The bridge of the USS Cardinal hummed with the low vibration of the starship’s systems. Gentle light filtered indirectly from overhead panels. Classic LCARS style duty stations flickered alongside attentive officers. It had been thirty-five minutes since the start of Alpha Shift. Ship chronometers struck 0835 hours as the rear bridge doors whisked open.

Commander Marlon Smythe and Lt. M’Row walked together. Broad-shouldered Smythe entered first. Beside him, M’Row’s feline frame twitched with visible tiredness. Furry, pointed ears rotated as they scanned his surroundings. A fluffy orange tail swished in small, distracted movements. The executive officer’s longer strides made him appear more relaxed than M’Row’s quick steps.

Captain Raku turned in his chair to watch them. His brown features were set against the olive tone of his Bajoran skin. Deep-set eyes carried the weight of command.

“Lieutenant,” Raku began curiously “how did Delta shift go?”

M’Row dropped lightly into his seat at the Ops station. He shifted to look back at the captain. His one blue eye and one violet-red eye stared as he replied, “Oh Captain, Delta shift went as well as one can expect when you start at two in the morning. That said…” His ears flattened slightly as frustration crept through him, “…perhaps it’s time we revisited the whole four-shift model. A lot of other ship crews work clean eight-hour stretches. Working an extra four or six hours only happens during emergencies. The idea of breaking the day into four chunks sounded good at first. But right now?” His whiskers twitched. “I feel like a horse that’s been trotted around the paddock one time too many.”

Captain Raku blinked, caught off guard by the Caitian’s candor. He leaned back as his fingers drummed lightly against the armrest of his chair. “You surprise me, Lieutenant. You were one of the strongest voices for the inclusion of Delta shift.” It had been three months since the schedule change had been implemented.

“I know,” M’Row admitted with a shrug. His tail darted with a curved jolt of movement. “But that was in theory. In practice? ‘Exhausting’ is the word.”

Raku nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll consider it. We’ll set a meeting soon.”

Lt. JG Crismarlyn Ruiz shifted behind the helm controls. One hand lazily spun the control interface as she tracked the Cardinal’s flightpath. The mischievous half-smile on her lips widened. “For what it’s worth,” she said, “we’re thirty-six hours from Sevury. We’re also about forty-five minutes from the Breen border, if we took on a trailing vector.”

“Maintain warp seven-point-five,” Raku ordered.

Ruiz’s hands danced confidently across the controls. The ship responded like an extension of the woman’s instincts. “Warp seven-point-five, aye.”

From the large Intel station along the rear wall of the bridge, Lt. JG Itata sh’Zeles’s antennae perked sharply. She tapped through a scrolling feed of sensor telemetry. Her cerulean face scrunched into a tight expression as she focused. “Captain, the nearest Breen vessels are moving along a trailing vector on their side of the border. They spent time near the Pesak Repair Yards on our side of the fence. Their heading indicates they are leaving the region at a speed of warp six.”

Commander Smythe’s honey-brown eyes glinted with amusement. “For me, sir? Coffee breaks are all I need to go the distance. I can handle back-to-back shifts just fine.” He recently returned to the bridge after a break for breakfast with M’Row. The command staff hoped extra breaks for rest and food would make the double shift more tolerable

M’Row spoke through a purring chirp. “You’re human. Your kind thrives on punishment.”

Before Smythe could quip back, the bridge lurched into a violent standstill. The Cardinal shuddered as it flung officers forward in their seats. Raku grabbed the arms of his chair to stop from being thrown forward. His body tensed as consoles around the bridge chirped warning tones.

“Red alert. Report!” The captain stood, brushed off his uniform and looked over each officer.

“We’ve been pulled from warp,” Ruiz barked as she braced her arms against the helm console.

“Inertial dampeners caught most of the recoil”, said M’Row. “But I’m reading minor damage along the aft section of decks seven through ten in the EPS relays.”

“Bring us back to warp!” Raku snapped.

Ruiz’s hands flew across her console. The stars ahead streaked brilliantly for an instant, only for the ship to buck again. A sharp tearing sensation rattled the hull. Radiant streaks stuttered before they again collapsed into points of starlight.

“Our warp bubble has destabilized,” T’Naagi reported anxiously from the science station. The green-gold Orion’s almond-shaped eyes were wide at the thought of being stranded. A fear of being lost in space crept deeper into her thoughts.

