Signals
The maintenance corridors beneath Deck Eleven smelled like overheated circuitry, coolant leaks, and bad decisions.
Hale moved ahead with a scanner in one hand while Rainer casually walked backward down the corridor watching the rear approach like somebody taking a relaxed evening stroll instead of hunting possible espionage traffic beneath one of the most important ships in Starfleet.
Kane walked between them in complete silence.
Three maintenance crewmen immediately pressed themselves flatter against the bulkhead the moment they recognized him.
“Sergeant Major.”
Kane nodded once while continuing forward.
The youngest of the maintenance crew waited until the team passed before quietly whispering:
“Why is Security down here?”
The older technician answered immediately.
“Because somebody fucked up.”
Hale smirked without turning around.
“See?”
“I love maintenance guys.”
“Always optimistic.”
The corridor narrowed ahead into a junction filled with relay access panels and exposed diagnostic trunks.
Rainer stopped near one wall.
“There.”
Kane followed her gaze.
One of the maintenance access plates had fresh tool scoring around the edges.
Not enough for most personnel to notice.
Enough for Security Division.
Hale crouched beside it.
“Recently opened.”
Kane nodded.
“How recently?”
Hale checked the panel carefully.
“Few hours maybe.”
Rainer folded her arms.
“Convenient timing.”
A nervous maintenance ensign hurried around the corner carrying diagnostic equipment.
The moment he spotted Kane he nearly stopped breathing.
“Sergeant Major.”
Young.
Probably fresh from the Academy.
Kane looked at the access panel.
Then at the ensign.
“Who opened it.”
The ensign hesitated.
Tiny mistake.
Hale noticed immediately.
So did Rainer.
Kane remained perfectly calm.
Which somehow made it worse.
“Ensign.”
The young officer swallowed.
“Routine relay inspection, Sergeant Major.”
“No it wasn’t.”
Silence.
The ensign’s eyes flicked briefly toward the panel.
Then away.
Hale slowly stood.
Rainer tilted her head slightly.
Like sharks noticing blood.
Kane stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not loud.
Just close enough the ensign suddenly became very aware of how large the Sergeant Major actually was.
“Lieutenant Commander Harris already confirmed no maintenance work was scheduled in this section.”
“So.”
“Try again.”
The ensign visibly debated several terrible life decisions simultaneously.
Then finally:
“I was told to run a diagnostics sweep.”
“By who.”
Another hesitation.
Rainer sighed softly.
“Oh this poor bastard.”
The ensign looked even more terrified.
Kane kept his voice level.
“Son.”
“Right now you are either involved in something extremely serious…”
“Or somebody used you because they thought you were inexperienced enough not to ask questions.”
The ensign blinked.
That possibility had clearly not occurred to him.
Kane saw it immediately.
So did Hale.
Rainer actually looked mildly disappointed.
“Damn.”
“He really is innocent.”
The ensign looked toward her helplessly.
“I didn’t know—”
“Of course you didn’t,” Hale interrupted.
“If you knew you wouldn’t still be standing here.”
Kane held out his hand.
“Authorization code.”
The ensign handed over his PADD almost instantly.
Kane scanned the work order.
Then handed it directly to Hale.
Hale’s expression darkened immediately.
“Fake routing.”
Rainer leaned over his shoulder.
“Not fake enough for Operations to flag automatically.”
“Whoever wrote this knew system formatting.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed slightly.
That bothered him.
A lot.
Not random sabotage.
Not amateur behavior.
Professional.
The lights flickered briefly overhead.
Everybody instinctively looked up.
Then toward the relay panel.
A faint humming sound vibrated through the corridor.
Hale immediately moved toward the access hatch.
“That’s not normal.”
Kane:
“Open it.”
The hatch came loose with a metallic snap.
Behind it sat a compact relay bypass unit crudely wired into the maintenance trunk.
Not Federation.
Not standard anything.
Just functional.
And currently overheating.
Rainer’s expression shifted instantly.
“That’s going to blow.”
The ensign panicked.
“What does that mean?”
Hale looked up flatly.
“Means somebody built a bomb badly.”
Everybody moved at once.
Kane grabbed the ensign by the shoulder and physically threw him backward down the corridor.
Rainer pulled two maintenance techs behind a bulkhead corner.
Hale dropped beside the relay unit trying to disconnect the bypass manually.
The humming sound intensified.
Sparks burst violently from the relay housing.
Kane immediately stepped beside Hale.
“Time.”
“Not enough.”
“Can you stop it.”
Hale looked at the wiring.
Then at Kane.
Then back at the device.
“Maybe.”
Rainer yelled from behind cover:
“That’s a very confidence-inspiring answer.”
Hale ignored her.
Sweat rolled down his forehead while he worked frantically inside the panel.
The relay suddenly shrieked.
High-pitched.
Unstable.
Kane grabbed Hale by the back of his uniform.
“Move.”
Hale twisted one final connector free.
The humming stopped instantly.
Silence.
Everybody froze.
Nothing happened.
Then:
A tiny puff of smoke drifted upward from the relay housing.
Hale slowly sat back against the wall breathing hard.
“Huh.”
Rainer peeked around the corner.
“Technical mastery.”
“Very inspiring.”
The ensign still looked pale.
“Was that actually a bomb?”
Hale looked toward him.
“No.”
“It was an aggressively educational experience.”
Even Kane almost smiled at that one.
Almost.
Then his expression hardened again as he stared at the bypass relay sitting inside the panel.
Professional construction.
Encrypted rerouting.
Fake maintenance authorization.
Somebody aboard the ship had absolutely been doing something.
And now they knew Security Division was looking for them.