The medical lab where Lieutenant Commander Craig Cruikshank and Doctor Sriarr M’Ress had been working for the past four hours was quiet, save for the soft beeps and chimes of the medical equipment. Sriarr had turned the lights down, a precaution in case the creature they had recovered from the surface (which they had designated ‘Subject Epsilon’) was light sensitive. He wanted to avoid overstimulation for a creature as apparently dangerous as this. 

Craig was standing at the main console, surrounded on three sides by layered holographic projections. Subject Epsilon’s form dominated his viewspace as a multicoloured projection showing bone density, muscle structure, and cardiovascular mapping in a mixture of the familiar and the grotesque. 

The actual body lay unmoving on a biobed, behind a shimmering biocontainment field. Although it was humanoid in physical form, it was a ghost of what it would have otherwise looked like. Its skin was mottled and taut, almost waxy in places, overlaid with a faint sheen like iridescent armour. Its limbs were thin and sinewy, its arms ending in elongated hands, each thick finger tipped in a razor sharp claw that glinted as if it was made of metal. Behind its thin, cracked lips were two rows of long, sharp teeth, serrated like a shark’s tooth, with the same metallic gleam. 

Sriarr moved slowly around it, scanning its form with his tricorder. He leaned in closely, his sharp Caitian eyes focusing on the minute twitches of Subject Epsilon’s fingers. He looked up towards Craig. “It’s metabolizing the sedative faster than we anticipated.” he said, his ear twitching, “Even when it’s unconscious, it is compensating.”

“He’s not built like anything I’ve ever seen.” Craig said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Here, take a look.” With a flick of his wrist, one of the holographic displays whipped around. “See this subdermal lattice? Carbon-threaded microfilaments that reinforce his musculature. His tendons are semi-elastic, making them resistant to incredible strain or sudden decompression.”

The Doctor’s ears tilted back ever so slightly. “So he could survive in space.” 

Craig gave a tired nod. “Exactly. Everything about his physiology seems impossible.”

Sriarr adjusted one of the biobeds monitors with a flick of his furred finger. His tail twitched with unease. “I said the same thing about the Jem’Hadar once.”

“And it’s not just his body.” Craig continued, “It’s his code. Someone has completely rewritten the genetic code. They combined human, Romulan and Cardassian DNA with synthetic sequences. Plus, I’ve found traces of neural implants wired into the limbic system.”

Sriarr cocked his head to one side. “Behavioral conditioning?” 

“That’s the most likely, yes.” Craig replied, “but it could also be a fail-safe. There is evidence of stress markers in the tissue, which means he probably fought his conditioning.”

“So there’s a chance the programming didn’t stick cleanly?” Sriarr asked.

Craig nodded again. “Which might explain his moment of lucidity back on the planet’s surface.”

Sriarr looked at Craig with a note of concern in his eyes. “Do you think he’s sentient, or do you think he’s still an experiment?”

“That is the question, isn’t it.” Craig responded. 

Suddenly, Subject Epsilon stirred. Just a twitch – a momentary flex of the fingers, but it caused both of them to freeze suddenly. The pair of officers watched the thing’s neural activity spike, sharp and fast. Craig hovered his hand over the sedative button, but didn’t press it. 

Subject Epsilon’s lips parted, then it whispered, so low it was barely audible. 

“…where?…” 

Craig and Sriarr looked at each other, stunned. The neural activity spike dropped again, and the creature fell back into its motionless sedated state. A heavy silence fell on the lab, punctuated by the creature’s shallow, ragged breaths and the beeps and trills of the medical equipment. 

The air in the Captain’s ready room was tense and heavy with the weight of what was uncovered. Scott sat behind his desk, elbows on its surface and his hands folded in front of his face. Craig sat opposite him, a PADD in his hands. Sriarr was pacing slowly between the desk and the door, his tail flicking anxiously. 

Scott broke the silence first. “Okay… so what are our options?” 

Craig leaned forward, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We’ve sedated the subject. His vitals are stable, but only just. His genome isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before, but it’s human – at least, part of it is.”

The Doctor stopped pacing, coming to stand beside Craig. “I believe it might be possible to reach the subject. It exhibits moments of lucidity. If we proceed cautiously, and compassionately, there might be a chance for rehabilitation.”

Scott narrowed his eyes at Sriarr. “Do you really think what’s left of him can be recovered?”

“I think we have a moral responsibility to try, at least.” Sriarr answered. 

No one spoke for a long moment. Then, Scott exhaled slowly. “Alright. Keep it isolated, sedated if necessary. There will be no personnel in the room alone with it. You know what I expect if it starts to destabilize.” He finished, looking at them with a grave expression. They both nodded in agreement. 

The comm chimed, just as the red lights flashed on and the klaxon began to sound. Bridge to Captain Bowman. We need you on the bridge, Sir.

“I’m on my way.” Scott responded, standing at once. 

Scott walked determinedly through the doors to the bridge. “Report.” he ordered, reaching his chair and sitting down. 

The ensign at tactical responded, “Captain, a ship just decloaked at the edge of the system. It looks like a Cardassian ship, Galor-class. It’s old, but operational. It’s powering weapons, Sir.”

“Hail them.” Scott responded. 

There was a tense moment of silence before the main viewscreen lit up. The face that filled it was aged, withered with time but intense and angry. One eye was covered by a crude patch. His uniform was tattered, faded, and even patched in places. When he spoke, his voice was rough and hoarse. 