“Confirmed,” M’Row added grimly. His ears sat low and forward. “I’m reading a gravimetric polaron field. Source is… there.” He stabbed at his controls. His tail twitched as he spoke. “It is emitting from a metallic structure.”

“On screen.”

The main viewer flared to life. Against the stars drifted a small alien station, weathered and ancient. Its hull was composed of strange lattices of dark metal. Wide, black viewports were speckled amidst a ragged docking ring. Illuminated panels flickered intermittently along its flanks like a dying pulse in the void.

“Scan it,” Raku ordered.

sh’Zeles adjusted her sensors. “No life signs aboard, Captain. The station appears to be adrift, seemingly on a course from Breen space. Its construction dates to approximately four hundred and twenty years ago. Internal organic residue suggests prior habitation, but I’m not reading any organic signs of life newer than four centuries old.”

Raku’s brow furrowed. “Ruiz, try again. Warp seven.”

Ruiz complied. The warp engines spooled. Stars around the station on screen stretched into blue-white streaks. The momentary expansion of the bubble collapsed violently in a matter of seconds. The ship shuddered as sparks flew from an auxiliary panel.

“Warp bubble collapse seems unavoidable,” T’Naagi stated solemnly. A frightful look reflected through her normally calm, pensive features.

M’Row growled low in his throat. “That polaron field’s interference is too strong. It’s locking us in here.”

Commander Smythe’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward Raku. “Captain, we may need to send an away team. There must be a way for us to disengage that field.”

Raku hesitated amidst the flashing lights of Red Alert status.

M’kath broke the silence. The Klingon’s deep voice rumbled as he leaned over the tactical controls. “Captain. Advanced targeting scanners in the sensor pod have localized the source of the gravimetric disturbance. A tank cluster appears to be connected to a central nodule. A conical emitter seems to power the field.”

Raku was already on his feet. He leapt down the blue light-ringed short step from the command platform and up the ramp formed by the crescent like ring behind the command station. M’kath waited like a statue of muscle and unbreakable bone. The Klingon’s tan-brown hair was pulled tight into a warrior’s tail.

The tactical display highlighted the emitter in glowing red pulses of light.

“Captain,” Smythe said carefully, “if we fire, we’re striking Breen property. It could be taken as aggression, even if the station is abandoned.”

“It’s drifted across from their border,” Raku said sharply, “We are immobilized because of it. There’s no life aboard the husk. There has likely been no claim for four centuries.”

M’Row glanced back over his shoulder. His expressive ears danced nervously. “Captain, I remind you that I’m running on no sleep and far too much starch. If you send me over there, I’ll probably faint halfway through the crawlspace.”

Raku knew the Caitian was just being honest. The crew was tired. Too tired. The four-shift schedule had promised balance. The strain showed now, when precision mattered most. He made two silent decisions in that moment. He knew the station needed to be destroyed. He also knew the Cardinal must return to three shifts.

He drew in a slow breath, then gave the order. “Maneuver Beta-Beta Three. Fire aft torpedoes on my mark.”

M’kath’s head snapped to meet the captain’s gaze after focusing on the target. “Yes, Captain.”

“Ruiz,” Raku barked as he turned sharply and walked back down towards the command section. “Break hard to port, full impulse. Get us clear.”

The helm responded instantly. Ruiz grinned as her hands moved like greased lightning. “Banking hard now!” The Cardinal swung with breathtaking speed as the glowing impulse engines roared to life.

“Aft launchers ready,” M’kath growled.

“Fire!”

Two torpedoes streaked forward, trailed by glowing crimson tails. They struck the emitter cluster with a full-frontal impact. The station bloomed with a violent shockwave that sent scattered fragments outwards like burning leaves.

The gravimetric field collapsed instantly.

sh’Zeles’s voice cut through a few hushed cheers of sudden relief. “Captain! Those Breen ships I mentioned are now on an intercept course. Three vessels, warp eight, closing fast.”

“Resume course!” Raku barked. “Warp nine. Now!”

Ruiz punched the command. The warp engines howled as the surrounding stars once again stretched into timeless rays. For a heartbeat, the bubble threatened to fail again. Everyone could feel the jump to warp was prolonged. With a wrenching surge, the Cardinal leapt to warp in a vibrant streak of light and energy.

The station behind them erupted into a rolling inferno of debris before it imploded into a final flash of existence.