First Assignment

Posted on 2025, Sun Aug 24th, @ 7:39pm by Lieutenant Ariana Tessaro & Ensign Juno Atala

604 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Episode 2 "Demons of the Past, Friends of the Future" - USS Halo
Location: Deck 12, Secondary Computer Core
Timeline: Present

The corridors of Deck 12 were quieter than most at this hour — a thin hum of power conduits, the occasional footstep echoing off steel. Most of the crew were off-shift, leaving the ship’s heart beating steady and low in the dark.

Ensign Juno Atala walked the length of the corridor, a PADD tucked under her arm. On paper, she was running a diagnostic follow-up for Tactical. In reality, she was here because Tessaro had intercepted her after the mission briefing, speaking just loud enough for Juno to hear:

“2300. Secondary Core. Come alone.”

Now, Juno keyed open the hatch and slipped inside. The room was small, lined with consoles and fiber-optic bundles, the quiet pulse of the secondary computer banks filling the air. Tessaro was already there, leaning against a console like she belonged, shadows cutting across her face.

“You’re late,” Tessaro murmured.

Juno glanced at the chronometer — 22:59. “I’m early.”

Tessaro allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch, just barely. Then she reached into her uniform jacket and produced a slim isolinear chip. Gold casing, faintly etched with non-standard ridges.

“You’re going to insert this into Node 3 during your diagnostic run,” Tessaro said, handing it over.

Juno turned it in her hand. It looked like any other chip — except it wasn’t. “What’s on it?”

“Think of it as a filter. It will flag irregular communication streams — signals that don’t belong. The system will think it’s cross-referencing for redundancies.” Tessaro’s voice was low, clipped. “By the time the core realizes something extra was running, the filter will have burned itself out.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Juno asked.

“Then you were never here. Not even with me.” Tessaro’s eyes locked on hers, sharp as glass. “Understand?”

Juno exhaled slowly, nodding once. “Yeah. Understood.”

Tessaro stepped back, folding her arms. “You’ll have fifteen minutes. Run the diagnostic, insert the chip, and pull it when the system cycles green. If anyone walks in—”

“I’m testing failsafe response times,” Juno cut in, already improvising the cover story in her head. “Right.”

Tessaro’s faint smile returned — colder this time. “Good. You’re learning.”

Juno moved to the console, slotting her PADD into the interface. Fingers danced across the panel, calling up the standard diagnostic suite. Her heart thumped harder than it should have — this was just another job, she told herself. Just another run.

When the prompt flashed green, she slid the chip into Node 3. For a second, the lights flickered — nothing anyone else would notice, but enough to send a jolt down her spine.

The system purred. Data scrolled. No alarms. No warnings.

Juno pulled the chip out, palmed it, and slipped it back across the console to Tessaro.

“All clean,” she said quietly.

Tessaro nodded once, tucking the chip away like it had never existed. “Good. That’s the first step. Now we wait for what shakes loose.”

Juno leaned back against the console, arms crossed. “Feels like bait.”

“It is,” Tessaro admitted. “But bait only works if the fish are hungry. Trust me — they are.”

The silence stretched between them, filled with the low hum of the ship’s systems. Finally, Tessaro straightened, her shawl-like undershirt rustling against her jacket.

“Go. Get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll act like nothing happened. Because nothing did.”

Juno gave her a long look — a mix of suspicion, curiosity, and something like exhilaration — before she pushed off the console and headed for the hatch.

Behind her, Tessaro lingered in the shadows of the computer core, watching the empty monitors cycle through their steady, steady green.

Waiting.

Always waiting.

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