Simulation Gone Wrong

Posted on Wed Oct 28th, 2026 @ 4:13pm by Captain Piraa sh'Zamhlass & Commander T'Zara & Lieutenant T'Razz & EDEN

3,283 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Green Sky
Location: USS Valiant, Bridge
Timeline: 1100 hours

Captain sh’Zamhlass didn’t like this one bit. Though the engineering side of her appreciated the mission, she hated performing as an observer. EDEN had remained on the bridge, communicating with the different teams, and all of their progress consumed the viewscreen. There was just so much data pouring in. Away Team member vitals, information learned and parsed from the teams, probable outcomes, and even simulated numbers on the phenomena that had consumed the planet.

Piraa could hear every word from Commander T’Zara and Commander Corwin, not to mention the frustrations coming from the overheard colonists. The Efrosian Administrator alone seemed like a piece of work.

But her ears could not ignore the static and her antenna remained erect, as if they could sense something was amiss. The Captain even performed a level 5 diagnostic using her armrest controls to check the transceiver array, but she could not determine whether or not the low-level interference was by simulation design or real.

What was real though was the familiar sound of communications channels closing. “Are comms supposed to go down in this simul… situation?” She asked aloud to the room, even though the question was directed at EDEN.

"Negative," EDEN said immediately. "Strengthening gain." There was the slightest of pauses. "There is some form of interference from outside the colony and parameters of the mission, Captain."

"Outside the parameters?" Piraa asked, straightening her posture. She then remembered she was talking to a holographic construct, so the Captain changed her approach. "Analyze and intrepret."

"Unable to comply," EDEN said. "Interference is increasing."

“Yellow alert,” Piraa commanded, rising from her chair. Whatever their situation was evolving into, one thing was certain: the simulation was over. It seemed that Project EDEN would now be facing a true trial by fire. “EDEN, begin adjusting mission parameters to include this interference. It’s about to become our priority.”

The Captain took a moment to think. Valiant was already understaffed, an intentional decision made by Command due to the nature of the mission and the lack of personnel following Frontier Day. And she was without key Senior Staff members. Executive, Science, Engineering, and Security were all on the planet below. She was left with Medical, and if there was a crisis on their hands, then it was likely the good doctor was about to be bombarded.

Piraa immediately tapped her badge. “Bridge to Doctor T’Razz.”

In sickbay, T'Razz perked up, his ears twitching a bit and his tail swaying. Had something gone wrong with the away team? Whatever it was, it was his responsibility as CMO to take the lead now on anything medical. There was no one else to tell him what he needed to do.

He took a deep breath. "T'Razz here. Go ahead, captain."

"We've lost contact with the away team and the colony," the Captain answered plainly. "You don't need to come up here, but I wanted you to be aware that you are now the acting executive officer."

Well, that was certainly not the kind of thing that T'Razz had expected to hear when he'd started his shift that morning. "Understood, Captain," he said. "Let me know what you require, if anything."

EDEN flickered briefly as it used the additional computing power of the Valiant and its own stores to adjust for the unknown variant. "Compensating for interference. Detecting tachyon particles increasing within one hundred thousand kilometers."

"Tachyons?" Piraa asked, looking over to the holographic projection. Her eyes squinted as she ran through possible scenarios. "Are we looking at a forming subspace distortion or temporal anomaly?"

"Subspace distortion in a localized area off the port bow, Captain. It is closing." EDEN said. 

“Is it attracted to something, like a warp signature or the deflector frequency?” The engineer inside of the Captain asked. Deep down, she didn’t want to admit the worst possible conclusion. 

The view screen confirmed it for her, however. Amidst the stars that surrounded the planet was a slight ripple. That ripple grew until a mess of color started the bleed through. Slowly but swiftly, the ripple dissolved into a Romulan warbird, a massive ship four times the Valiant’s size. 

Piraa’s mouth uttered a single Andorian curse. Romulans. What the hell were they doing here?

“Red alert!” She exclaimed. “Battlestations. EDEN, tell me about that warbird.”

"Romulan ships decloaking!" EDEN called out and brought the master display screen up.

A Dhailkhina‑class command warbird emerged first, its cloak peeling away in a ripple of green light. The ship’s long, predatory frame unfurled like a blade being drawn, wings angled downward in a posture that feels almost ceremonial in its aggression. A faint plasma wake shimmers along its ventral lines, pulsing in time with the ship’s command‑and‑control signature as it asserts its presence across the battlespace.

