The doors of the turbolift swooshed open, barely parting before D’Antonio burst through and onto the bridge. “Report,” he ordered, his tone sharp.

Pressly followed behind him to the command center whilst T’Ren made quick strides to the science console, her hands already scanning for data.

On the viewport, eight unknown vessels drifted towards them in a tight formation. Their sleek, dark metallic finish was hidden amongst the swirling hues of the Trialen’s nebular haze, as if trying to cloak themselves with the nebula itself.

“Eight unidentified vessels on approach, sir,” reported Lieutenant Commander Mirel from operations. Her voice carried a note of restrained excitement. Like many aboard Typhoon, she had joined Starfleet in the aftermath of the Dominion War. Drawn by the promise of exploration she’d never truly experienced. Today might be her first taste of it.

D’Antonio studied the display in silence, his reflection faint in the glass. First contact, he thought. The test every captain waits for and dreads. He turned to the communications station, his voice less sharp but still commanding, “Uhmari, let’s greet our new neighbors.”

“Aye, sir,” came the calm reply from the Halian communications officer. Lieutenant JG Shiva Uhmari’s slender fingers moved across the console with practiced precision. “Channel open, captain.”

D’Antonio stepped forward, shoulders square but expression open. “This is Captain Giovanni D’Antonio of the Federation starship Typhoon. We come in peace as explorers, on a mission of mutual understanding. We hope that our meeting marks the beginning of a friendship built on respect and cooperation.”

Silence.

The bridge was still, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the warp engine and the beeps of the sensor systems.

“Lieutenant, all channels and frequencies. Maybe they can’t hear us,” Pressly suggested as he stood up and stopped to the right of the captain. His hands loosely clasped behind his back.

Uhmari adjusted the bands and then nodded to the pair. “All channels open, sirs.”

D’Antonio cleared his throat, his voice steady but carrying a trace of warmth. “This is Captain Giovanni D’Antonio of the USS Typhoon. We come in peace on a mission of mutual understanding.”

Again silence. Then… a burst of static.

The viewscreen flickered once, then twice, before stabilizing. A figure appeared, alien yet unmistakably humanoid. Even seated, they seemed tall. Their face was narrow, with wide-set eyes that caught the light in shades of gold and amber. Their necks were elongated, their skin pale, and their temples pulsed with a soft blue glow. Their hair shimmered like a blinding white light.

The silence on the bridge was as if the ship itself was holding its breath.

D’Antonio straightened, his voice calm but resonant. “Well,” he murmured under his breath, “looks like the neighbors are home after all.”

The figure looked at them with an untraceable emotion. “Welcome, travelers, our light meets on the tide,” they spoke with a soft tone that sounded almost musical. “We have detected your vessel’s resonance; it is strong but not discordant. I am Shipmaster Kreek-ven of the Grand Republic of Valen. You are Captain Giovanni D’Antonio of the USS Typhoon. May the stars light your path.”

D’Antonio looked at the man as he briefly exchanged glances with Pressly. “Greetings,” he started, smiling softly, “We are new to your region and are simply here to explore and understand this area of space.”

The blue light in Kreek-ven’s temple flickered amber as he inclined his head. “I do not understand. Are you saying you come from,” he paused, “beyond the storm?”

“Yes,” D’Antonio responded, “We were sent here by our people to learn more about the storm and the civilizations that live inside.”

Murmurs could be heard through the transmission.

“We’ve heard tales of people being able to travel beyond the storm from our ancestors, but,” he paused again. Another voice came through the channel; it was lighter and distinctly feminine. She insisted that they need to report this to the council in person. If what the outsiders claim is true.

Nodding in agreement, Kreek-ven turned his attention back to D’Antonio. “My second has advised me that you must accompany us to our homeworld. Our government would be most interested in learning how you ventured to our home.”

Nodding, D’Antonio smiled. “Led the way, Shipmaster.”

The bioluminescent light along his temple flashed teal as he nodded, then the channel closed.

“You all can breathe now,” D’Antonio stated jokingly. The bridge erupted into gentle laughter. “Mr. Sheppard follow our friends but at a comfortable distance. This is a blind date after all.”

Sheppard smirked, “Aye, sir.”

The Typhoon moved with precision as it slowly turned following behind the Valen formation into the unknown.

However, somewhere in the distance, a ship sat hidden within the nebular haze. Watching the encounter and listening to the outsiders. For now, they would observe, but when the time was right, they would. Strike.