Gold kept his finger on the pulse of his ship, constantly in touch with engineering and the transporter room. The bridge was a beehive of activity as Tev diligently worked to become a miracle worker and transport the away team down to the station through a relay system, circumventing the titanic forces of a black hole.

The captain snorted softly. It would almost be worth interrupting Tev to see what his oh-so-dry response to “miracle worker” would be.

“Captain, I’ve definitely verified it’s an ion trail,” Shabalala said.

“How old?”

Shabalala tapped his screen with practiced efficiency. “I’m not sure. Our sensors are still catching massive interference. The best I can say is three to five days; just can’t narrow it down any more. I’m sorry, Captain.”

“That’s narrow enough.” He shifted slightly in his chair (would they ever make one of these that actually felt comfortable?) as he tried to accept what that meant.

“Captain,” Shabalala began as he turned a concerned look toward his captain, “that means—”

“It means that ship must have detected the signal and yet…what happened? Did they depart? Go in?”

Shabalala looked down at the sensors for a moment before answering. “The gravimetric waves, not to mention the massive flux of Hawking radiation, are making it very difficult to analyze the ion trail. Hell, we spent how many hours here before it was even detected?”

Gold tried not to read too much into the defensive tone, but his own lack of sleep had him on edge as well.

He leaned back in his chair, staring out the viewscreen at the awesome maw before him and tried to think through the sensor readings. He began to knead the muscles of his neck when his skin prickled with the knowledge that this flesh did not belong to him; Gold almost shivered when an echo of his nightmare shimmered before his eyes, as though part of the maw itself. He stood abruptly and walked around to Shabalala’s side at the tactical station behind his chair, trying to hide his agitation; that had never happened once he was fully awake. Though he felt the need to face down this specter again, he set it aside for another day.

His crew and his ship needed him right now.

He laid his hand comfortably on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “What can you tell me about the trail?”

The gesture and tone of voice seemed to work, and he felt the tension draining out of Shabalala’s muscles. “I can place it about three to five days ago. There appears to be a second trail—almost a mirror image—but that could simply be an echoing effect: a version of the Einstein Ring, where the trail is duplicated.”

“There’s no debris?”

“None.”

“Then I’d say that leaves us with two possible answers. One: a ship approached, drew almost to the photon sphere, perhaps hearing the distress signal, and then departed. Two: a ship approached, heard the distress signal, and attempted a rescue by actually taking the ship beyond the photon sphere.”

“Captain,” Tev interrupted. Gold turned to see the Tellarite standing almost at his shoulder, snuffling.

“Yes.”

“Your second hypothesis is incorrect. If the ship traversed the photon sphere, our sensors would still be able to locate its presence—or the absence of its presence. As such, for the craft to simply have vanished to the point that our sensors refuse to reveal its location, it would need to pass through the event horizon, not simply the photon sphere.” The black orbs of Tev’s eyes reminded the captain of the black hole: light, matter, even emotions, seemed to vanish into those depths without a trace, without a reaction from Tev in the slightest.

“That would, in effect, be the same thing, wouldn’t it?” Gold could feel the shaking of Shabalala’s shoulders as the tactical officer attempted to repress his laughter. Poor Tev. We humans can be more difficult to understand than Klingons or even Romulans. Nothing we say can be taken literally.

Gold’s words finally seemed to affect Tev as he raised his bushy, foliage-quality eyebrows, as though shocked his own captain could be so dense. “Of course it is different, Captain. Though I could explain it in detail, the most telling difference would be the location of the ship. With the right knowledge and technology a ship might survive crossing the photon sphere. No ship could survive crossing the event horizon.”

Gold raised his hand. “I’m sorry, Tev. I know what you meant. What I meant is either the ship stayed, or it passed and simply vanished. Either way there is no trace of it and we’ve still got our team heading across that same barrier.”

Tev snuffled loudly, and Gold suddenly realized this must be a Tellarite way of clearing their throat before speaking. Could Tev actually be nervous about something?

“Captain,” Tev began. If he was nervous, it didn’t show. “The modifications are completed. I’m leaving now to monitor a test directly from the transporter room as we send a probe into the Demon. As soon as it succeeds, the away team can be sent.”

“Excellent.”

“You know that it should be me leading the away team. My theories and ultimate application allowed for this success. My knowledge and experience on this matter are greater than any other crew member’s.”

“Exactly,” Gold said. “Which is why Gomez wants you to stay on the ship. If there’s a problem, your knowledge is the only lever we have.”

“It will not fail, Captain.”

“Of course it won’t. But other problems are likely to arise, and you’re the one needed here.”

