Sitting in that white room, with nothing to do but look at the perfectly uniform white walls was, quite frankly, about as close as I had ever come to experiencing the mythological concept of hell. Trying to keep track of time was difficult, my heartbeat and breath the only sound that I could even attempt to count. Just to keep the silence at bay, I started a slow, rhythmic tap on the table, keeping tact with my heartbeat but even that helped only so much.

Finally, after some time between fifteen minutes and an hour, the door opened again and someone entered. Knowing that it most likely was an officer, I stood, turning around to salute. The one who had entered was dressed in a Starfleet Uniform, my eyes quickly checking rank, speciality and name, causing me to blink in surprise when the name-tag was missing. Regulation said that it was part of the uniform, just as much as the rank, speciality and unit-tags, not something that could be casually taken off. But, unless he was some sort of imposter, he was a lieutenant in naval intelligence and thus a superior officer, even if his uniform wasn’t correct. And so I saluted him, while taking in the rest of him.

What I saw left me a little unimpressed, he looked reedy, a little taller than me but, if I had to guess, massing less. He looked, quite frankly, as if he had never seen the inside of a gym before, making me wonder if the usual fitness regulations were suspended for naval intelligence. Another, slightly evil, part wanted to see him in a physical training exercise, maybe unarmed combat, against a marine or, really, anyone who had serious training. I also noted that he had a small bud in his ear, likely to allow him to receive information from outside.

He let me stand there for a moment before returning the salute and gesturing for me to sit.

“Good Afternoon, Cadet Horn. Let’s get a little housekeeping out of the way first, yes?” he asked, after getting a chair from the wall and sitting across from me. He had a tablet with him, maybe to make notes and placed it in front of him, slanted so I wasn’t able to see what was on the screen.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied after waiting for a second, just in case the question had been rhetorical enough that he didn’t need me to answer. What followed was about what I would have expected, questions to verify, possibly for the record, who I was, my position at the Academy, my current deployment to the Merathorn and even where I originally came from. Still, despite the routine nature of the questions, he was tapping on his tablet, making me a little uncomfortable. In addition, despite all his questions, he had yet to introduce himself which felt a little weird, the lack of decorum adding to my discomfort.

“Let’s talk about the events that occurred on the 23.7.978 universal calendar, in system F-347, starting 5:43 shiptime.” the officer asked. Curiously, despite it being a week in the past, I knew the time-stamp from the report I had written and reviewed on the way here. It was standard operating procedure to write one after deployment but it had been the first time my reports had said anything other than routine.

“Yes Sir. The Merathorn was scheduled to leave hyperspace and Carmine-Squadron Group 3 had received orders to be on standby in the launch-tubes. Upon leaving hyperspace, the bridge reported strange sensor-readings and we were ordered to launch to clarify them.” I began, simply repeating what I had written in my report.

“Who ordered the deployment?” the Lieutenant interrupted, making me frown.

“Captain Burris, Master of the Merathorn, gave the order.” I explained, not sure what he meant. Who else would give the order to deploy Starfighters, if not the Captain or his second in command if he was not available?

“Thank you, continue.” he nodded, tapping on his tablet again.

“We launched and began accelerating towards the strange sensor-readings, forming a loose formation. The readings had been long-distance so we there was a lot of distance between the Merathorn and us, causing a considerable flight-time.” I continued and again, he interrupted, this time asking me to clarify the formation.

“We split in pairs, Carmine 9 flying as my wingman, while Carmine 11 and 12 formed the other pair, led by Carmine 11.” I explained, not sure where he was going with that.

“Isn’t that uncommon? Carmine 9, Commodore Ryker, has considerable experience, yet he made you fly in the lead-position?” he asked and I began to frown about the direction of his questioning. But I had been ordered to answer his questions, so answer I did.

“I can only speculate about Commodore Ryker’s motivation.” I prephased, waiting for a moment, causing him to wave me on, as if impatient, “And if I were to do so, I would assume that he wanted me to gain more experience. It was supposed to be a simple scout-mission, with little danger.”

Again, he looked at me for a bit, making me wonder if he was receiving information over his earbud, before tapping a little more on his tablet.

“Thank you, continue.” he ordered.

I went over the rest of the approach, not that there was a lot to say, it had been as simple as flying a Starfighter could be. Once that was covered, we got to the interesting part and I related how Commodore Ryker had ordered to split in pairs so we could cover more space. Again, I was asked to justify that decision, effectively making me pass judgement on Commodore Ryker’s decision. It just felt wrong but somehow, the Lieutenant didn’t care about the discomfort he was causing me. I had no answer other than that it was consistent with the standard Starfighter doctrine and other than that, I was too inexperienced to give a reasoned statement. Again, more nodding, more staring, more tapping.

We went over Carmine 11 and 12 finding the rock and how, just a little later, Carmine 9 had identified the projectiles before either my computer or I had managed to do so, giving me enough time to dodge. At that point, he asked me how Carmine 9 could have known that, making me wonder what was going on here. The only answer I was able to provide was that, according to Commodore Ryker, he had seen similar weapons before. Hearing that, the lieutenant tapped on his tablet some more before stopping for a moment, strengthening my belief that he was receiving information from elsewhere.

“And it was only thanks to the Commodore that you were able to dodge the projectiles?” he asked after that period of silence.

“Yes, Sir. My computer only made the identification after I had already dodged, otherwise, I wouldn’t have had time.” I confirmed, remembering just how close it had been.

“At that point, according to your report, your sensors picked up some strange signals before the contact you had been sent to confirm, which turned out to be an unidentified Starship, performed a hyperspace-jump and disappeared, correct?” he continued and again, I confirmed.

“Were you able to see what type of Starship it was?” he asked, causing me to gawk at him for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.

“No Sir, I was not and, as far as I know, neither were the Merathorn’s analysts. Maybe professional analysts from Naval Intelligence can see more on those readings but I was unable to.” I stated, not wanting to ask if he had any idea just how far away I had been. Maybe he thought that Starfighters actually had windows for us to look out, so I would have been able to see something that wasn’t recorded. Again, he waited for a moment before blushing crimson, making me wonder what he had been told from outside. Maybe he had read my mind.

When I had that thought, I felt a shiver run down my spine, making me wonder if that might be accurate. There was nothing that stopped a psi-com officer to don a naval uniform, so he might have read it. Forcing down my sudden panic, I pushed all superfluous information from my mind, picturing a placid lake. It helped keep me calm, even when the Lieutenant continued to ask questions about the events, somehow questioning each and every detail.

Once we completed that run through the events, finishing with the landing on the Merathorn, some eight hours after the operation had began, he hemmed for a moment, tapping some more on his tablet, before the door opened and another person entered, Again, I stood, ready to salute, but the one entering was a civilian making me stop mid-motion.

“Good Afternoon, Cadet Horn. Thank you for your cooperation, I just have a few more questions for you.” he said, not offering a name or anything, just waving me off, gesturing back to my seat while he got another chair.

“Now, have you ever heard about an organisation named Void Guard?” the unnamed civilian asked, making me frown again.

“No, Sir, I can’t say I have ever heard that name.” I replied, now thoroughly confused.

“Interesting.” he paused for a second and the Lieutenant tapped on his tablet for a moment, before showing it to the civilian who nodded.

“Thank you, Cadet Horn. That will be all, a security officer will escort you back to the shuttle.” the Lieutenant told me, gesturing for me to stand before standing himself.

“You are dismissed.” he said after a salute and the door opened to reveal the same officer who had guided me here, waiting for me.

Nothing was said on the way back to the shuttle, making it a thoroughly weird and very unpleasant experience.