Hark, A Lark...flying through the park

Posted on Sun 18th Jan, 2026 @ 4:24pm by Commander Anslo Tol
Edited on on Thu 29th Jan, 2026 @ 7:21pm

3,707 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: [MAIN] From The Ashes
Location: Tellious Dat (Tellarite Colony world)
Timeline: 2154 (Post-ENT)

Captain’s log, Primary Entry, stardate 2156.4.17. (Approximately two years after the events of "Terra Prime" of ENT.)

-Start-

"Captain Log:"

The Columbia has been assigned to mitigate a situation in Tellious Dat, a Tellarite colony world whose agricultural regions have suffered a catastrophic blight, affecting their crops and making it likely they will suffer collapse. Andorian colonists have also begun efforts to make the planet viable as they can endure the harsh climate well, but they face the same fate with these diseased crops. At this time of our arrival, entire continental breadbaskets have failed, food reserves are projected to last less than three months. Winter is approaching in two.

{Conference Room- Columbia, orbiting Tellious Dat}

In the utilitarian confines of the Columbia conference room, a stern Vulcan was addressing her fellow senior staff in a briefing. Commander T’vel spoke with urgency, despite the usual cadence of her people being calm. Time was imperative when lives were on the line.

“The Andorians have requested immediate evacuation from their colonial governors. The Tellarite colonial council however has refused to sanction the Andorians taking their ships with them. There are simply too many people to move, and these vessels provide key infrastructure and the bulk of their orbital operations. The Tellarite colonists are asking for supplies, and for time, hoping the crops can be cured and harvested.”

Captain Elena Rourke considered the tableau in front of her. Data pouring in from their sector leaders showed how the situation was deteriorating rapidly. Civil unrest was already becoming too much for meager colonial security patrols. Thankfully the Andorian populations had settled at the polar regions far from the Tellarite settlements.

She added to her commanders report, “As of yesterday, Tellarite colonial security forces have seized all Andorian transport vessels in orbit. Their stated intent is to prevent a mass departure that would collapse planetary infrastructure.”

T’vel nodded and replied, “The Andorians consider the seizures an act of aggression, hostility has broken out in the ports, barely contained by security forces."

Their Science officer Rasj al-Jon mentioned the other problem, "With almost a million people, even with all ships packed to the gills running as fast as they can, Tellar is a month away at top speeds at best for us, six weeks probably given the state of their ships. Andor isn't any better, seven weeks out I'd say."

Elena shook her head in dismay, “Starfleet has limited options. This world is not under Federation jurisdiction, but both peoples are allies. Evacuation at scale is not possible in time, even if we scrambled every ship like you said to ghte gills, we could get what a third of them off world maybe before regional collapse and starvation claims its numbers.”

Another officer, Commander Kincaid spoke up over intercom, “Captain to the bridge, we have developments.”

Elena dismissed the staff and they moved onto the bridge swiftly.

{Bridge of NX-02 Columbia- 2156}

From the bridge of the Columbia, the viewscreen was filled with cloud cover. Thick, amber-streaked bands rolling over a scarred continent below. What should have been green was brown, the land pocked with geometric failures where automated farms had gone dark. The softness of dirt and hills replaced with the ragged streaks of minerals and dust. An overlay showed the analysis of global patterns, nearly all farms were affected, except the Andorian crops, contained in Hydroponic isolation.

Bristol Chang at Comms related the news as soon as the captain was in earshot, "The Andorian sector manager in Tredha just reported, their hydroponics are affected as well."

Months turned to weeks on the food supply, starvation was a certainty. A pall settled over everyone as the evident reality dawned on the crew that they were given front row seats to a dying world. Rasj let his temper flare in the way that was customary to Tellarites, and bellowed an expletive. Nobody commented to the contrary.

Captain Elena Rourke stood at the center of the bridge, hands folded behind her back, "How does this spread, I need to understand how we can stop it."