Tev snuffled and then bowed his head ever so slightly; orders were still orders. He shuffled off, and Gold watched him head toward the turbolift.

“And Tev?”

The second officer stopped and turned. “Sir?”

“The composition of the away team is Commander Gomez’s decision. You have a problem, talk to her. Don’t think you’re going to accomplish anything—with her or with me—by going over her head. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

As the Tellarite entered the turbolift, bound for the transporter room, Gold hoped Gomez was having better luck with Tev than he seemed to be.

Sonya did not care for environmental suits. The bulky outfits weighed on her like a straitjacket. Stiff. Claustrophobic, even without the helmet on. And they always smelled of feet, though the maintenance crews promised her that just wasn’t possible. To her engineer’s eyes, they needed a good redesign. Maybe she’d take her hand to it, after this mission, but for now there was no way around them. Without any idea of a breathable atmosphere over on the station, the suits were a necessary evil.

She shuffle-stepped to one side, clearing a path to the transporter pad. Elizabeth Lense and Fabian Stevens waddled past. P8 Blue, in her self-designed suit, marched past on all eight legs, low to the ground and moving much faster than a humanoid might. Pattie carried pattern enhancers strapped to her back, which Tev didn’t feel necessary but, as he’d finally allowed, “Couldn’t hurt.” She considered it a minor victory pulling that concession from him.

Three months, and Sonya still wasn’t certain if the Tellarite’s extreme confidence in himself was his greatest failing, or his greatest strength.

And she wasn’t the only one. As each member of her away team reported in to the transporter room, they came by to check with her that she felt confident in Tev’s transporter relay system. Second, they offered whatever piece of advice they thought was prudent, or asked for clarifications based on the latest data.

Domenica Corsi was the exception. Hauling a pair from security in her wake, the intimidating blonde planted herself in front of Sonya. “We’ll take a three-point perimeter on beam-over. If we split up, I want one security guard present at all times.” She glanced back. “Everyone got that?”

Konya simply nodded. Next to him, a thick-necked man carrying a phaser rifle in one hand and his suit helmet in the other shrugged his arms out as if loosening up. “Ya got it, sh-weetheart.” His accent was nasal.

Corsi glared. “Don’t make me tell you again, Vinx.”

“Absolutely, doll—er, Commander.” He put on his helmet and winked, an exaggerated expression that took half his face to do. Propping the phaser rifle one-handed up to his shoulder, he sauntered up to the transporter pad.

Sonya couldn’t see how the man pulled it off, sauntering in an environment suit. And living through calling “Core-Breach” Corsi “sweetheart.”

“Did we take out an advertisement?” she asked, sotto voice.

Corsi shrugged with her eyes. “Iotian. He’s having troubles, ah, assimilating.” She glanced up at the nearly packed transporter stage. “Are you sure—”

The doors whisked open, and Tev stormed in with a thundercloud darkening his face. Corsi looked over at the Tellarite, and asked the question with a raised eyebrow.

Sonya nodded. “He hasn’t dropped the ball yet.” Even if she wished he would. Just not this time, thank you very much.

“No engineer out of sight.” Corsi reminded her. “Ever.”

Sonya nodded. “No pairing up with Stevens.”

Corsi started, and Sonya smiled. She hadn’t been completely sure about the two of them being a couple. On the other hand, given her and the late Kieran Duffy, she was hardly in a position to object. On the third hand, look how that relationship ended. “Relax, Domenica. It’s me.”

“If you three are ready,” Tev said from the control panel, “my probes are nearly in place.”

Corsi and Konya moved past her, taking up position on the pad. Sonya stepped up onto the stage, fastening her helmet down, making certain she had good air flow. She inhaled her first breath. Feet.

“Phasers ready,” Corsi ordered, drawing her own.

“Packin’ heat.” Vinx held his phaser rifle at waist level.

“Ready,” Konya answered, though Sonya saw that he had not drawn his weapon. The security guard still persisted in finding noncombative solutions. So far, no one had room to complain.

She looked over to Tev, but the command “energize” never made it past her lips. The Tellarite took it upon himself, and started the transport sequence on his authority. A high-pitched hum filled Sonya’s ears, and the transporter’s energy matrix cascaded over the away team…

…falling away as they rematerialized inside a dimly lit space. Shadows moved around them, lunging forward quickly.

Bright lights stabbed into the back of Sonya’s eyes. “Do not move!” a rasping voice ordered.

She adjusted quickly. Not that there was much she could do. They were surrounded by a dozen beings from a reptilian race, with dark scales and glassy-black eyes.

And each one held a makeshift energy weapon pointed at the S.C.E. team.