Investigating The Tiburon - Part I

Posted on 07 Aug 2026 @ 12:49am by Commander Madelina Barnes & Lieutenant JG Shay Mitchell & Commander Camila Di Pasquale

4,752 words; about a 24 minute read

Mission: Acceleration
Location: Various

Maddy stood alone in transporter room two with her her hands clasped behind her back, posture crisp, but her mind refused to stay as disciplined. The Tiburon should have had eighty-nine crew members aboard. Eighty-nine trained officers and specialists. Eighty-nine people who should have been moving through corridors, manning stations, living their lives.

Instead, the sensors had picked up only ten life signs.

Ten.

The number sat wrong in her gut—too small, too quiet, too ominous. Something had happened on that ship, something big enough to silence almost an entire crew complement, and the silence of the transporter room only made that truth feel heavier.

She exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the empty pads as she waited for the away team to join her. Answers were coming—she could feel that much—but she doubted she’d like what they found. Still, whatever waited aboard that ship would stop being a distant sensor reading and become something real.

Camila entered the transporter room with Ensign Larado, Becks, and Simmons. All three men were kitted out in their tactical belts and stood a step behind the Security Chief. She approached Maddy with a tactical belt in one hand and offered it to her. "I believe you wanted one of these?" She asked with a smile.

It had a Type II phaser, a extra power cell, restraints, a manual door opener, a small medkit, a breathing mask and a stun grenade in it.

Maddy accepted the belt from Camila with a small, grateful nod. “Thank you, Commander,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her stomach. She took the tactical belt in both hands, feeling the weight of the gear as she fastened it around her waist—phaser, restraints, medkit, all of it settling into place like a quiet promise that things were unexpected.

Behind Camila and her three officers, Shay slipped in, gear slung over one shoulder, cheeks a little flushed from the hurry. She fell naturally into step behind the security detail, though her eyes flicked briefly to Camila with something like pride. A little more than a year of on and off search and rescue training had given her confidence, even if the certification still sat somewhere in her future. For now, she was here—eager, prepared, and determined to prove she belonged.

Maddy offered her a brief nod before turning her attention back to the transporter pads. The room was filling, the away mission was seconds from beginning, and whatever awaited them aboard the Tiburon would no longer be a mystery.

Frex hopped up onto the transporter pad with the standard engineering away team kit. "Ready whenever you guys are," Frex offered up with a small smile.

The Executive Officer stepped up onto the transporter pad, the faint vibration beneath her boots grounding her more than she expected. She looked over the gathering team—Frex already in place, Camila’s officers steady and alert, Shay checking her gear with the intensity of someone who wanted to get everything right.

“Alright,” Maddy said, projecting calm authority as she swept her gaze across them. “You all know the drill for away missions. Safety first, stay aware, and no one wanders off alone. Unless absolutely necessary.” Her eyes shifted briefly to Camila. “And since this is a search and rescue operation, we follow the Commander di Pasquale's lead. She has the training for this kind of situation.”

A quiet thought nudged the back of her mind—I really need to talk to the Commander about getting proper training myself. Something to handle later, assuming this mission didn’t turn into something far worse.

Shay stepped onto the pad beside her, fingers running over her gear for what had to be the fifth—or fifteenth—time. She finally stilled, looking around at the others with a mixture of nerves at what might be waiting for them on the Tiburon and determination. “Do we have any idea what we might encounter when we get over there?” she asked.

"No," Camila said as she and the SAR personnel stepped onto the transporter. She checked her phaser and holstered it again. "We have had zero communication to indicate what went wrong. Be prepared for anything."

"Ready to transport?" asked the Trill petty officer standing behind the transporter console. Her slender fingers sat poised over the controls.

Frex nodded and waited for the more senior officers to say when they were ready.

"Energize," Camila said and moments later, they dematerialized and reappeared on the transporter pads of the Tiburon.

