A Probing Question (working title; not happy with it)

The United Terran Space Command’s finest Scientific and Exploration Vessel (SEV), the UTNS Charles Babbage, has been pushing Mankind’s boundaries for almost three decades. This current crew, this current command has seen those boundaries continue to expand, although the majority of discovery has come in the way of cartography more than anything else during this particular deployment. The UNTS Charles Babbage, aptly named for whom history calls “The Father of the Computer,” has been responsible for expanding Man’s mind more than other SEVs in Space Command. It has not been due to equipment, science staff, command staff, or the ship herself (yes, the ship is ‘she’, even if named for a he). No, she has always been in the right place at the right time. Blessed crew. Lucky bastards. Whichever way viewed, the ship known by most of the crew as “The C’abbage” has been there and done that, scientifically speaking.

Captain Caragh Doherty, the Commanding Officer, is five feet and five inches tall, almost five feet seven in her boots. At the Naval Academy, she captained the rugby team, rowed, studied Aikido, was salutatorian of her graduating class, and was an overall over-achiever. That was nineteen years ago; she never took her foot off the accelerator, or her enemy’s throat. When she walked onto the bridge, she was anything but small. “XO, what do we have?” 

“Unknown anomaly at present, Cap’n.” Commander Buller was not one to use slang or abbreviations, but ‘Cap’n’ was a long-standing naval tradition that he, by hell, was not going to disregard. “It literally just appeared, popped into existence right in front of us. The damnedest thing, too. It is directly in our vector; our nose is perpendicular to the very center of the hole. Sensors read it as one hundred kilometers in diameter, perfectly round, and the stars on the other side, ‘inside’ if you want to call it that, are not where or what they should be. It’s like a window to another spot in space.”

Captain Doherty froze halfway between standing and sitting, cheeks a few inches off her command chair. “Excuse me?” she said with an eyebrow raised, then finished placing herself into the chair.

“Ma’am, I…it…well…I don’t know. Lieutenant Braun thinks it is a wormhole; a black hole would not allow light to escape, and we can see into it. She’s the Science Officer.”

“Okay, and it ‘just appeared’ and did so directly in front of us?”

“We came to a full stop. We are passively and actively scanning. All we know, all that is certain, is that it is there.”

“We retrieved all probes from Osiris VII and repaired the probe that had ice damage, correct, XO?”

“Lieutenant Braun?” the XO asked, redirecting the question to the Science Officer.

“Ma’am. All probes are home, and frozen probe de-iced. We have a full complement of ten probes on board and ready to let go.”

The CO thought for a moment, then ordered, “Send one probe through. All scanners active and transmitting back to us.”

“Aye, aye” sounded from the Science Station.

The soft thump-swoosh of a probe being launched was slightly audible from the bridge, then silence. The silence would last until the probe started to communicate. There was no real protocol of silence; that’s just how it always ended up being. There really was not ever much to say until data starting streaming back to the ship. It is just one of those un-written rules.

“Incoming data stream” said Commander Buller calmly. He started reading and analyzing the data along with the Science Officer and the CO. 

“Ma’am. We have probes on the other side. There are eighteen probes plus ours. They are transmitting on known frequencies. The IFF data is coming through. They are all ours; well, not ours, “C’abbage” ours, but they are all UTSC. The probes are from our fleet!”

“How is that possible, Lieutenant Braun? Have we come across this thing before? I have no knowledge of this anomaly.”

“Ma’am. I have no knowledge of this either. I have nothing in the science database about anybody coming across anything like this.”

“What ships are the probes from, XO?”

“There are three from the UTNS Enterprise; three from the Constitution; three from the Admiral H.B.C. Dresden; two, no three from the Ragnarök Ridge; three from the Mariner’s Valley; and three from the Dawn Treader. This makes no sense at all! The Enterprise is mothballed and there isn’t another Enterprise on the books yet. The ‘Connie’ is due for decommission and is based near Earth until she joins the Enterprise. I have no flipping idea who the hell H.B.C Dresden is or in whose navy he/she is an admiral! I read reports that the first of the new generation Stellar Landing Craft will be christened the Ragnarök Ridge, but that program won’t hit the shipyards for at least another two years! I know where Mariner’s Valley is on Mars, but I don’t know about naming a ship after it! And, I haven’t got the faintest idea about the Dawn Treader! In all, eighteen probes plus ours.”

