Infiltration

Three months.

That was the length of time the Treviso Extrasolar Vessel Dalmatia was presumed missing after its crew failed to trigger the quantum beacon for scheduled communique.

Initial low-frequency radio scans, broadcast from surrounding research vessels in the Lepus Subspace Region, offered no results. The vessel was finally located stuck in geosynchronous orbit with exoplanet Chi Ori-d by the TEV Cilli, utilizing fluctuations in background radiation from the Dalmatia’s own beacon response to triangulate its coordinates against Treviso HQ. A two-month emergency rendezvous ensued to learn the fate of the ship and her crew.

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“Extraction crew, this is TEV Cilli. Pressure is stable within the docking bay. You are cleared for entry into the Dalmatia. Recover all information involving Jules Mathers and prepare for exfiltration.”

Rose and Dalton boarded the Dalmatia through a bilge access hatch; Infrared scans confirmed all non-maintenance entryways were weld-locked per the ship’s security protocol prior to the unscheduled rendezvous. Rose wheeled in a Dalton scrolled through the ship’s schematics on his PDA, comparing it to live data streaming from the Cilli.

“Is this normal?”

Rose looked back to see Dalton pacing the length of the gangway.

“Is what normal?”

“This. The live data coming from the Dalmatia suggests everything is ‘business as usual’, but… just look at it. No lights, radios are silent. Hell, we were lucky our ship’s beacon shared an entanglement.”

“You’re not wrong, apparently the company stopped doing that a few years back over budget concer-”

Rose’s response was cut short by a shrill chime. Both of their devices displayed a message:

Hydraulic Line Active

Dalton cleared his display and reviewed the lower-level blueprint one last time.

“Yeah, this one’s it. Tubes look primed?”

“Sure as hell better be!” Rose’s voice peaked her microphone as she positioned the cutter onto the upper hinge, “It’s gonna take another ten minutes to reset the claw if this isn’t the correct door. Y’know that, right?”

“I- ugh… Just do it…”

The lines feeding into main assembly jumped as a brief hydraulic shock ran threatened to yank the cutter out of Rose’s hands.

“Dammit! Forgot to open the quick-release, sorry!” She yelled as she pushed the pincers against the hinge.

Dalton’s vacant eyes belied his frustration.

“I mean it, even I don’t want to have to melt these doors off!”

The hinge tore away from the outer frame as the claw bottomed out the four pistons driving the pincers. One hinge remained, but Dalton followed Rose’s maneuver by shimming the top of the door with hollow metal spikes as a small gap appeared.

Rose wrenched the cutter off the remains of the upper hinge before setting it down in front of the door. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she raised the cutter back up to opening and

The door groaned during its final stand against the hydraulic pistons. The bottom hinge flexed and twisted under the weight of the door, slowly loosening the rivets holding it in place before the entire metal plate dropped with a deafening thud. The Dalmatia had opened itself to Rose and Dalton.

Splitting up, Dalton made for the ship’s bridge to access the mainframe interface while Rose headed to the engine bay to check for backup power delivery. Rose’s task was mostly a formality. The interior lights were present as soon as the door was first opened after breaking the upper hinge. She validated all generators were fully functional and jogged back to catch up to Dalton.

“Hey Dalton, everything should be goo- Whoa there!”

Rose found herself nearly on top of Dalton as she rounded the corner outside the engine bay.

“Ow! Jeez, Rose, watch where you’re walking next time!”

“What are you doing here? The bridge is down the hall…way…”

Rose scanned her immediate surroundings; she was, in fact, on the bridge with Dalton. Looking back confirmed she’d cleared the hallway in an instant.

“Whatever, just pay more attention next time. I’m still not getting power to the helm. Can you check if there are any junctions in the hall we might’ve missed?”

Rose groaned as she paced back down the hallway, checking the walls for any electrical panels.

Cyrillic? I don’t recall any of the Orion ships being bilingual…

She set her PDA to audibly alert for electrical interference and located a hidden breaker box halfway between the bridge and their bilge access. Half of the fuses were shot, which Rose thankfully had enough spares to reconnect the ship twice over.

“That was it, I’m getting in now! Thank you!”

“A genuine thanks from Dalton, what am I to do? Ooh, how about a fun fact! You know those from the desk of the CEO emails that announce this stuff?” Rose shouted from the utility closet, “I know for a fact they don’t pass by his door, let alone touch the desk itself!”

Dalton pinched the bridge of his nose, “You really shouldn’t say stuff like that. You don’t know what they’re recording through our PDAs.”

“Ha! You and I barely have security clearance to use the toilets on the clock, we’re not worth the storage!”

Rose’s laughter echoed throughout the promenade, followed by heavy footfalls as she met up with Dalton back at the helm.

“Plus, these research vessels have a copper mesh built into the subframe. It’s basically a faraday cage. If you’re that concerned, just check your event log right now.”

Dalton pulled up his system logs and confirmed only local connections were available. He was thankful this didn’t impact their responsibilities; all Treviso ships require a hardline connection to interface directly with their black boxes anyway. He traced the electrical signal through the helm’s main console and located the universal serial port for the mainframe.

“Alright… PDA connected… Terminal handshake accepted… cd-slash-users-slash-mathers… what?”

The terminal rejected his command, stating the file path didn’t exist.

“Okay… cd-slash-users and enter…? Good… d-i-r enter… Hey Rose, can you turn on a bridge monitor and tune it to signal 3?”

Rose reached up to a display anchored above the helm’s center console and flipped the power switch. The monitor hummed to life with telltale static. An image of the PDA’s display slowly emerged as the phosphors within the glass charged up. After passing an AV sync check on the requested signal, Dalton streamed an audio file pulled from the black box that was labeled ‘PLAY_FIRST’.

This is Admiral Steven Antonov of the United Interstellar Systems, recording from the bridge of the UIS Illyria. If you accessed this recording from the TEV Dalmatia, you need to confirm external communications and evacuate immediately. The ship you are looking for no longer exists, and you are not the first to make this discovery.

Rose and Dalton were silent in the presence of Admiral Antonov’s declaration. Despite the message containing no video their vision was fixed on the monitor as the recording continued.

You can confirm you are on the bridge of the Illyria by checking the wiring harness of the black box terminal for a blue and white twisted pair, but I implore you leave and never return. Whatever Treviso asked of you, it is not worth your life. If escape proves not possible, play the audio file labeled ‘Next’. Dasvidanya.”