A heartbeat later, three T’Liss‑class Birds‑of‑Prey snap into visibility around it. One decloaks high, two low, forming a trident around the Dhailkhina. Their compact hulls appear with sharp emerald flashes, disruptor nodes already glowing with stored energy. Each ship banks outward in a coordinated sweep, establishing a rotating kill‑cone designed to collapse on a single target with ruthless efficiency.

Then the Romulan drone ships materialize—dozens of them—flickering into view like a cloud of metallic hornets. They shift and reconfigure in fluid patterns, forming a protective lattice around the larger vessels. Constant motion defines them: screening incoming fire, probing for weaknesses, and preparing to overwhelm defenses with synchronized micro‑strikes.

"One Dhailkhina class flagship, three T'Liss class Birds of Prey, ninety-six drone ships," EDEN reported and began to list their capabilities.

Aside from the alert klaxon, one could hear a pin drop on the bridge. Piraa fought to keep herself from gasping, attempting her best to maintain her composure. "EDEN," Piraa asked, her tone shaky and betraying her emotions, "I think this qualifies as a disaster. Start working on possibilities on recovering our team members and the colonists."

"Affirmative," EDEN said before beginning to run computations through the ships computer at a speed no human could hope to match. 

“Captain?” spoke up a Grazerite Ensign at Tactical. “Incoming hail from the Romulans.”

The day just kept getting worse for Piraa. Here she was, an untested Captain, staring down uncounted Romulan disruptors on her first official mission. “Let’s not keep them waiting,” she muttered. With a tug, she straightened her uniform. “On screen.”

No sooner did the Grazerite nod did the screen flicker to show a stoic Romulan in full flag officer attire. “Federation starship, this planet is hereby annexed by the Romulan Star Empire. Your ship and crew are considered prisoners of war. You have one minute to lower your shields and surrender, or you will be destroyed.”

The screen went blank, then transitioned back to the image of the invading fleet. 

"Captain," EDEN said after the channel closed. "I have a solution. I can use controlled subspace distortions to fold transporter signals around hostile emissions. By generating a localized subspace sheath around the Valiant, it will dampen incoming Romulan sensor pulses. Within this protective bubble, I may be able to identify pockets of stable subspace—brief windows where transporter beams can slip through without decohering. There is a problem with that, though."

Piraa blinked, surprised by EDEN's potential solution. Apparently, EDEN's designers had found a way for it to generate wild ideas. Whether or not EDEN could implement such solutions remained to be seen. "What, pray tell, would that be?"

"We will need to use the energy from the Romulans firing at us," EDEN stated.

"Not to mention that shields will have to be down to transport everyone aboard," Piraa remarked. The Andorian sighed, and her antenna drooped slightly. "How long will this take to set up?"

"To beam colonists from the surface, shields must drop in controlled pulses,” EDEN stated. "I can beam twenty to thirty colonists per cycle. The shields‑down duration will be point one eight seconds with a recharge of point nine seconds. Extended pulses of up to point three seconds if distortions weaken. However, the T’Liss disruptor nodes may fire during recharge intervals."

"And if we don't have comms, then establishing transporter locks with the Away Team and colonists is another challenge," pointed out the Captain. "I doubt the Romulans let those pattern enhancers stay online. What about launching or beaming down probes to help with pattern locks?"

“Captain, your assessment is correct. Without functioning comms, establishing transporter locks on the Away Team and the colonists becomes significantly more complex. Pattern enhancers on the surface are almost certainly offline—either destroyed or jammed by Romulan interference. We must create new anchor points.”

EDEN raised a hand and a holographic model of the planet appears, dotted with flickering transporter‑signal voids.

“I can deploy micro‑probes configured to generate localized subspace anchors. These probes will act as temporary pattern enhancers, broadcasting a stable lock even without comms.”

EDEN shifted the hologram to show small devices descending through atmosphere.

“If you prefer transporter deployment, I can beam down subspace‑relay probes. These devices create a distortion bubble that the Away Team can enter, allowing me to lock onto them even without comms. “Even without comms, tricorders emit low‑level subspace signatures. I can amplify these passively, but the lock will be weaker and require longer shield‑down intervals.”

“Captain, whichever method you choose, I must synchronize shield pulses with the Romulan weapons cycles. The Dhailkhina’s plasma‑lance buildup and the T’Liss disruptor shadows remain exploitable. Drone‑ship eddies can also stabilize transporter signals if timed correctly.”

