The Quiet That Shouldn’t Exist – There Was Nothing There – Star Trek Fanfiction (Red Directive #11)
For a moment, I didn’t move.
Didn’t think.
Just listened.
Eyes still closed.
“Computer… time.”
“It is approximately zero nine hundred hours. Restricted access to quarters ended at zero seven hundred hours.”
I immediately shot upright in bed, frowning. “Computer, lights, one hundred percent.”
Blind.
And awake.
That was much later than I expected.
Granted, I hadn’t set an alarm—but I rarely slept past six hours. Especially not out here. Not in the Gamma Quadrant.
And based on our experience so far… I had only half expected something would go wrong while I was off the bridge.
No alerts. No interruptions.
Nothing that qualified as a “dire emergency.”
It felt… surreal.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and moved quickly toward the sonic shower. No one had contacted me, but that didn’t mean I could afford to take my time.
I rushed through everything.
Except for those few moments under the sonic field.
Because that’s when it came back.
Q.
How was I the only one who saw him?
Was it even real?
“Oh, I think you already know.”
The memory hit like a whisper I couldn’t shut out.
The anomaly had been real. We were all in the briefing room, discussing it—planning for it.
And then I passed out… and it was gone.
Just like that.
That had Q written all over it.
Nothing else could remove something that massive from space in the blink of an eye.
But why just me?
Based on everything I’d read in the logs of Jean-Luc Picard… that wasn’t his pattern.
I didn’t even stop at the replicator on my way out. I headed straight for the bridge.
The corridor outside my quarters was empty, as usual. Quiet. Predictable.
I found myself wondering if Commander T’Varen had finally rotated off-duty. I needed to review her scans—every second of the last twenty-four hours.
There had to be another explanation.
There had to be.
The scientist in me refused to accept Q as the only answer.
I stepped into the turbolift.
“Bridge.”
The lift ascended in silence. Too quickly.
Moments later, the doors parted and the boatswain’s whistle cut through the air.
“Captain on bridge.”
I acknowledged it with a nod and moved toward my chair.
T’Varen’s station was empty. Of course it was. And of course she hadn’t left a PADD behind.
Vulcans didn’t forget things like that.
Before sitting, I paused and scanned the bridge.
Everyone was in position.
Everything… looked normal.
I glanced up at the main viewscreen—streaks of starlight rushing past as we held steady at warp.
“Helm, report. Estimated time to EOS Prospera.”
“At current speed, Captain, approximately thirty-six hours. All navigation systems are functioning within normal parameters,” Ensign Jaxa replied.
Almost too quickly.
I turned toward Science.
“Lieutenant Darak, science report.”
“Long-range sensors show no unusual readings, Captain. The region is clear.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He noticed.
His hands moved across the console again before he looked back up at me.
“Like I said Captain, sensors are still showing no unusual readings… Though the absence itself is… notable.”
Oh, I think you already know.
The thought slipped in so smoothly it didn’t feel like my own, and for a brief moment, I wasn’t sure if I had been the one asking the question at all.
I held his gaze longer than necessary.
That look.
Calculated. Measured.
Darak never watched people like that.
Now it felt like he was studying me.
Interrogating me.
For a moment, I wasn’t on the Cairo.
I was back on Cardassia.
Facing someone from the Obsidian Order.
The thought sent a chill down my spine.
No. Starfleet wouldn’t bring someone like that aboard unless they trusted him.
…Would they?
I broke the gaze.
“Captain to Engineering. Confirm all systems are functioning within normal parameters.”
Commander Pelia’s voice came through, lighter than expected.
“Captain, all systems are nominal… assuming we continue to define ‘nominal’ as ‘not currently on fire.’”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Finally. Something normal.
“Acknowledged.”
“Engineering out.”
At Ops, Lieutenant Drim was deep in a hushed but clearly animated conversation over the comm system.
I approached quietly.
Too quietly.
He didn’t hear me.
Interesting.
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
He jumped.
“Captain! I—uh—didn’t mean to be loud. I’m in the middle of a very important barter—”
“Oh you are, are you?” I folded my arms.
He faltered immediately.
“No, sir. A trade. Strictly a trade.”
Of course it was.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties.”
“It does not, Captain! All systems are optimal. Ferengi have short attention spans, but I remain focused.”
“At ease.”
He wasn’t my concern.
Not today.
I had just turned back toward my chair when the comm activated.
“Doctor to Captain.”
“Go ahead, Doctor.”
“Captain, your nutritional levels are below acceptable parameters. Continued neglect is not advised. I recommend immediate compliance. You are required to report to the mess hall immediately.”
I exhaled slowly.
Of course.
I turned toward the turbolift—
“Captain,” Drim added quickly, “the Senior Officer’s Mess is still undergoing maintenance from the refit.”
Of course it was.
“Lieutenant Darak, you have the bridge.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The turbolift doors closed.
My stomach growled.
The EMH was never wrong.
But I wasn’t going straight there.
“Transporter Room One.”
The ride was smooth. Steady. Almost… calming.
“Oh, I think you already know.”
I clenched my jaw slightly, forcing my focus back to the present as the hum of the turbolift tried—and failed—to drown it out.
The doors opened directly onto the transporter room.