The silence on the bridge was deafening. Elena prayed to hear even one good suggestion. The hydroponics were sealed and still got infected, it was ludicrous, the bio filters could sort out even prion and spore based illness. Was it sabotage, was it paranoia to think it might be? Her thoughts raced, planning for every possible scenario and achieving nothing as a result.

“Magnify sector twelve,” T'vel said, spotting something... It stood out like a green pixel. A single dome, functional, green, scans revealing complex ecosystems within.

Eyes snapped to the screen, eager to listen as the image sharpened, showing long agricultural tracts now dormant, irrigation grids frozen mid-pattern. There was no fire, no explosion, just absence. Systems that had simply stopped being worked because the quarantine was still keeping some areas safe so nobody dared go near red zones. T'vel had a hunch, something her Human counterparts had taught of. Two farms, each using domes for their genetic purity, had reported blighted crops within a day of one another, but this one was isolated and functional right next to a twin who had taken on the streaky brown of death.

Both domes were intact, but the brown rot of the greenhouse revealed the obvious diseased one, "Captain I have a theory forming. It bears further scrutiny however...

"I got your scrutiny right here maam." LC Kincaid stood ready to deliver his report. At her station to the right of the Captains chair, Commander T’Vel regarded the display with Vulcan stillness, passing it to her right again to the Captain. Elena took Kincaid’s report, reading it, “We have confirmed the blight exhibits non-random propagation,” she observed.

Ensign Rasj confirmed as well, “It spreads along infrastructure lines rather than ecological boundaries. My best guess, they used the same soil substrates and nutrient packs. Andorian methods have a higher filtration medium so it took longer for them to become affected.”

Elena was circling a notion but collecting evidence first, "So how is that one maintaining itself, is it simply strict quarantine?"

The timelines showed the first reports didn't coincide with the arrival of the Andorian colonists. The Tellarites claimed as much but their zones didn't overlap, the abundant icy polar regions were perfectly suitable to the Andorians, where the Tellarites took the bogs along coastlines along the equator. The marriage of convenience had worked in other worlds, and the immediate trading and resupply options of two governments made them all successful. So what was the problem here?!

Rourke turned slightly. “You’re telling me what we are seeing is that it does not spread amongst the farms by proximity, but by an unknown medium sabotaging specific supplies for maximum infrastructure dispersal.”

“Yes, Captain. The probability of natural origin is diminishing to none.” T'vel was still anxious.

Lieutenant Commander Kincaid leaned forward from the engineering console, jaw tight. “Those hydroponic farms aren’t just food production. They regulate atmospheric balance. Pull them offline and you destabilize weather control, water cycling, everything. The Andorians might be able to ride it out in the poles, but the Tellarites barely have foundations under their woodhuts; not to mention the atmosphere will likely backslide.”

Rourke exhaled quietly. “Which means even if we bring in supplies—”

“—the planet keeps degrading,” Kincaid finished. “Food is just a sandbag to the rising waters.”

A chime sounded.

“Delegations ready, Captain,” the communications officer Chang relayed, she was a young Human of 19 years of age, brown skin, large hair style, with streak of brown among the black. “Tellarite colonial council and Andorian representatives are both requesting immediate access.”

Rourke hesitated only a moment. “Put them through Bristol. Joint channel.”

The viewscreen split, one of the new 3D modelers which allowed profiles and perspectives to form. It worked well for reading emotions and nuance in peoples faces. One half of the screen opened to reveal three Tellarites, heavy-jowled, bristling, framed by the angular austerity of a colonial chamber. Their lead councilor leaned forward, tusks bared fully not in threat, but emphasis.

On the other side stood two Andorians, antennae held rigid, uniforms immaculate. Though they assumed a neutral posture, their spokesperson’s voice was sharp, controlled, barely containing fury.

“Councilor Orya, you are holding our ships,” the Andorian said without preamble. “...those vessels are not colonial property.” The primary feed created a parittion which showed thirty ship names, presumably the ones Andorians claim were taken by force.