“I am Gul Sarvek of the Krevak. You have trespassed into Cardassian territory. Leave now, or prepare to be fired upon.”

Scott stood from his chair and stared down the ragged Gul. “Gul Sarvek, this is Captain Scott Bowman of the Federation Starship USS Leif Erikson. The war is over, and it has been for nearly thirty years. We are not your enemies anymore.”

Gul Sarvek’s mouth curled into a sneer. “I will not be swayed by your lies, Captain. You have three minutes to comply.” Without another word, the feed cut off, and Scott was left staring into the black curtain of stars outside the viewscreen.

The ensign at tactical spoke up again. “Captain, he is training his weapons on us.”

“Understood, Ensign.” Scott replied. “Shields up, yellow alert. Recall all senior staff to the bridge.”

It was less than two minutes before the senior staff had relieved the junior officers manning their stations, and stood ready for their captain to direct them. Scott stood from his chair, and straightened his uniform. “Open a channel,” he said, his voice calm but firm. The viewscreen shimmered again, and Gul Sarvek’s gaunt, tired face appeared before them.

“Gul Sarvek.” Scott began, taking a step forward, “We don’t want to fight. We are explorers, not soldiers. The Cardassian Union signed peace accords with the Federation twenty-seven years ago.” Scott motioned to Craig, who brought up a second display on the main viewscreen, showing the Treaty of Bajor being signed on Deep Space 9, along with the stardate. 

Sarvek sneered again. “Federation lies,” he spat. “Forgeries! You can’t fool me, Captain.” 

“The war is over, Sarvek. Come aboard… let me show you.” Scott pleaded.

“There can be no truth, from the mouths of butchers.” Sarvek hissed, his eyes burning with intensity and rage. The feed cut suddenly once again.

“Captain, he’s targeting our shields and weapons systems.” Vail said.

“Brace for impact. Do not return fire, Commander.” he replied. A stream of phaser fire leapt from the Krevak, and the Leif Erikson shuddered slightly. 

“Minimal damage, Captain.” Vail said, reading intently from her console. “Shields are holding at… wait, that’s less than one percent integrity loss.”

“Are you sure?” Bema asked, moving in beside her to double check the readings. After a moment, he looked back at Scott with a puzzled expression, “Captain, I don’t think that ship has the power to damage us. According to the scans it’s barely operational as is. Their power output is erratic.”
“Erratic how, Number One?” Scott asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Their systems are being rerouted manually, like they have no central control. Someone might even be patching wires as we speak.” Bema replied. 

“Do his weapons pose any real threat to us?”

“No, Captain, not presently.”

“Okay, then here’s what we do. Hold ground here, and remain at Yellow Alert. Do not fire on that ship. I am going to send a message to the Cardassian Union to see if we might get some assistance in this little misunderstanding. Number One, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room.” He then turned on his heel and left. 

The shudder of the ship passed like a muted tremor through the deck, rattling instruments faintly in their place. In the Isolation room, Subject Epsilon stirred. Nurse Thalen looked up from her console, her antennae twitching. She looked across the room to Nurse Pelham, who was by the biobed, scanning the creature with her tricorder. “That wasn’t a systems check.” she said softly. 

Pelham didn’t respond at once. She was watching Subject Epsilon’s vitals spike on her tricorder. “He’s fighting the sedative again. Increase the dose” 

The console under Thalen’s hand buzzed and flashed red. “I can’t.” She said, her voice tightening, “The IV is unresponsive.” A small hiss confirmed her suspicions, as the IV came loose from the subject and fell limply to the floor. Epsilon’s convulsions became more violent. 

“We have to get that IV back in before he wakes up!” Pelham said urgently. The creature’s body arched off the bed violently, and the metal restraints creaked loudly against the strain. Then, a wet, gasping sound escaped his throat, and he began thrashing wildly, fighting the restraints holding him to the bed. Pelham grabbed a hypospray off the tray and moved towards the biobed. “I can’t administer the hypospray through the barrier, the field is distorting too badly!” She called over her shoulder.

Thalen frantically worked the console. “I’m dropping the field. We can put it back up once he’s under.” The shimmering blue field collapsed around him with a descending whine. Pelham stepped forward cautiously, her hands shaking as she reached Subject Epsilon’s thrashing body. She laid her trembling hand on his chest, the other moving towards his carotid when his eyes suddenly snapped open, cold, black and full of fury. With a shriek of tearing metal, his arm came free, lashing out wildy at Pelham. 

With a raw, primal scream, his long, obsidian sharp claws raked Pelham across the chest, tearing deeply through her body. There was a sickening crunch of breaking bones as she was forced off her feet reeling through the air, sending dark red blood in an arc across the room, her scream cut short as she crumpled to a heap on the floor. 

Thalen stood frozen behind the console, her brain stuttering. Epsilon twisted off the bed violently, snapping the second restraint. He fell to the floor, then slowly he began to stand. At his full height he was tall, at least seven feet. His long, clawed arms hung almost to his knees, still dripping with blood from the attack. Thalen, regaining herself, slammed her hand down on the console seconds too late, and the shimmering containment field appeared around the biobed, just behind the creature. She slapped the combadge on her chest as she made for the door. “Computer, seal the door behind me! Medical Emergency! Security to the Medical Lab! Subject Epsilon is loose. Pelham is dead!”