** Captain's Log**

The USS Anaheim was witness to the destruction of the Underspace tunnel we had been thrust out of. The Cardassian Union vessel was content to shadow our position once they had been successful in preventing interference to the platform's work. While having a shadow created tension on board, the crew performed well with only a few stress related injuries reported from sickbay. 

Fylar, my chief science officer continues to try and piece together clues and information from the scans we performed. I share her frustration at the loss of such a vast opportunity for exploration and travel, though we can do little now. 

Currently we are making our way back towards the usual Task Force 17 service area, though it will require significant travel time. I have alerted Fleet Command of our unusual placement, and we are currently offloading supplies and cargo at a moon installation. With the capacity of the Anaheim, we replaced three cargo runs for the usual shuttles and the delivery has gone smoothly. Once completed, we will continue our journey towards home. 

Callum was scanning the astronavigation charts, weighing the different requests from some of the departments on board. There were always experiments, engineering tweaks and other considerations to weigh when working on the more routine parts of a Starfleet vessel's life. 

Considering the thought superstitious, he knocked on the desk and hoped replicated wood had the same effect as Earth oak supposedly had. The science department was hard at work, deciphering and working through the data they had received, and he had been advised of a few delicate experiments they were hoping to perform. Nothing that would tax the ship, but would require they skirt a few nebulas that radiated varying forms of energy. 

Engineering wanted to take the time they had ahead to shake down the systems and make sure the engines were fully repaired, and optimized. There were always ways to increase output, and he was tempted to let the Anaheim really fly. Although that was tempered with the knowledge that it might reflect poorly if he was seen to be pushing the ship recklessly. 

So he was trying to figure out a mix of both, as well as reviewing a couple other proposed drills when the door opened to his ready room. Looking up, he was surprised to see Moira walking in with a concerned look on her face. “Captain, do you have a moment?” she said, sitting down when he waved towards the chair. 

“Of course Moira. I was just looking at the charts, you are a welcome break. What do you need?” Callum asked.

Moira sat down, taking the chair Callum had gestured to and sighed as she eased sore legs from standing. “Well, there is no gentle way to say this so here goes,” she said with a look he knew was telling him to brace for bitter medicine. 

“We found two of the crew trying to bring aboard contraband. One was approached by a miner on the moon station, and security caught them on the station. He was trying to buy Maraji crystals. Apparently, he has told their staff that he had heard Cardassian's might buy them, and figured we would be stopping at a station nearby enough they would maybe find a buyer,” Moira said, reading the report from her PADD, working hard to keep her voice professional as the details were anything but.

“That's a serious charge,” Callum said. Moira nodded, trying to recall everything she had learned of the various contraband regulations, and the punishments that could be levied against a Starfleet member. 

“You said two, I take it there is more,” he gestured for her to continue.

“Yes. The second one we found onboard the Anaheim. We discovered it because of a routine safety scan, and thankfully we did. Someone had sealed a canister within the crating and had no doubt been hiding it. When the scans recorded Kemocite, I had the crew chambers searched, and we found evidence of it on another ensigns boots. She refuses to explain how she arranged for the undocumented canister of it, nor will she explain what she had hoped to do with it,” Moira said, her annoyance and anger clear as she finished her report. 

Moira knew these had been sloppy, the crew members in question taking advantage of the chaos caused by an unexpected appearance in the Alpha Quadrant. Still, it galled her to think of someone trying to risk the reputation and safety of others on board, and for such base reasons. Surely there was not enough wealth to be made in something like this, to make risking your career worth it. 

“Has the station been able to find anything?” Callum asked, his question cutting through some of her angry train of thoughts. 

“Well the Kemocite appears to have been siphoned from canisters over awhile. It has approved uses on the mining site, but they have not been able to determine the culprit quite yet. They may not know before we are due to depart, though they are now alerted to the issue,” Moira said simply, not knowing the answer would please either of them, but there was only so much they could do to convince the ensign to speak. 

“They have said they will return our crewmember to our custody, as they do not have a proper detention center. The sale was prevented, so they will be providing us with statements from both, and the Mariji has been destroyed. As a civilian contractor, the other party does not fall within our purview, but I was going to have the Ensign moved to the brig once aboard,” Moira explained, turning from the surprise and anger towards dealing with the issue at hand. 

Callum rubbed his face, and told the computer to hold on updating the charted course. “Thanks for letting me know Moira. We both know this was likely stupidity and greed, though I ask that you let Beron know as well. We will have to keep a sharper eye on things, and hope it is only a couple of bad apples. We can also be glad we caught it here, where both sides can try and prevent anything further from happening. I would have hated to be the one bringing such things to another station. Please keep me informed, and I will alert JAG, they will need to be advised of any developments,” Callum said as he walked with her onto the bridge, taking a moment to check on the progress of the cargo swap. 

“Moira,” he called as he saw her marching stiffly to the turbolift. “Take our time, and lets do it by the book. If she says anything, I want it noted for later. We will make sure this is an isolated thing,” Callum said knowing there was little more to say on the bridge with other ears around them. With her nod, he told the helmsman to change their course for the larger Starbase nearby, knowing they would have to proceed from there.