Outpost On the Border
Posted on Tue Dec 9th, 2025 @ 5:30pm by Captain M'Raz & Lieutenant Commander Jason Reeves & Lieutenant Tavin Suárez & Lieutenant H'iri & Lieutenant Richard Pierce MD & Ensign Kaelun Merak & Lieutenant JG Von Ressa
1,252 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Collating Data
Location: Intel Outpost Near Cardassian Border (Disputed Territory)
The trip to the Cardassian border was tense but uneventful; while there was a noticeable level of mistrust and panic spreading throughout the Federation, the Crazy Horse saw no sign of the Borg. As the outpost came into view, Raz leaned forward in his seat. "This is the outpost I was thinking about, Number One," Raz said. "Helped the crew out once or twice during my time here."
Looking down at the console, next to his seat. He recalled those times, the Jane Addams found itself in this area. Fighting the Cardassians, wondering if they would return back to their loved ones some days. That crew which now occupied the Crazy History got through many of skirmishes. But this time, things felt a bit different with the looming menace to the Federation. "This area brings back a few memories."
Lieutenant (jg) Von Ressa stood at the tactical station on the bridge, her fingers moving across the console with practiced efficiency as the Cardassian border outpost came into view. Her hand unconsciously moved to the ridges along her nose—an old nervous habit from childhood—before she caught herself and returned her focus to the sensor displays.
"Tactical sensors show no contacts within scanning range, Captain," she reported, her voice steady despite the twin anxieties gnawing at her. "No sign of Borg activity. The outpost is transmitting standard operational codes." She paused, scanning the data with extra care. "Cardassian patrol signatures detected along their side of the border—routine movements, nothing unusual."
It was not the 'unusual' things that bothered Lieutenant Suárez, but rather the usual. The things that simply blended in, went unnoticed, indistinguishable from what was supposed to be. That was what made certain enemies of the Federation so dangerous. The Borg were different though.
Ressa had run these scans continuously during the journey, each time searching for two different threats. The Borg were the immediate danger—the reports from Earth and Arcturus had been horrifying. But being this close to Cardassian space brought back older fears and deeper wounds. She'd grown up in the Valo II refugee camp, watching her people struggle to survive while their homeworld remained under occupation. The Borg were coming—everyone knew it was only a matter of time. And out here, on the edge of Cardassian space, with her people still suffering under occupation and an enemy that turned people into machines somewhere in the darkness, Ressa felt the weight of too many wars pressing down on her shoulders.
H'iri stood at her post waiting. In space, nobody knew what would happen next and she stood at attention, just in case something went wrong. For now, she looked at her monitors, making certain that everything on the ship was running well.
"Let's move into transport range," Raz said as he turned toward his First Officer. "Commander, you know what we need, assemble your away team."
Suarez, the new Chief Intelligence Officer had been looming in the aft of the bridge just monitoring things. When he spoke it was only to reaffirm the elephant in the room. "This is still disputed space," he stated. "I would be amiss if I did not echo the need to proceed with caution. Cardassians like to leave surprises, and those surprises have a nasty habit of not being obvious at first glance."
Lieutenant Von's fingers moved across the tactical console, pulling up historical data on Cardassian tactics in disputed space.
"I agree with Lieutenant Suárez," she said, her voice carrying an edge that came from personal experience. "Cardassians don't abandon installations without reason, and they don't leave assets intact for Starfleet to claim." She looked up from her display. "I grew up hearing stories about their 'gifts' to the Resistance. Booby traps, surveillance equipment, delayed weapons systems."
She ran another sensor sweep of the outpost, calibrating specifically for Cardassian energy signatures. "I'm detecting standard outpost power distribution, but there are three sections showing unusual energy fluctuations. Could be failing systems from lack of maintenance, could be something else. I can't tell from here."
Popeye stood at the rear of the bridge, a padd in hand, the soft glow of its display reflecting off the faint bandage wrapped around his knuckles. He didn’t speak. He rarely did on the bridge. Instead, he monitored the outpost’s limited medical telemetry, eyes narrowing as he scrolled through readings that were incomplete, degraded… and far too quiet. His jaw tightened. Disputed space. Borg territory. Cardassian tricks. Take your pick. He said nothing, but the tension in his shoulders spoke for him. His thumb hovered over a medical alert command—ready, but not pressed. He kept watching the data.
"Unless it's moved," Raz answered, "this is one of ours and should be on our side of the line. Confirm the location, H'iri, if you will." He nodded toward the screen. "I don't like that it's so quiet. Even without a Borg presence in the area, there are other problems they could have encountered."
H'iri checked the instruments. "This is, or at least was, Cardassian space. With the Borg and without the regular updates, it is difficult to know," H'iri added with the doubt creeping into her voice. "We should be receiving some more signals in the area, but it is as if everything is dead. No chatter. Nothing."
Reeves turned his attention to the Captain. "The Cardassians have to know what the Federation is dealing with by now. Their silence could be them waiting to see what happens next."
“Understood, Captain. Quiet doesn’t mean safe—especially out here. I don’t like the lack of traffic or the dead air on all channels. Whatever’s going on at that outpost, we treat it as a potential threat until proven otherwise. I’ll be ready.” Fox stated from Tactical.
"Quiet likely means unsafe," H'iri answered. "The Borg likely were here, otherwise we would be hearing something."
"Unlikely it was the Borg," Raz said, "but quiet can be a lot of things. Best we go find out. Number One, it's up to you but stay in contact."
"Von, Suarez, and Merak come with me," Jason spoke as he made his way to the turbolift.
They were correct. Quiet did likely mean unsafe. Lieutenant Suárez acknowledged the First Officer and locked the console, relief would come.
Ensign Kaelun Merak looked up from the science station, his hands pausing over the sensor analysis he'd been running. For a moment, surprise flickered across his face—he was junior staff, not typically included in away team selections. But he nodded, securing his console and grabbing a tricorder from the equipment locker near his station.
"Aye, sir," he said, moving quickly toward the turbolift. His stomach tightened slightly—not fear exactly, but the weight of knowing what could be waiting down there. After what he'd witnessed on the Portland, abandoned outposts and unusual energy readings carried different implications than they once had.
Meanwhile, Raz said sat on the Bridge and wished, for likely the thousandth time, that it was him going and not Reeves. He settled back in his seat, trying to curb the restlessness, and idly wondered why visuals were never a possibility.
Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lt. Commander Jason Reeves
Executive Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant (jg) Von Reesa
Security/Tactical Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Ensign Kaelun Merak
Science Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant H'iri
Chief Operations Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant Tavin Suárez
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Crazy Horse
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