"Standard formation, two by two," Camila said to the two SAR officers with her. "Shay, go with Larado and Simmons and Becks, go with Lieutenant Frex. I'll scout ahead." She looked at Commander Weisz. "Are you good to scout with me, Commander?" She asked.

Shay was already moving to stand next to Bernie on the Tiburon's transporter pad before they stepped off together. “On it, Commander,” she said, mentally preparing herself for whatever awaited them beyond the doors.

“I’m good to scout with you,” Maddy confirmed, settling into position at Camila’s side. If this was a search and rescue operation, then Camila’s training took precedence over position. And if Maddy wanted to lead these kinds of missions in the future, she really needed to talk to the Commander about getting her own SAR certification started.

She cast a final look at the team—Shay with Larado, and Becks and Simmons with Frex, and hoped all of them were ready.

Frex turned and replied, "Aye, Commander. On it." Then, he followed Becks and Simmons around as they started to scout out. Frex grabbed his tricorder and started to scan.

Camila took her tricorder out as well. "Myself and Commander Barnes will head to the bridge. Lieutenant Mitchell and Ensign Lardo, head to Security. Lieutenant Frex and Ensign Becks and Simmons, head to Engineering."

Shay nodded once, sharp and focused, then slipped her tricorder from its holster. The soft chirp of the device warming up filled the quiet transporter bay. She glanced to Larado, determination settling over her features. “I’ll take point,” she told him, adjusting her grip on the tricorder. “You watch our six.” A small, encouraging smile followed. “Good luck, everyone. See you on the other side.”

With that, she stepped out, leading her partner toward the corridor that awaited them outside the transporter room.

Ensign Larado moved out beside of Shay, his tricorder scanning the way ahead. "It feels hot in here," he noted.

“Yeah… it does,” Shay agreed quietly, eyes narrowing at the readings scrolling across the display. The ambient temperature was several degrees higher than it should’ve been—another red flag in a mission that already seemed full of them. She angled the tricorder toward Larado, pointing down the dim passageway branching left. “Security’s a couple decks down—there's a turbolift just up this way,” she said, already starting forward with careful, deliberate steps.

Larado gave a nod and headed the way she indicated, drawing his phaser as a precaution. He wiped his forehead as a bead of sweat formed, wondering why the environmental controls were so high. "We'll find out soon enough."

"Yeah, lets get down to Engineering and see if we can't get the environmental and other systems stabilized," Frex said as they started to break off into their teams.

Shay felt the first beads of sweat gather at her hairline, a slow, unwelcome warmth creeping down the back of her neck. She forced herself to ignore it — one problem at a time — and kept her stride steady as they approached the turbolift alcove.

She lifted her hand and pressed the call‑sensor, the panel giving a soft chime as the lift began its ascent toward their deck. While they waited, she let her gaze sweep the corridor: the faint shimmer of heat distortion near the ceiling, the way the air itself felt just a little too thick.

Shay exhaled slowly through her nose. “Larado…” she said, keeping her voice low. “Are you feeling anything besides just… hot? Like... a bad feeling?"

"Bad is one way of putting it," Larado said as he scanned around with his tricorder. "I'm picking up combadge signatures, but no biosignatures, Lieutenant," he said as they passed a room.

Shay slowed, the words hitting her harder than the heat pressing against her skin. Combadge signatures without the biosigns that should be attached to them—that wasn’t just odd. That was impossible under normal circumstances, but this was anything but normal.

Her brows knit as she swept her tricorder back toward the room they’d just passed, double‑checking even though she already trusted Larado’s readout. The display remained stubbornly empty of life. “That’s… not right,” she murmured, voice low but edged with concern. “Combadges don’t just wander off on their own. If they’re here, then their owners should be, too.”

She took a slow breath, ignoring the fresh trickle of sweat sliding down her temple.

“Something isn't right here. I know Commander di Pasquale wants us to go to security, but everything in me is saying we should take a look,” the Lieutenant said, turning her head just enough to look at Larado. She stepped back toward the doorway, tricorder raised, posture tightening with purpose. “Let’s take a look. Carefully.”