"Captain!" called out the Grazerite, a trilling sound emanating from his console. "The Romulans are hailing."

Piraa frowned while her antenna arced backwards. "We've run out of time," she stated to EDEN. "How soon can you be ready to initiate all of this?"

"Which do you prefer, Captain?" EDEN asked.

"Transporter deployment," the Captain quickly replied. "Less chance of interception, and less chance they'll be shot down after launch."

“Each probe takes approximately 4.1 seconds from initiation to atmospheric insertion. Once activated, each probe generates a distortion bubble the Away Team or colonists can enter, allowing me to establish a transporter lock even without comms. The shield‑down window for each probe is exactly 0.18 seconds. No more." EDEN said before it continued.

"If you choose to deploy three probes—one for the Away Team, two for colonist clusters—the total shield‑down exposure will be 0.54 seconds spread across three pulses. “This is significantly safer than tricorder‑amplification or drone‑lattice transport. Relay probes offer the most stable locks under comms blackout conditions.”

"Captain..." called out the Grazerite, his tone dripping with concern.

"Target locks!" shouted an Efrosian at the science station. "Bridge. Nacelles, Main deflector. Weapons clusters."

Piraa had little choice except to spring into action, with or without experience. "Full evasive," she called out. "Defer all shield and transporter control to EDEN. Target anything that gets close with the point-defense turrets, and that includes torpedoes."

"I will assume full control of shield cycling and transporter operations. Helm evasive maneuvers will be synchronized with my distortion‑mapping algorithms." EDEN said.

The Andorian Captain took in a deep breath. Just a couple of days ago, they'd all been wary of Mariwat's construct. Now here they were banking all of their lives on a highly complex assembly of algorithms and computerized simulations. The ship banking hard to the left as the helmsman dodged three plasma torpedoes quickly brought her back to attention. "Get this started, EDEN!"

“Captain, initiating first probe deployment. Synchronizing shield pulse with Dhailkhina plasma‑lance buildup.”

"I sure hope you know what you're doing," Piraa whispered. Changing tones and intensity, Piraa returned to the center seat. "Helm, favor a high orbit for now off the starboard bow. Angle our ship so that the bridge is out of direct line of fire."

EDEN spoke before the helm could acknowledge the order. “Captain, the Dhailkhina is initiating a plasma‑lance firing cycle. Estimated discharge in 1.7 seconds.”

The warbird’s forward lance capacitors bloom with light—three staggered pulses that EDEN highlights in red. The ship’s entire prow seems to fold forward, channeling energy into a single, needle‑thin point.

Piraa gripped the edges of her chair as the ship lurched starboard. Her eyes remained fixed on the viewscreen, surprised at how few ships were actually firing at the Valiant. Though if she were to pause and consider the opposition, she supposed that the Romulans were being selective in their targeting, either to conserve ammunition or wanting to be sure they weren't going to risk hitting one of their own with a stray torpedo.

"Adjust evasive vector—forty‑three degrees starboard. I am refracting the lance wake through our shields.” EDEN called out the commands and made millions of calculations per nanosecond.

The Captain watched as the lance struck the Valiant's forward shields. The ship shuddered first from the kinetic impact, but no damage was reported. Her eyes then followed the green lance as the energy surged backwards, penetrating the Romulan shields.

A shockwave of subspace distortion rippled outward from the Dhailkhina.

“Impact pattern will be linear, high‑penetration. They are attempting to pin our trajectory.”

The warbird fired and a spear of green‑white plasma tears across the battlespace, not explosive but precise, like a surgeon’s scalpel aimed at the Duderstadt’s predicted flight path. The beam dragged a wake of subspace turbulence behind it, warping the sensor grid.

"Brace for impact!" Piraa called out as the helm moved to evade the plasma beam. The helmsman was not fully successful, and the ship wound up grazing the weapons fire. "What the hell was that!?"

For a fraction of a second, EDEN seemed almost hesitant.

"That was not a conventional plasma-lance impact."

The hologram expanded a tactical display above the command pit. The green beam's trajectory replayed itself.

"The initial strike on our forward shields behaved as predicted. However, a significant portion of the energy did not disperse upon contact."

The recording slowed.

What had appeared to be a solid beam was actually a complex structure of intertwined energy streams rotating around a narrow subspace core.

"The weapon maintained coherence after shield contact and used our shield harmonics as a propagation medium. It rode the outer layer of the shield envelope before continuing along the hull perimeter."

"Captain!" called out the tactical officer. "Sensors are showing we've been tagged by ten vessels with target locks."

