Give Me a Sign

Posted on Mon Mar 30th, 2026 @ 12:27pm by Colonel Ezekiel Bagwell & Admiral Deela T'Lar & Lieutenant JG Deezell Vox & Lieutenant JG Paul Harrison

1,416 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 120 - Guardian at the Gate
Location: USS Essex, Outside of the Conduit
Timeline: Current

Deela walked out onto the bridge after making her personal log. Before she could even sit down, "Admiral T'Lar, there is a ship approaching."

She nodded and sat down, "On screen." The ship stopped moving and a familiar face appeared on the screen, "Admiral T'Lar, permission to come aboard."

Deela smiled, "Lieutenant Harrison, permission granted." She waited for him to get to the bridge.

When the turbo lift doors opened, Paul walked in with a smile too, "Hello Admiral, it good to see you."

Deela was surprised to see him, "What are you doing way over here? And by the way, you have permission to call me Deela."

"We heard that there is something going on with the conduit. We were asked to investigate it. I didn't even know you were here, so when we arrived and I saw your ship, I just had to come aboard to see you. It's been a while. I've missed you. You have always been like a second mom to me."

"Thank you. I appreciate the sediment." She invited Paul to sit next to her on the bridge, "I guess I should update you on what's been going on. First of all, the USS Perseus entered the conduit, but we haven't heard anything from them yet and sensors can't see what is on the other side." She continued to tell him what's been happening.

"Then I guess we need to get to work. I'm going to go back to my ship and study the conduit readings." Paul stood up, "If we find anything, we'll let you know."

Deela nodded, "Thank you."

"I see. So, it's just a waiting game. I heard that you guys experienced some kind of explosion that wrecked one of your ships."

"Yes. They are making repairs but we may have to tow the ship back to Starbase 400." She exhaled, "Right now, we are getting strange readings from the conduit. No one can figure out what it is. We don't know how stable this conduit is either. Maybe an extra set of eyes can wfigure it out."

"It was good seeing you. Hopefully, we can figure it out before something happens again." Paul was happy to help the woman that was like a second mother to him.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Deezell Vox leaned over her console, brow furrowing as a soft cascade of readings scrolled past.

The USS Essex sat just outside the Conduit, its swirling aperture calm enough to seem almost dormant — but the sensors told a different story.

Tiny fluctuations, barely above background noise, kept rippling along the Conduit’s outer boundary. Individually they were insignificant, the sort of anomalies most officers would dismiss as static. But Deezell had been watching this region for hours, and patterns had a way of revealing themselves to patient eyes.

“Admiral, I’m picking up micro‑variations in the Conduit’s energy signature,” she reported, fingers dancing across the controls to magnify the readings. “They’re small, but they’re consistent… and increasing.”

The bridge quieted just a little, the way it always did when someone mentioned the Conduit behaving unexpectedly.

She ran another diagnostic, just to be certain. The results came back the same — faint pulses, irregular but undeniably present, like the Conduit was breathing in shallow, uneven intervals.

“It’s nothing dangerous at the moment,” Deezell added, though her voice carried the weight of a caveat, “but it’s worrying without colleagues on the other side."

Deezell exhaled slowly. Small anomalies had a habit of becoming big problems if ignored.

And something told her this was only the beginning.

Vox was correct. And what was to happen next was going to be unexpected. As everyone was keeping their eyes on the conduit and the readings, things were beginning to happen. Her OPS officer started getting concerned and spoke with urgency, “Admiral… I’m picking up irregular readings from the conduit. Very faint, but definitely there.”

Then her science officer chimed in,"Verteron levels are fluctuating. Not dangerously — just… inconsistently. Like the conduit is adjusting itself.”

Helm looked over at the science officer, then turned to T'Lar, “No turbulence. No distortion. Space looks normal.” He wasn't sure what was going on.

T'Lar asked, “Could it be the Borg ship? Some kind of harmonic scan?”

Her science officer responded, “Negative. The Borg vessel is completely passive. No emissions, no field modulation.”

The conversation continued between the bridge crew, “Readings are shifting again. Chroniton scatter increasing by point‑zero‑three.”

The helm officer was confused, “That’s barely anything.”

“Exactly. It’s subtle. Too subtle for a mechanical failure. This feels… natural.” A soft vibration hums through the deck — not an alarm, just a sensation.

Engineering responded, "Bridge, we’re detecting a mild resonance in the hull. Nothing harmful. Could be an external fluctuation.”

The ship, extremely gently, but noticeably, was swaying from the resonance effect. She was already a little queasy with being pregnant so this wasn't helping. She did her up most to not have to jump to warp off the bridge to throw up.

T'Lar was looking at the view screen and noticed something odd, "Is that my imagination or is the conduit’s surface shimmering?”

Her operations officer responded. "You're right, it is. It’s losing coherence. Slowly. I think the conduit is collapsing on its own.”

Helm officer, "No external trigger. No weapons fire. No field disruption.”

Admiral, it’s just… shutting down.” The conduit pulses once — a soft, green ripple — and then, the conduit snaps closed instantly. No shockwave. No sound. Just gone.

Everyone on the bridge gasped. The corridor that the Perseus went through was...“Conduit has fully collapsed. All readings have dropped to zero. No residual instability.”

Someone on the bridge made a comment under their breath,“That was… anticlimactic.”

Her science officer was shocked, “Admiral, whatever caused that… it wasn’t us. And it wasn’t the Borg.
It was just an anomaly.” The Borg Queen’s ship remained motionless. Silent. Watching.

T'Lar was just as shocked, “Admiral… what now?” She heard someone ask her a question but she was still processing what happened. She snapped out of it, “We hold position. Maintain scans on the conduit’s last coordinates. If this was an anomaly, it may not be finished with us yet.” She added, “Keep sensors at maximum sensitivity. I want to know the moment anything changes — even a fluctuation."

“Understood. Monitoring all subspace bands.”

T'Lar gave their situation some more thought, “And keep an open channel to the Borg vessel. If the Queen knows more, she’ll speak when she’s ready.”

The bridge settles into a tense, watchful quiet — not panicked, not fearful, just alert.

It was difficult for Ezekiel to remain silent. He was use to being in charge. Now though, he was trying to feel useful.

Dee had all the ships sensors trained on the last coordinates of the conduit. Her own sensors, her eyes, struggled to not stare at the viewscreen, where the visible aperture of the conduit once was.

The Borg Queen was very upset and frustrated that she couldn't get the conduit open. She didn't want to depend on the Essex crew but she had no choice. She contacted the Essex, "This is the Borg Queen. Admiral… this aperture refuses my command. This is… unacceptable.”

T'Lar exhaled,"We can try a few things I'm sure. I'll see what we can do. Maybe we can work together for a solution."

"We will be standing by. I leave it in your hands." The Borg Queen added, "For now."

The Borg Queen's face disappeared, the view of where the conduit was back. Deela turned to her crew, "We need a solution. If we can't get the conduit opening back, Bremer and the Perseus will be stuck there for who knows how long, maybe forever. Any suggestions?"

" Admiral, I honestly don't know. I am running a whole load of simulations through the computer right now to find something, anything that has a chance of working. Despite it being closed, there is still a detectable signature. I've locked out sensors on it for the time being."

Vox replied extremely frustrated.

Ezekiel was at the Tactical station reviewing the ship placements. Right now Starfleet was trying to gather more ships but they were still a ways out. Minimum of 3 hours before any reinforcements could arrive. Paul was the closest support vessel. And hopefully his expertise would be able to help them. He wondered what the sensors were picking up.

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