He gave a nod and pressed the door release and it failed to open. He took a moment to engage the Security release and waited a moment before it hissed open. He looked inside with his phaser leading the way and his tricorder and eyes scanning, then he stopped.

"I know why the combadges are here," Larado said as he stepped aside to reveal a half a dozen unforms from different departments laying in piles on the floor with the combadges still attached.

Shay stepped forward as Larado moved aside, lifting her tricorder slightly as she leaned to look inside the room. The sight hit her all at once — a pile of uniforms, abandoned, combadges still in place, colors from different departments scattered across the deck like shed skins.

Her brows rose, and she let out a slow breath. “…Well, this is unexpected,” she murmured, taking another step in to get a better angle. The heat in the corridor pressed against her back, but she barely noticed it now.

She crouched just enough to study one of the piles, careful not to touch anything. “These have to belong to the ten lifesigns we picked up,” she said, voice low but edged with unease. “But if their uniforms are here…” The Lieutenant straightened, glancing toward the corridor as if expecting something — or someone — to appear. “…are they running around the ship naked somewhere?”

"It..looks that way," Larado said. "I've never seen anything like this. How many are there?" He began to separate the uniforms by department color and tally a count.

Shay dropped to a crouch and began separating the uniforms one by one. "I have four here. One red, two gold and a teal.”

She paused at the last one, fingers brushing the collar. “This one’s a Lieutenant junior grade,” she said, glancing up at Larado. “The rest are enlisted.”

Straightening, she wiped her palms on her thighs, the heat of the corridor making her skin feel tacky.

Lardo set his aside. "Seven here. Two red, three gold, two teal. No rank higher than Lieutenant JG. So we have eleven possibly naked crew members running around the ship.

Shay’s brow furrowed immediately, and she gave a short, disbelieving shake of her head as she straightened from the pile she’d been sorting. “That’s impossible,” she said, voice low but firm. “We only picked up ten lifesigns. Ten. Not eleven.”

She glanced down at the uniforms again, her jaw tightening as she mentally re‑counted the piles she’d already sorted. Four on her side. Seven on his. Eleven total. The math refused to budge.

Shay exhaled slowly through her nose.

“So either one of these uniforms doesn’t belong to someone who’s still alive…” Her eyes flicked toward the open doorway, scanning the corridor as if expecting movement. “…or we're possibly missing someone.”

Neither option sat well with her.

"Let's continue on to Security. Maybe there might be more answers there."

"Unless they're dead," Larado said quietly as he set the uniforms back down. "Let's get out of here."

Shay’s brow furrowed hard, and she gave a small, tense shake of her head as she rose from her crouch. “That thought already crossed my mind,” she admitted quietly, voice tight at the edges. “I just… really hope that’s not what we’re looking at.”

One last glance at the uniforms — counting them again in her head, refusing to accept the implications. The sight sent a cold ripple down her spine despite the oppressive heat. She exhaled slowly, forcing her shoulders to steady. “Come on,” she said, stepping toward the doorway. “Let’s get back out there.”

Larado gave a nod as he turned and headed for the door, his phaser once again in hand and leading the way. As he walked down the corridor, he turned his head left and right.

"Security is just ahead," he said as he rounded another junction.

The Security complex seemed to be abandoned, but there were files on some of the consoles that seemed to be part of an investigation into the work the Tiburon was doing.

Shay stepped through the threshold into Security, slowing almost instinctively as the room opened up around her. The silence hit first — heavy, unnatural — followed by the sight of half‑open files glowing on abandoned consoles, chairs pushed back as if their occupants had simply stood up and walked away mid‑sentence.

She took a moment, letting her eyes adjust, letting her brain catch up. The place felt… paused. Like the ship had inhaled and never exhaled again.

Her tricorder lowered slightly as she moved deeper inside, boots echoing softly against the deck plating. One console in particular caught her attention — its display still active, lines of text referencing the nebula and the Tiburon’s last logged scans.