“They are necessary for the operation of emergency services!” the Tellarite councilor next to Orya snapped back, "My people will die the moment you leave orbit."

"You fired at my ships crew, we relied on you to provide operational security and you've used it to seize what is not yours to possess! Where was you regard for my people lives!?"

Elena tried to head it off, "Counselors please...-

Orya pressed, confident and bellicose, cutting her off to respond to Kamin, “Your transports carry power relays, water recyclers, orbital processors, we issued an order to impound, and your crew were not killed, not a single one... Kamin, If you leave, you take our infrastructure with you.”

“We are not obligated to die to preserve yours." Orya and his co counsel shared a look of disgust, and Kamin made it worse, "Tellarite practices have failed to sustain themselves or see to the needs of their people. Now your disease threatens our meager subsistence-”

Rourke had raised a hand, but now used it to slap her chairs arm rest... It got their attention as she yelled, “Enough! You will address each other with respect, as allies. Remember I swing the big stick here, so you will listen to me. Now, we are here to assist both of you, tell me a plan, where do we start?”

Both sides paused reluctantly, waiting for Starfleet to make their play. If there was one thing Humans were known for, especially Captains of Starfleet, it was that they had long speeches. Both sets of councilors realized at the same time, this was as much of a response as Starfleet could muster. And they also realized Starfleet had nothing to offer.

The Andorian spoke to her directly, “Captain Rourke, we requested evacuation weeks ago. Our people are not willing to wait for a cure that may never come. We have forty thousand people down there who rest at night knowing we have pledged to take care of them. If we cannot feed them, we must leave-”

“And abandon the planet after all of our sacrifice?” Another of the Tellarite party interjected. “Condemn it? If your ships leave, vital systems fail within days. A million Tellarite die, have you no decency? Did we not sign a compact to share this world, and protect one another under the terms of our peoples alliance?”

Kincaid muttered under his breath, “Nobody's said a lie yet.”

Rourke heard him, but the ones on screen didn’t. She straightened. “Councilor Orya, seizing civilian vessels is not a sustainable solution.”

“Neither is starvation,or evacuation.” The Tellarite replied, "which is where we will be if those ships leave. Starfleet, you have one ship. You cannot move us. You cannot feed us what we need. What exactly is Starfleet offering?”

Silence stretched across the bridge and Elena felt the pressure to respond. What she said here would set the tone for their inter. Rourke considered her answer, when T’vel gestured subtly. Rourke imperceptibly relaxed to give T’vel the floor, grateful for the Vulcan with a chill streak.

Commander T’Vel spoke calmly. “Starfleet is offering stabilization. Supplies. Time.”

Councilor Kamin’s antennae twitched. “Time for what?”

“For analysis,” T’Vel replied. “And for restraint.”

Orya laughed, finding the statement ridiculous. The Andorian’s gaze hardened. “Restraint is a luxury of those who expect to survive, You cannot offer much but you can offer to help our ships be restored to their rightful owners.”

Rourke met her eyes. “If your ships depart en masse, this colony collapses immediately. If they stay, your people are at risk, and could become trapped in a worsening situation. Neither outcome is acceptable to us, so let’s make a solution for a third path.”

“We tried, so now it's your decision, so choose what you think is prudent,” Kamin said. “Because the Tellious council already has.”

Rourke glanced at the Tellarites, Orya said nothing. His silence was confirmation enough that the counsel had decided the ships wouldnt leave. Siding with them would put the Andorians in a position where they couldn't leave by force of arms. Andor wasn't that far away, this problem would develop teeth over the weeks.

After a moment, Rourke nodded once, relying on teh strength of the Aliiance to carry through. “Starfleet does not endorse the seizure of civilian ships. We will not help enforce it.”

Kamin exhaled sharply, surprise and relief edged with suspicion. His certainty Starfleet would choose the mealy mouth pacifist options were so strong he thought he misheard the captain.

“But,” Rourke continued, “we also will not facilitate a mass evacuation that destabilizes this world. Not without a viable alternative.”

