A mild hush settles over the bridge, the hum of the ship’s systems underscoring a tense calm. Asteroid debris drifts across the main viewscreen, illuminated by sporadic flashes of subspace sparks. Consoles beep intermittently, reflecting the ongoing sensor sweeps.

With one hand covering his mouth, Adrián studies partial engineering logs from the earlier anomaly encounter. The damage isn’t severe, and repairs are already well underway. For now, they occupy a relatively safe spot, until a sudden noise from Quinn captures his attention.

“Captain, I’m picking up faint subspace echoes from the Grim Wall that don’t match any Klingon frequencies,” Aneesa says, eyes narrowing at the data scrolling across her console.

Adrián lowers his hand and leans back in his chair, gaze fixed on Quinn. “Could they be distortion from our last sensor sweep?” he asks, flicking a glance at the main viewscreen as the system attempts to pinpoint the signals’ origin.

Shaking her head, Aneesa taps a few controls. “No, sir. They’re too structured, like coded transmissions.” She looks around at the others on the bridge. “That’s all I can figure out right now. I can do a re-check if needed.”

Before Adrián can reply, Thal jumps in. “I can reinforce long-range scans, but the interference is intense,” he says, searching for ways to boost the signal. “If this truly is a coded message, we might be closer to finding out what happened here, Captain.”

Adrián nods slowly. “Do it. Let’s see who’s hiding in that chaos.” He turns his attention to the dense asteroid field displayed on the viewer, a place largely unknown to anyone on the bridge, aptly named the Grim Wall.

A while later, the science and operations consoles glow faintly under overhead lights. The subdued atmosphere intensifies focus on the data streaming across Quinn’s display. She takes a steadying breath, trying to sort and organize the incoming information.

“I’m running an alpha-level decrypt, but nothing’s unraveling these data fragments,” Thal admits, his frustration barely contained as he tirelessly attempts to crack the code.

“Let me…” Aneesa’s fingers fly over her console as she scans the input. “Layer a neural-net algorithm on top. If it’s not Klingon script, we need a broader approach.” She suspects Thal wants to believe the Klingons are responsible, but the evidence points elsewhere.

Adrián steps closer, scanning the console readouts. “You’re certain it’s encrypted communication?”

Glancing back, Aneesa gives a firm nod. “I’d bet my career on it. And it’s advanced, whoever they are.” She looks back down, more resolved than ever.

Adrián exhales. This is where he has to trust his team. “Then we need answers, fast.”

The overhead lighting flickers as the Himalaya adjusts power allocation for deeper scans. Valerio stands behind Thal’s station, arms crossed, reading lines of code cascading across the screen. “If these transmissions aren’t Klingon, we have an unknown factor exploiting the Grim Wall.” He isn’t entirely surprised; after what he’s seen at Hecate Station, nothing here feels shocking.

“They’re bouncing signals off multiple subspace nodes, like a relay network,” Aneesa says, tapping the console in disbelief. “It’s more sophisticated than a pirate or smuggler ring.”

Thal frowns. “I’m picking up faint power signatures at random intervals. Could they be mobile?” He glances at Adrián, who’s still watching the readouts intently.

“We’ll stay on them,” Adrián decides. “We’ll find out who’s trespassing in Federation space.” He can’t shake the thought that someone might be testing a weapon or device capable of wreaking havoc in the Grim Wall, endangering ships on the Pilgrim Route.

After a while, the Himalaya’s security station comes alive with tactical readouts. Darius, having observed quietly, leans over the console as the gentle pulse of yellow alert lights casts shifting shadows. He notices Adrián reviewing the latest intel. “Commander,” Darius begins, catching his CO’s eye, “I recommend a security sweep of our comm arrays and main computer. There’s too much data traffic for comfort.”

Adrián arches a brow, then checks his own console’s readouts. “Agreed. Raise shipwide security to Level Two,” he orders, turning to Darius.

Nodding, Darius inputs the commands. “Teams One and Two, check every major system for unauthorized access,” he instructs, his tone measured and firm. “We have an unknown threat out there, possibly targeting the Himalaya.”

“If these signals escalate, or if someone tries to board us,” Adrián adds, noticing the worried faces on the bridge, “we’ll be ready.”