Shay stepped up to it, fingers brushing the edge of the panel as she leaned in to read. “These logs say they were compiling preliminary data, and were the first Federation vessel actively investigating this nebula.”

"Maddy let her eyes linger on the console a moment longer before meeting his again. “Now—walk me through how you prioritize incoming issues. With a department this active, I imagine you’re juggling more than the system makes obvious.”

"Why is Security doing it and not Science?" Larado asked as he looked around and went into the Chief of Security's office. "This place is wrecked, Lieutenant," he called. There were a few broken PADDs and the replicator had overflowed with a sticky, smelly weed like substance and onto the floor.

“That’s because the entire ship was on the investigation,” Shay said, answering Larado even as her gaze moved across the room. “Science was probably heading it, but whatever they found… it looks like it pulled in every department.”

Shay stepped around a broken PADD, boots sticking faintly against the residue on the deck, and approached the replicator. The substance had overflowed so badly it looked like it had been growing rather than simply produced.
She leaned in, tricorder angled toward the mess but not close enough to touch it. Her brow furrowed as she studied the texture. “Computer,” she said, crisp and controlled, “identify the substance present in the Security replicator.”

The computer beeped. "Macrocystis pyrifera, also known as Giant Kelp."

"Why would anyone be replicating kelp in Security and so much of it?" Larado asked.

Shay stared at the replicator for a long moment, the smell of the kelp thick in the air, earthy and wrong in a place meant for weapons checks and tactical briefings. She shook her head slowly, a tight, uneasy motion that made it clear she had no explanation for Larado’s question. “I… don’t know,” she admitted, looking over at him before her gaze drifted back around the wrecked Security office. “There’s no reason anyone in this department should be replicating kelp. And definitely not this much.”

She moved past the ruined replicator, the kelp smell still clinging to the warm air, when another scent caught her attention — sharp, briny. She slowed, turning toward a storage alcove near the wall. A faint trail of moisture glistened along the deck plating, leading to a small maintenance bin left half‑open. Shay crouched beside it, her wrist lamp sweeping over the contents.

Inside lay wet sand, coarse and dark, mixed with fragments of broken seashells — tiny spirals, chipped ridges, even a few pieces large enough to identify as bivalve. The sand was still damp, as if it had been replicated moments before the crew vanished.

Shay’s brow furrowed deeply. “…Larado,” she called, voice low, “we’ve got more over here. It's sand.”

Larado headed to where she was and blinked. "Sand...shells...seaweed...was something making a nest back here?"

Shay lowered herself into a crouch again, the cold grit of the sand sticking faintly to her fingertips as she touched it. It was damp — not just replicated and left, but handled, moved, shaped. She looked up at Larado from her position on the deck, brow furrowed. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, brushing a few grains off her glove. “But this is just getting stranger by the minute.”

Her gaze swept the scattered shells, the kelp spill, the wet sand — all of it forming a pattern that didn’t belong anywhere near a Security complex. She rose slowly, eyes still scanning the mess. “Larado… do you know if the Tiburon has a pool for recreational use?”

Larado checked his tricorder. "No, but it has a hydroponics bay on deck four," he informed her. "Why?"

Shay rose to her feet, brushing the damp sand from her fingertips as she looked over at Larado. The pieces were starting to form a pattern — not a comforting one, but a pattern nonetheless. “The kelp… the sand… the shells,” she said, gesturing lightly toward each in turn. “All of it points to water. Or at least someone trying to recreate an environment that belongs in it.”

She took a slow breath, eyes sweeping the wrecked Security office once more before meeting his gaze again. “If the Tiburon doesn’t have a pool, then the next closest thing is the hydroponics bay. It’s the only place onboard with controlled humidity, water flow systems, and plant life. We might be able to find more there.”

Larado followed suit, his light leading the way and his phaser following it. He gave a nod and headed out of Security and towards deck four. "I don't like this at all. I wonder what the others have found?"