The channel erupted at once voices overlapping, accusations flying and Rourke told Bristol to cut the transmission and the viewscreen returned to the dying world below. No one spoke for some time, finally, Kincaid broke the silence. “Captain… if this blight was engineered-”

“-I know,” Rourke said quietly. “But knowing doesn’t fix it.”

She turned to T’Vel. “Run every analysis you have. I want causality, not guesses.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Rourke looked back at the planet, somewhere down there, people were counting days. She tallied her resources, again coming up short. There was a moment as she looked over the graphs that it occurred to her this situation should have already collapsed. Doubting herself and worried over a sudden pessimism in her thoughts lead her to other avenues but this was the second time she felt the math was not right. T'vel was also updating the same report, continuing to refine data as though she too silently suspected.

Bristol spoke to T'vel and Rourke, “Log our first aid deployment,” she said. “Medical supplies, food rations, atmospheric stabilizers. I've got Shuttlepods One through Three on ferry, and Four with two Bees in the Lunar wastelands scraping minerals."

Kincaid couldnt think of anything else. Food wasn't something they could just pile up at a whim. Protein syntheisis allowed for a number for tasty tofus but it was all they could rush produce. "I can't think of another step sirs, we will continue to do what we can."

T'vel added, "I have sorted a list of the most in need, we will begin by stabilizing them or relocating failed settlements to the main cities. We have spare supplies to keep the Andorians going for a week at the rate of failures, Tellarites had a more primitive but robust power grid which will endure."

Rourke shook her head, "Balance our efforts, it must be be offered openly for both sides, no favorites, and yes by their needs."

Bristol reminded them, "There's just over a million Tellarites in eight cities, and ninety thousand Andorians in two cities. Our efforts will absolutely seem to focus on Tellarite settlements by the number of them needing help."

Kincaid hesitated. “And when it’s not enough?”

Rourke didn’t answer right away, when she did, her voice was steady but not certain. With manufactured resolve she responded, “Then we keep looking for another option.”

Bristol Chang offered, "Captain we can request the governments send another aid package, there would be time."

Kincaid nodded, "No way it will let them last the winter unless they send a huge convoy...but it could keep people from dying in a month once the food is gone."

Rourke had an idea, "A few of those Andorian cargo vessels are just serving as power plants.... if they went to meet the incoming convoys, they are twice as fast empty, its possible to get a partial resupply in four weeks with the remainder at six weeks."

Ever the pragmatist, T'vel had to point out, "Without crops growing, it would take five convoys of the original investment size of the colony to maintain it until the net growing season. Unsustainable."

Another alarm sounded, and Bristol read out the alert, "Atmospheric processors at redline in Rokj Alpha, 348 Tellarites in need of immediate evacuation!"

Captain Rourke felt like spitting, the dying was about to begin. The odd reaction of her brain asking why it took this long logging for disaster to onset...
another small mystery to solve.

"Set course, maximum thrust, redeploy all shuttlepods to evacuation!"

{Columbia Science Station-Rear of Bridge}

She had to split the group up, no one township was able to take on extra mouths but they all had to take at least ten.After several hours of ferrying people out of Rokj Alpha, she got the sweet news, "All citizens accounted for, relocation complete, no casualties." the results of yet another analysis chimed, its results were finished. The Columbia’s science lab hummed softly, displays layered with atmospheric data, crop models, and sensor returns scrolling faster than any one person could track.

Commander T’Vel stood at the center of it all, hands clasped behind her back, "We've exhausted our food stores with this one evacuation, proteins are being sequenced now, we can manage another hundred units in a days time, substrates and nutrient packs are also going to take a day to regenerate."

Elena understood the apprehension, "Yes, we can grow more, more's on the way. I wanted those folks to arrive with arms full of supplies, to not be a burden or treated like they're at fault for any shortages coming."