It was quiet—except for the steady hum of sensors and the rapid cadence of data processing.
And chaos.
Controlled chaos.
PADDs everywhere.
At the center of it stood the young Andorian, focused, antennae twitching as data scrolled across multiple displays.
I stepped closer.
Before I could speak—
“Captain… I was reviewing the sensor logs from yesterday.”
Of course he was.
“I can’t explain it,” he continued, adjusting a handheld scanner. “But the readings feel… incomplete.”
He moved through the data faster than I could follow.
Focused. Precise.
Driven.
Satisfied, I stepped back—
His antennae shifted.
He turned immediately.
“Sorry, Captain! I didn’t mean for you to leave.”
“No explanation necessary, Chief. Carry on.”
His stomach growled.
I allowed a small smile.
“Or… you can join me in the mess hall. Apparently, I’ve been ordered there.”
We both smiled at the sarcasm in my voice. For a young humanoid, he seemed very wise.
“Fuel is necessary for optimal performance, Captain.”
I gestured toward the door. “Lead the way, Chief.”
He set his PADDs down just as messily as they had been arranged and hurried ahead of me to tap the turbolift panel.
The doors slid open and we both stepped inside. The Chief spoke before we barely had both feet in.
“Mess hall.”
Wise… but exaggerated.
“Oh, I think you already know.”
The voice was so clear it almost made me turn—almost—but I forced myself to stay still as if nothing had happened.
The turbolift began its descent, the low hum filling the silence between us.
The Andorian stood straight beside me, hands clasped tightly behind his back like he was trying a little too hard to look composed.
I could tell he wanted to say something.
He just… wasn’t sure how.
I let the silence sit for a moment longer than necessary.
Finally—
“I’m assuming the Senior Officer’s Mess is still unavailable,” he said, carefully.
I gave a small nod.
“Last-minute refit adjustments.”
He nodded once, like that confirmed everything he needed to know.
The doors slid open a second later.
The corridor was quieter down here, the lighting a little dimmer than the decks above. More lived-in.
We passed one of the holosuites just as the doors slid open—
and Kurn nearly walked straight into us.
He caught himself at the last second, straightening up like nothing had happened.
“Captain,” he said, already recovering. “I was engaged in calisthenic combat drills to maintain peak readiness.”
Of course he was.
I glanced back toward the holosuite as the doors began to close again.
“Seemed intense.”
“It was insufficient,” he replied flatly.
Naturally.
He gave a short grunt while smiling and continued past us toward the turbolift like nothing had happened.
Moments later, we reached the mess hall.
The doors opened automatically.
Refit upgrade.
Nice.
The lighting was warmer here.
Softer.
A handful of crew sat scattered throughout the room. Conversations low. Controlled.
Replicators hummed softly along the walls.
Normal.
Almost.
And then—
Aura.
Seated alone.
A tray untouched in front of her.
Her gaze lifted the moment I saw her.
A PADD in hand.
Already moving.
Here we go.
“Captain,” she said, stopping directly in front of me. “Your nutritional levels are below acceptable parameters. The EMH informed me you were ordered here for immediate compliance.”
“Correct, Aura.”
“I will assist in selecting appropriate nutritional options.”
Of course you will.
“Computer,” she said, “egg whites, dry wheat toast, blueberry vanilla smoothie.”
The meal appeared instantly.
Too late to stop it.
“Thank you, Aura. Next time… I’ll handle it.”
“I will remain available for assistance.”
I waited until she turned away.“…Computer, hashbrowns. Crispy. Shredded cheddar jack.”
The plate materialized instantly, and I wasted no time sliding it onto my tray like I was getting away with something.
Small victories.
Chief Ren made his way over and joined me near the center of the mess hall. No one else really seemed to notice we were there anymore.
Which was… new.
It went from quiet chatter to almost nothing at all.
I wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with me… or him.
You’d think they’d still be talking about what happened in the briefing room.
The anomaly.
The fact that it just… disappeared.
But nothing.
It felt off.
Not the kind of quiet I was used to.
The kind that makes you start questioning things.
We found a table not too far from Aura.
Of course.
I sat down and immediately started working on the hashbrowns before anyone could interfere.
“Captain.”
Too late.
She reached over, grabbed the entire dish, stood up, and walked it straight back to the replicator.
I just stared at her.
My stomach actually growled watching it disappear.
She came back like nothing happened and sat down.
“That was not part of your dietary requirements.”
Of course it wasn’t.
Chief Ren laughed.
I kicked him under the table.
He immediately stopped.
Worth it.
Aura looked between us like she was trying to process the entire interaction.
I sighed and went back to my dry toast like a defeated human being.
At some point, she got up again—quietly—and came back with drinks for both of us.
I’ll give her that.
At least I like blueberry tea.
The three of us sat there while Ren started asking her questions about EOS Prospera.
I barely listened.
I just sat there thinking.
Thinking about how close we came to not existing.
About the looks on their faces when they were told to abandon ship.
About how none of them remembered it.
How were we even here right now?
Everything felt… off.
“Oh, I think you already know.”
My grip tightened slightly around the edge of the table before I forced myself to relax.
They were laughing.
Like nothing had happened.
Like the universe hadn’t already decided how easily it could erase them.
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