. “I was standing there with my back to Lieutenant Davis,” he explained. “I had been asking him a question, but she never responded. When I looked back to see here she’d gone, there was nothing. I looked around a corner, but she wasn’t there, either. I checked with a few other crewmembers who said they hadn’t seen her.”
    “So you were the last to see him?” Commander Vaughn asked, but Fleury shook his head.
    “Lieutenant Patterson was the last to see him, as far as I can tell.”
    “Where is Lieutenant Patterson?” Mansel asked.
    Fleury pointed to a striking African-American woman in her Engineering uniform. “Lieutenant Patterson is the second-in-command here,” Fleury informed the wide-eyed Captain. Mansel didn’t bother to respond to his Chief Engineer.
    Lieutenant Patterson approached the trio of senior officers. Mansel was dimly aware that her hair wasn’t quite regulations, but at the moment, he wasn’t concerned with that.