“Lieutenant Braun.”

“Ma’am.”

“Do a quick search on one ‘H.B.C. Dresden,’ will you?”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

“XO, a word?” At that, Commander Buller walked over to the Captain’s chair for a lower volumed conversation. 

“What do we have here?”

“Well, we…”

“That was rhetorical, Commander. What is this thing? What are these other ships? Why do we not know about these ships, or this anomaly? Why three probes each? What the hell are we looking at here? Ideas? Anything?”

The XO did not get a chance to answer those questions. “Ma’am. Our probe has stopped” Lieutenant Braun announced.

“Stopped what, Braun?”

“Stopped…everything, Cap’n. It’s on. It just isn’t moving or communicating anymore.”

“What do we know so far? Better question, do we know enough yet? Do we have enough data at present, Lieutenant?”

“Not quite. I mean, no, Ma’am. We really don’t know much at present.”

“XO, ready a second probe. This time I want everything recorded. And streamed live to Space Command HQ.”

The Executive Officer sounded commands to the Science Officer, Fire Control, and Comms. A few moments later a familiar thump-swoosh was heard. The second probe entered the anomaly and came to a stop in the space within, not more than a kilometer from the first probe. The moment the probe came to a full stop, the probes changed. There was no movement, no transformation; they were just suddenly all different. The probes had what looked like armored plating on several of their respective sides, more and or altered arrays, as well as what looked like turrets. As equally as suddenly, the bridge was flooded with communication data streams. All nineteen probes, the original eighteen plus the probe from the “C’abbage” screamed one word over and over.

“Please!”

“Battle Stations, XO!”

“Aye! Sound Battle Stations!” Commander Buller called, the blue lights came on and the klaxon starting sounding before he finished the sentence.

“Braun! I need my Science Officer doing something, anything. 'Please.' Please what? What are we looking at here? Why didn’t we get a response from the first probe? Why did we get one from the second? What happened? And again, ‘Please’ what?”

“Ma’am. What do we know? We know there are probes from ships that are questionable at best. I researched the name of that admiral. There is a Harry B.C. Dresden at the Naval Academy. He is a Midshipman starting last Fall. His mother was a Navy Commander, and his father was a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marines. That’s all we know. There has always been an Enterprise, albeit intermittently. The same for the Constitution. Mariner’s Valley is on Mars, but we don’t have a ship named for it, or any reason to do so. There is absolutely no known ‘Ragnarök Ridge’ in existence, and I haven’t the faintest idea about the Dawn Treader! All these questions, but they all sent UTSC probes from supposedly UTN ships.

Why have we not heard of these? Why have we not heard of this anomaly? There isn’t word one about anything like this in the science database. Why?”

The only sound for a few moments was the wail of the klaxon. “Turn off the damn klaxon, XO!”

“Aye!”

Now nothing but pure silence remained for a few moments more. “Was that rhetorical, Lieutenant, or am I supposed to answer?”

“Either way, really. Anyway, here is what I think. I think the Enterprise is a later version, as well as the Constitution. I think the Admiral H.B.C. Dresden is named after this kid of a Midshipman for future deeds. As for the others, they are from the future, too. There is no data about the anomaly in the system because it has not happened yet. There was no reaction to our first probe because it was happening for the first time, in a sense. The second probe caused a change because we live streamed the data. That data is now history.” The bridge was silently flashing blue for several moments. “I don’t see any other explanation.”

There was more silently flashing blue light on the bridge for what seemed an eternity. The crew were all lost in their respective thoughts. Captain Doherty finally broke the silence.

“Recommendations?” she said to all. “Science Officer, then XO. Go.”

“Ma’am. I recommend sending a third probe. The second probe has stopped communicating, like the first. We still need data. And…well…I am interested to know why three were sent by the other ships.”

“Captain, I do not agree with sending a third probe. I say we fall back and report.”

Captain Doherty sat still for a moment, contemplating everything before speaking again. “We are still recording and live streaming to HQ, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” came the reply from Comms.

“Your objection is duly noted, XO. We need more information; it’s that simple. Sorry.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” The personal and professional respect was still there; it would always be there.

“Lieutenant Braun, prepare the third probe. Once ready, launch at will.”

The moment the command was given, the moment Captain Doherty finished the words and gave the order for the third probe to be launched there was another change of the probes and another message that came into the bridge, from all twenty probes this time. 

“Please, do not do it.”