In the waiting room, people sat quietly, waiting their turn to be called to the front desk. The room was filled with various species, their diverse jobs reflected in the uniforms they wore. Civilians were also present, waiting to file complaints. It had been a busy time for the security hub since Hecate Station’s new leadership announced they were opening assistance to anyone in need.

Further into the hub, security officers from investigations, forensics, inspections, and enforcement were stationed at their desks, busily carrying out their duties. The change in policy had increased their workload. Some approved of the new approach, seeing it as a step forward, while others were less enthusiastic. Deeper within, the Chief Security Officer’s office, belonging to Domam Ze, was cluttered with boxes covered in PADDs and old gear. Behind the desk, Domam sat, engrossed in a PADD.

The report detailed thefts across the station: supplies disappearing and maintenance logs showing unexpected system tampering. Frustration built as Domam glanced at the other PADDs scattered across his desk, each telling the same story, indicating the thefts were spreading across multiple sectors of the station. He shrugged and placed the PADD down as he noticed a Tellarite entering his office. “As if called by fate itself, my man, Nirech Crim! What can I do for you?”

The older Tellarite raised a brow. “Please keep it formal, Lieutenant Ze. I’m not a fan of this ‘personal’ approach, even if I am your assistant.” He glanced over his shoulder at an engineer who looked visibly shaken, then gestured for the man to step forward. “This is the maintenance officer who’s been working on recent tube repairs.”

The man, still shaken, stopped next to Nirech and hesitated before speaking. “Sir, there’s something… alive in the tubes. I thought it was vermin, but it’s not.” His voice quavered, and he looked partly ashamed of his fear.

Domam exchanged a glance with Nirech before rising from his chair. “We’d better get to work, then. Thank you for reporting this.” He patted the man on the shoulder as he passed him. “Get a security team ready, Lieutenant Crim,” Domam ordered, heading toward the armory.

Nirech shook his head slightly, following Domam. “Lieutenant, we don’t have enough data to confirm that something’s alive. It could just be vermin, you know.”

“Now, now,” Domam replied, grabbing a phaser. “I’ve got a desk full of theft reports all pointing to the tubes, and now we’ve got a scared officer seeing things down there? I’d say we’ve waited long enough. Gear up, Lieutenant, we’re going into the tubes to catch ourselves that ‘rat.’” Domam’s eagerness carried an undertone of frustration with the larger, unresolved issue.

Murmuring under his breath, Nirech gave a faint smile. “Lead the way, boss.”

Maintenance Levels

The Maintenance Levels were a maze of narrow corridors, dimly lit by flickering amber lights embedded in the deck plating. Makeshift repairs dotted the area, with exposed plasma conduits pulsing faintly and casting sporadic blue and green glows. The metallic tang of recycled air hung thickly. Access hatches to the Jeffries tubes, marked with hazard warnings, showed signs of unauthorized use, scuffed plating and grimy handprints betraying recent activity.

Domam crouched to inspect one of the handprints and signaled the team to move deeper. Holding a tricorder, he began tracking faint energy readings from tampered panels. “Looks like we’re closing in on one of the reported areas,” he muttered.

His phaser in hand, scanned the corridor. “Doesn’t look like we’re dealing with just one rat,” he said, noticing subtle signs of habitation, scuffed floors, discarded food wrappers, and encoded markings scrawled on the walls. Nirech huffed and followed the team.

As they approached the next Jeffries tube access point, the sound of scurrying feet echoed faintly. Domam raised a hand to signal for silence and caution. Slowly, he moved forward, his weapon drawn. Suddenly, a small figure darted from the shadows. Nirech lunged to grab it but missed. Domam reacted quicker, capturing a young girl clutching a ration pack.

The girl struggled, shouting, “Let me go!” Domam held firm.

Kneeling beside her, Nirech voice calm and gentle. “We’re not going to hurt you. Who else is here? What’s your name?”

The girl hesitated, her wide eyes full of fear. Finally, she whispered, “There are more of us. Don’t take us away.” Slowly, she introduced herself as Nyla, revealing that she had lived in the tubes for three years under the protection of Vresh, the eldest of the group.

Tube Rats’ Hideout

Nyla reluctantly led Domam and Nirech to the Tube Rats’ hideout, a cramped space filled with crates of stolen food and medical supplies. Domam’s sharp eyes scanned the area, confirming his suspicions about the stolen goods. Makeshift beds and crude drawings adorned the walls. A group of children, aged 9 to 16, huddled defensively near an older boy, no more than 17.

“You don’t belong here!” the teenager shouted, brandishing a makeshift weapon. “Give us back Nyla!” His protective stance showed his concern for the younger girl.

Stepping forward. “You must be Vresh. This ends now. You’re putting the entire station, and yourselves, at risk by being here.” Domam spoke calmly.

Vresh scoffed. “Risk? We’re just trying to survive. You think Starfleet cares about us?” He pointed at the stolen crates. “You only care about your supplies. Leave us alone!”

Nirech interjected, his tone measured. “We want to help. We know the Syndicate has been using you, forcing you to do their work. You don’t have to be their pawns anymore.”

The young boy hesitated, Vresh grip on the weapon tightening. “Help us? The Syndicate will come for us if we stop. They gave us protection when Starfleet turned its back on us.” His voice carried anger and distrust.

Domam’s tone softened. “Come with us to the security hub. We can keep you safe and provide medical attention for those who need it.” His eyes lingered on a coughing child. “If you’re truly their leader, prove it. Take a step to protect them. Things are changing, for the better.”

Vresh’s hardened expression faltered as distrust battled with the faintest glimmer of hope.