The Lieutenant drew her phaser in a smooth, practiced motion, the weight of it doing nothing to ease the situation. She kept it low but ready, her eyes sweeping the corridor as Larado’s light cut ahead of them. “I don’t like it either,” she said, voice low but steady as she fell into step beside him. The ship felt wrong — too quiet, too empty, too full of clues that didn’t belong anywhere near Security. Every shadow seemed to hold its breath.

She kept her tricorder in her other hand, glancing at it between scans of the hallway. “I just hope the other teams have found survivors,” she added, the words tight with a hope she wasn’t sure she believed. “Or at least something that makes sense.”

"We should check in," Larado suggested."

Shay nodded immediately, the tension in her shoulders tightening as Larado’s suggestion aligned perfectly with her own instincts.

The Security Chief’s voice crackled through her combadge a second later, sharp and urgent, and Shay lifted her hand to tap the badge. "Di Pasquale to Mitchell, Becks or Simmons. Check in, please."

The Lieutenant lifted her hand to tap the badge. “Mitchell here,” she said, keeping her voice steady despite the unease crawling up her spine. “We’ve found empty uniforms, kelp, sand, and shells in Security. No sign of any crew. Larado and I are heading to the hydroponics bay on deck four — we’ve got a hunch the clues point toward something aquatic.”

Larado headed out of the Security complex and towards the hydroponics bay, his phaser and tricorder leading the way. "I don't like this, Lieutenant," he said.

"Neither do I," Shay said as she moved with him. They were here for answers, but were getting more questions instead.

A few minutes later, Larado paused outside of the hydronics area, taking note of the tall vegetables and herbs being grown through the transparent aluminum windows. He scanned with his tricorder. "I'm picking up three...six lifeforms in here, Lieutenant."

Shay shivered before she could stop herself — definitely not from the temperature, but from the way Larado’s tricorder readings tightened something low in her gut. Six lifeforms in a place that should’ve been empty, and after what they’d already seen, it was downright chilling. She nodded once, sharp and decisive, then lifted her phaser a little higher. “Alright,” she murmured, steadying her breath. “I’m going in. Stay right behind me.”

She slipped through first, phaser leading the way, every muscle tight with readiness. The humid warmth of the hydroponics bay hit her immediately, a stark contrast to the cold corridors outside — and an unsettling reminder that whatever was inside was alive. “Six lifeforms… I don’t like that at all. Let’s hope they’re survivors.”

"So do I," Larado said before he overrode the doors controls and stepped in, his phaser leading the way. In the center of his light, he saw four huddled naked crew members surrounded by vegetation and sand. "What in the...."

Shay’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face as Larado’s light swept over the scene — four naked Tiburon crew members, huddled together in a tight knot of bodies, surrounded by sand, vegetation, and humidity‑thick air. It was bizarre and unsettling.

She leaned in slightly toward Larado, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the cluster of crew. “Larado…” she murmured, still staring at the four figures, “we picked up six lifesigns, right? Because I’m only seeing four. Where are the other two?”

She swept her gaze across the bay — the sand piled unnaturally, the plants bent as though used for shelter, the humidity higher than regulation. Everything about it felt wrong.

The four huddled crewmembers looked at the Security officers and gave hissing gasps and started frantically talking over each other. "Help us." "We need...we need...we need..." "The Captain gave the orders..." "We were just..."

"Stop!" Larado said and raised his hand. "Who's in charge?"

"I am," came a deep rumble as a greyish skinned man stepped out of the office in the back. He looked like he had ran a week to get to them and he was perspiring heavily. "I'm Lieutenant Greer...and we're dying."

The sight was shocking — not just their state, but the raw fear in their eyes. She looked to Larado, then back at the cluster of trembling bodies, her phaser still held low but ready. When the grey‑skinned man stepped out from the back office — sweating, exhausted, barely upright — Shay straightened, her expression tightening. Lieutenant Greer. Dying. Six lifesigns. Four here. Two unaccounted for.

Shay leaned closer to Larado, keeping her voice low and controlled. “Larado… we need to beam them over to the Black Hawk,” she said, eyes flicking between Greer and the terrified crew. “They’re not safe here, and whatever in happening to them, we can’t treat it in the field.”