Ever focused on the matter at hands T'vel said nothing but a simple single, curt nod. The Vulcan let a silence form, and then broke it effectively changing the subject. “The blight is not pathogenic in the conventional sense,” she said. “It behaves more like a targeted systemic failure.”

Captain Rourke leaned against the edge of the central console. “Targeted how?”

“By dependency,” T’Vel replied. “The organisms involved…if they can be called that, activate only in the presence of specific nutrient catalysts. Catalysts introduced exclusively through automated agricultural systems, and supplies delivered to farms.”

Kincaid frowned. “So if you’re running modern farms, you get hit when you get a tainted bag of nutrients or soil but if you are self sustaining.”

“You are spared,” T’Vel finished. “At least initially.”

Rourke’s jaw tightened. “That’s not random.”

“No.” The single word carried with it an agreement to the ulterior motives driving forces at play.

“The Tellarites run micro-greeneries don’t they, Andorians are using hydroculture? What do they both use?”

A soft chime interrupted them.

“Captain,” Lt Rita Harkin said from the bridge Tactical suite, “...we’re picking up intermittent sensor returns in high orbit. Too diffuse to lock, but consistent enough to form a pattern.”

Rourke straightened. “Consistent with what?”

Rita hesitated, the answer wasn't so clear. “With a ship entering and leaving orbit with a polarized hull.”

The image on the screen resolved into a scatter of ghostly points, too faint to be debris, too structured to be noise.

“No transponder,” the officer continued. “No warp signature. Whatever it is, it’s masking its emissions.”

Kincaid folded his arms. “Or it’s badly damaged at low power.”

T’Vel studied the data. “The masking is intentional. However, it is… inelegant.”

Rourke glanced at her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning whoever designed it values concealment, but lacks the means to achieve it fully.”

The room went quiet with the realizations. They both felt their suspicions confirmed with elation.

“Could it be responsible for the blight?” Rourke asked. An idea of hidden agents spreading blight was possible, but the details would have to explain more because it made no sense yet as to why.

“It is possible,” T’Vel said. “The timing aligns. Additionally, we have detected micro-corrections in atmospheric chemistry that did not originate from our aid drops.”

Kincaid’s eyes widened. “Someone else is adjusting the planet?”

“Yes.”

Rourke felt the weight of it settle in her chest. “Without authorization.”

“Without visibility,” T’Vel corrected.

“Are they helping, or keeping a plan on a timeline you think?”

The Rita’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Captain, the Andorian delegation is reporting unauthorized medical supplies appearing in their shelters. They believe the Tellarites are attempting to curry favor bribing the townships for votes.”

“And the Tellarites?” Rourke asked.

“They’re demanding answers, accusing of deception…messages piling up in the buffer as well, complaints mostly.”

Rourke closed her eyes briefly. Someone was helping and also making everything worse.

“Put us on yellow alert,” she said. “Quietly. I don’t want panic.” She turned to T’Vel. “If this ship is acting covertly—”

“—then it is interfering with a volatile political system,” T’Vel said. “The logical outcome is escalation.”

Kincaid shook his head. “Or they’re trying to help and don’t know how.”

Rourke looked at him sharply. “Intent doesn’t matter if the result is bloodshed.”

She tapped her communicator. “Bridge to Tactical. Tighten the net, launch triangulation beacons. Send a ground team to the locations which were visited by our phantom crew, track it with prejudice. I want that ship identified.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The lights dimmed slightly as the Columbia adjusted posture, unseen arrays sweeping wider arcs. Probes launched to take up positions allowing Columbia to scan extensively past their initial range and Rita took two MACOs and an ensign with her to track the unknown ship. Rourke felt the unease deepen, her thoughts and instincts had yelled there was a third hand on the board. She could bank on that much now, but the damnable fact of it was that she didn’t know what it wanted. If they wanted to destroy this colony and offset Andorian Tellarite relations, then they were doing a great job. In two months, starvation would become a reality and people would start to die.

On the viewscreen, the doomed planet continued its slow rotation serene and uncaring.

-TBC-

 

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