[[OOC: As it happens, someone jumped the gun on the advent of the escape pod. According to Sam Esposito/ Kyp Firespray’s ‘Apocalypse’, the pod is on the Alpha/Beta Quadrant Borderlands, some 3000 light years away. At warp 9, it would still take over a year to achieve that point. However, if there was ever a hint that I wasn’t getting this ship mobile fast enough, that was it. So, with the exception of some added information, this post picks up the ball, runs, and resets the stage. If this note sounds like a gripe, it’s not. I needed a kick, and I got one. Say goodbye to the Alpha Quad folks!]]

<<Stardate: 47307.16- 13:34>>

<<Bridge>>

Commander Epic Terrakian sensed before he saw a disturbance in his peripheral vision. The hairs at the nape of his neck bristled, as if with a building static shock. A shock that quickly achieved critical potency, then exploded in a silent flash of scintillating light. And born of this quiet concussion that forced all to cover against the glare, stood a woman.

She was a dark-haired beauty, wearing the disheveled uniform of a Federation Marine. Epic immediately felt her confusion and fatigue, the fatigue growing greater as she staggered, catching herself on the edge of the Conn.

François DeMontigny moved to catch her before she collapsed, but Epic was swifter and closer, supporting her beneath her arms. She turned her face up to him, and he felt her own mind reaching out to his. And before she slipped into the blackness of total unconsciousness, Epic felt from her a poignant sadness. No. Not sadness. Pity. Pity, for him. Despite the oddity of it, he felt nothing. "Medical Team to the Bridge.", Epic tapped his commbadge as he settled the woman into the Captains Chair.

"Beautiful women appearing out of thin air... I am DEFINITELY going to like this assignment.", DeMontigny flippantly offered. The cold look Terrakian favored him with amply conveyed his lack of amusement. DeMontigny grimaced and found his attention distracted.

LT. DeMontigny moved to the Conn. and stabbed at the display. "Commander, a wormhole is forming in the system.... and something is coming out of it."

Epic whirled to look at the man. ‘A wormhole?!’ In the Sol System. Epic spun to look toward the Ready Room. He saw Q standing silently still, a small smile on her face. No one else seemed to even notice the blond Admiral standing there.

The turbolift opened, admitting a solid looking man. He stepped up to the rail, to the right of Tactical, and watched in some confusion. Epic couldn’t blame him. The Commander, himself, was confused. Epic looked to Tactical. The young woman standing there nearly froze in panic when his icy blue eyes grabbed her, but she fell immediately to her sensors, her fingers coaxing the information his insistent gaze demanded.

In the brief pause, Lt. Cara Hatcher entered the Bridge. She did a swift visual surveillance of the situation, then acted. She was fluid and machine precise. If not for the excitement that radiated from her like heat, Epic might have thought he was the only flesh and blood officer on this ship.

Hatcher slapped her already drawn phaser into the hand of her assistant, Deric Stone, Epic remembered from his bio, then stripped him of his own weapon. She trained it on the unconscious intruder, and slid in beside her Tactical Officer.

"Receiving a distress signal from it, sir.", the nervous woman called. "Indications of a lifeform aboard, sir. Lifesigns are stable. Looks to be some sort of escape pod."

Cara Hatcher hip-checked her officer a step to the left as her fingers danced across the panel. She shook her head. "Commander, signal degradation suggests that this transmission has come a long way.", she immediately calculated the processed information. "About 3000 light years." Then, she looked up at her officer, a small sneer showing in her reprimand. "At Warp 9, it would take over a year to reach the source of this signal."

"It is obviously a powerful transmission source.", responded Prexis at Sciences.

François, at the Conn., ignoring the silent protests of the resident Operations Officer, read from a display and reported. "Starfleet has issued an order for the Science Vessel ‘Indiana’ to intercept. The ‘Indiana’ will arrive within four days, travelling at Warp 5." DeMontigny shook his head. "I didn’t even know we had anyone out that far."

Epic restrained his initial impulse to quell the chaotic confusion that his Bridge erupted into with a shout. Instead, he spoke quietly, so quietly, that all had to still themselves just to hear him. "Lt. DeMontigny, return to your station. Lt. Hatcher. Stone, secure those weapons. This woman is not a threat, she is apparently a casualty. We are still in Spacedock and we are still at Alert status. That escape pod and that wormhole is of no concern to us...." "The wormhole has already destabilized, sir.", Prexis interrupted from Sciences. Epic almost growled. He reiterated. "That wormhole... does... NOT... concern us..."

"Quite the contrary.", the blond Admiral suddenly spoke. All on the Bridge turned to face her, surprised by her sudden appearance, yet aware that she had stood there all the while. "That escape pod was the last thing I was waiting for."

Epic stood away from the limp woman in the Big Chair and slowly turned toward the Q. She smiled broadly, her enthusiasm peaking. "What are you saying." This time, Epic did growl. "I am saying, O Fierce One...", she teased like a schoolgirl. "It is time to depart."

Then, she snapped her fingers, and in the blinking flash of a prismatic strobe, all felt the sudden dislocation of movement. And just as suddenly, stillness.

At the Conn., the officer at station fumbled nervously at the controls. He stopped, waggled, then did it again. He looked stupidly aghast as he turned to the Captains Chair. "Commander,...", he was barely able to speak. ".. We are no longer orbiting Earth." Epic waited for the man to regain his composure. But, he wasn’t going to wait that long.

"Where are we!?", he barked at the Conn., though his eyes burned on the Q.

"Sir...", the officer swallowed hard. "...we are 2873 light years from our original position..."

"In the Alpha Sindri system.", the Vulcan Prexis offered from Sciences.

"Commander.", Cara Hatcher called from Tactical. "Lifepod off our hull at mark 330. Our bearing is 000. We are at the same orientation, just 3000 light years away."

At the Conn., the officer, Epic really had to ask that guy his name, brought the main viewer on-line. The Bridge was filled with the brilliant light that was the image of the Galactic Core. Epic never took his eyes off the beautiful blond Q. "Tactical, put a tractor on that pod and pull it into shuttlebay 4." At that moment, the Medical team arrived, stalling long enough to gawk at the view on the main viewer before moving to the woman that Epic indicated with a solidly rigid finger.

"Captain to the Bridge.", Epic called as he tapped his commbadge.

Things were now, officially, out of hand.

<<More to follow>>