Larado looked just as shaken at the other officer. "You're right, Lieutenant," he said.

The man, Greer, kept slowly approaching them, wheezing for breath and looking like he was on the verge of collapse. "Please. Help. Us."

=^="Di Pasquale to all crew, prepare to beam back to the ship immediately,"=^= Camila said over their combadges.

Shay tapped her combadge after Camila’s order came through, her voice steady even as her pulse kicked up. “Lieutenant Mitchell to Black Hawk—four to beam directly to sickbay, emergency priority.”

Four columns of shimmering light enveloped the huddled crew, their frightened whispers cutting off as they dissolved into transporter streams.

The Lieutenant exhaled slowly, relief threading through her tension as the last beam faded, prompting her to tap her combadge again. “Chief, this is Mitchell. Hydroponics team is preparing to beam back immediately," she said. Even as she spoke, she swept her tricorder in a wide arc, eyes narrowing. The readings still showed six lifesigns. Four were gone now, and would hopefully be safe. That left two unaccounted for, somewhere deeper in the bay.

"Over here," Larado called as he helped a badly wounded human woman to her feet. It looked like she had bite marks all over her.

Shay’s stomach tightened as she took in the woman Larado was helping — pale, shaking, covered in bite marks. Whatever had happened in hydroponics had pushed these people past the edge of survival. She stepped closer, eyes sweeping over the wounds, then tapped her combadge with a firm, controlled motion. “Lieutenant Mitchell to Black Hawk — emergency transport. Beam one directly to sickbay, priority medical.”

A column of shimmering light enveloped the wounded woman, whisking her away in an instant. Shay exhaled, relief brief and fragile — because her tricorder was already chiming.

They were still down one lifesign.

She lifted the device, scanning across the bay. The last signal flickered on the far side, erratic and moving. “There’s still one more,” she said to Larado, her voice tightening. “Across the bay. We’re not leaving them.”

Shay raised her phaser and moved forward, weaving between tall stalks of hydroponic plants and patches of sand. The humidity clung to her skin, the air thick with the scent of vegetation and something far more primal. “Hang on!” she called out, projecting her voice toward the last lifesign. “We’re going to get you help!”

She stepped around a cluster of broad‑leafed plants—

—and a man lunged out at her, bursting from the shadows with a feral snarl, fangs bared, teeth gnashing as he dove straight for her.

Shay was immediately knocked to the ground, her phaser flying a few feet away as her pulse spiked. “Larado—!” she shouted, pushing against the transformed crewman came at her with animalistic fury.

Larado's arm came up with years of training and precision and snaped off two shots at the man, creature, or whatever it was without thinking. "Stop!" He shouted as he prepared to fire again.

Shay didn’t waste the opening Larado’s shots created. The creature’s lunge had knocked her backward, but as the twin bursts of phaser fire struck him square in the torso, he reeled just enough for her to act. Her hand shot out, grabbing the nearest object within reach — a heavy hydroponics nutrient canister, still slick with condensation — and she swung it hard across the side of his head.

The impact landed with a dull, wet crack.

The man‑creature staggered, eyes rolling, and the combined force of Shay’s blow and Larado’s phaser fire sent him collapsing off her in a heap, completely unconscious.

She scrambled up, breath sharp, adrenaline burning through her limbs. She tapped her combadge immediately. “Lieutenant Mitchell to Black Hawk — emergency transport. Beam one directly to the brig. Maximum containment. Medical standby for immediate evaluation.”

A column of shimmering light enveloped the unconscious man, whisking him away before he could wake and attack again.

Only once the beam faded did Shay turn to Larado, her grip tightening on her phaser. “It's time for us to go,” she said, voice low. “And hopefully figure out what the hell is going on.”

Larado was almost shaking when he looked at the creature as he was beamed away. "L-let's get off this cursed ship," he managed.

Shay didn't need to be told twice and called for their immediate transport out.

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