"Dammit," hissed Piraa as she gripped the front of both armrests. "EDEN, as ambitious as your plan is, we have to expect that the Romulans have more new firepower than we've anticipated. We're going to take another couple of hits, but we're going to get the hell out of here. Helm, set a course and let's move."

The Valiant swept to portside at a sharp angle while evading more fire as EDEN took control of the ship.

"Incoming!" shouted the tactical chief as the viewscreen shifted, revealing a barrage of torpedoes on the way. The firing emitters from three different warbirds began to glow, hinting that the nonconventional lances were about to return.

And sure enough, they did. The first lance went wide, narrowly missing another Romulan vessel. The second grazed the port shield envelope, sending power feedback through to the emitters. And the third struck directly on the aft quarter. The shields absorbed some of the blast, but the narrow subspace core breached the shields, sending the remains of the lance alongside the engineering hull.

On the bridge, the science console let loose a volley of sparks, sending the operator into a frenzied panic. The Efrosian ensign screamed, holding a charred hand as he fell to the ground. Piraa herself had to dodge a shower of sparks and debris that fell from overhead.

"Damage report!" shouted the Captain. "Bridge to Sickbay, medical team to the bridge!"

"Aft shields reduced to thirty-nine percent. Subspace contamination detected along the engineering hull. Engineering sections six through nine are reporting localized power fluctuations. No catastrophic breaches detected." EDEN read off the reports like it as a Tuesday briefing as she kept the ship moving and evading.

In sickbay, T'Razz heard the captain's call. "On our way, Captain," he said. For the moment at least there seemed to be no pressing medical emergencies occurring. "I'll be right back," he told the other medical personnel. "So far we don't seem to have casualties, but be prepared for receiving more, and soon." He grabbed a newer nurse and headed to the bridge. Upon arrival, they found one injured officer at science with a hand injury and, scanning it with a tricorder, began working on it.

"Subspace contamination?" Piraa asked, surprised by the announcement. "Helm, how are we doing getting out of here?"

"The Romulans have us nearly surrounded," the helmsman said, his eyes darting from the viewscreen to the controls and back again. "There's an opening off the starboard bow, but that takes us into the atmosphere."

The Andorian Captain's eyes remained fixed on the viewscreen as her attention turned to the holographic construct. "EDEN, switch our shields to metaphasic. Then, let's dump a payload of quantum torpedoes set for timed detonation. If we set those off just before entering the atmosphere, it should blind the Romulan sensors long enough to skip off the atmosphere and go to warp."

"Matching," EDEN said as it performed a rolling modulation of the shields to metaphasic, then unleashed the quantum torpedoes to cause the brightest explosions.

"Reverse plot on viewer! Helm, warp us now!" Piraa shouted, rising from her chair. Just as the torpedoes began to detonate, the Valiant hit the outermost layer of atmosphere and launched itself into warp. As expected, the ship suffered some mild turbulence, but thankfully nothing exploded.

The Captain stood still for a moment, thinking about the hundreds of lives that they just stranded on the planet, prisoners of the Romulan Empire, or whatever organization this claimed to be. She couldn't leave them, but she certainly couldn't sacrifice the ship on a fool's errand. There had to be a way.

"EDEN, as soon as possible, I need a full damage assessment," the Andorian said, whipping around to her. "And, Doctor, I need a complete crew assessment as soon as possible. We need to be ready to join up with the fleet, or dive back in there."

"The metaphasic shield transition successfully prevented further penetration by Romulan lance weapons during atmospheric insertion. However, the earlier breach generated residual subspace contamination along the engineering hull."

"What sort of contamination?" Piraa asked?

EDEN tilted its head slightly, as if considering how best to translate a flood of technical diagnostics into something useful in the middle of a crisis.

"The term contamination is not biological or chemical in nature, Captain."

A holographic cross-section of the Valiant's engineering hull appeared above the command pit. Thin strands of green and blue energy crawled along the outer hull plating like cracks in glass.

"The Romulan lance introduced residual subspace shear into the hull's structural field and adjacent EPS network. In simple terms, fragments of the weapon's subspace wake remain embedded in the space around portions of the ship."

"Great," Piraa muttered. As an engineer, all she understood was that the Romulans had planted some kind of tracker on the ship whether they intended to or not. "Let's see if we can scrub that off. In the meantime, let's find a place where we can regroup. If there's a way to get our crew and those colonists back, I want to explore those options."

 

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