USS Dark Fire (IC)

Stardate 29870611.1120

Major K’alena:
“Anything that can be used? Any new tech?” The Major called out as MacPherson scanned the corridor. “If Xenobiology or The Weapons division can use it, tag it and transport it.”

Yito:
“Cmdr, I think this subject has a secondary lifeform inside. It might be like a Trill. Both are deceased. Transport to Xenobiology?”

Reeves:
“Captain, dual biological lifeform being transported to Xenobiology. Status deceased… safety concerns high.”

“No hostiles encountered since landing bay. Firefight heard at distance. Moving in that direction to provided rescue and recovery.”​
 

Lt. Sol & Ensign Cook

Lt. Sol tagged the crates of weapons, and they shimmered away in a clean blue transporter beam. He turned—just in time to see Ensign Cook slap her own tag onto a cluster of ancient bottles.

They vanished.

Sol growled, low and reptilian. “Why did you do that.”

Cook gave him a wicked little smile. “I think they might be important.”

Sol didn’t dignify that with a response. He tapped his comm badge.“Major, I’m entering the damaged trader vessel. Searching for xenobiology.”

He gripped the warped outer hatch and, with casual brutality, peeled it off the hull like the lid of a stubborn can. Metal screamed. Cook winced.

“Remind me to ask you to open my stuck pickle jar,” she muttered.

Sol paused halfway through the opening. “Was that a sexual comment.”

“No… but it could be,” Cook said brightly.

“UGH.” Sol climbed inside.

The interior was dark, stale, and coated in dust. He moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had fought in worse places. At the pilot station, he stopped.

A skeletal form slumped over the controls—large, equine lower body, humanoid torso. A centaur‑like alien.

“Interesting,” Sol murmured.

“Why?” Cook asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“This may be the origin species of that pleasure world we visited.” He collected a bone sample with clinical precision. “We are finished. Return to the Major.”

Cook turned and sauntered ahead of him, hips swaying with deliberate exaggeration. She made sure he noticed.

Sol absolutely noticed.

He had no idea how to stop a human from flirting. He would need to ask Loka for guidance before this got out of hand.

Hora

Hora stared at the bio‑samples on the display, her eyes widening.

“Ohhh for the love of dilithium crystals,” she groaned. “Dark Fire—triple containment. Level ten security field around all samples. Keep them at low temperature.”

She jabbed a finger at the console.“Then figure out the safest way to handle them. If that means loading them onto a shuttle and isolating the entire batch, recommend it. And expedite. Please.”
 
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