What The Silence Left Behind
Posted on 11 Jan 2026 @ 1:56am by Captain Sabrina Corbin
1,122 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
The Displaced
Location: USS Arawyn
// Captain’s Ready Room //
The lights in the ready room were set low, warmed to a soft amber that softened the clean lines of metal and glass. One lamp remained active near the desk, its glow reflected faintly off the curved surface of the integrated command console. Beyond the viewport, stars slid past in steady silence.
Captain Sabrina Corbin sat at the desk, still in uniform, the jacket unfastened but not removed. Data scrolled quietly across the console in a subdued display, reports already collated and cross-referenced by the ship’s systems, waiting only for her attention.
A mug of tea rested within easy reach. Merrick had brought it himself not long ago, setting it down with quiet care and a brief assurance that it was meant to be soothing. Something grounding. She had thanked him, and meant it.
The ship was quiet. Not silent, but settled. Systems steady. The crew returning to routine. The kind of calm that followed something extraordinary, when there was nothing left to do but account for it.
Sabrina took a measured breath and rested her fingers on the console.
“Computer,” she said. “Begin official log.”
“Captain’s Log.
Several hours have passed since the stabilization and subsequent collapse of the spatial anomaly encountered by the USS Arawyn. This report serves to summarize final observations, actions taken, and assessment following the conclusion of all investigative measures.
At 1423 hours ship time, the anomaly destabilized and collapsed without secondary escalation. The event occurred rapidly and without detectable shockwave, energy backlash, or sustained subspace distortion. Concurrent with the collapse, all detectable traces of the non-Federation species and their associated technology ceased.
Immediately following the event, the Arawyn initiated a comprehensive sensor sweep of the surrounding region. All departments were tasked with independent and overlapping scans to ensure redundancy and verification.
Long-range and short-range sensors reported no residual subspace displacement. Graviton readings returned to baseline levels within seconds of collapse. Quantum variance scans detected no lingering resonance consistent with known wormholes, transwarp apertures, or conventional spatial ruptures. Exotic particle signatures previously present near the anomaly dissipated completely.
Engineering confirmed no residual stress to ship systems beyond previously logged tolerances. Structural integrity fields remained stable throughout the event. Shield emitters showed no degradation. Medical and environmental systems reported no anomalous biological or neurological effects among the crew.
Science teams conducted layered analysis, including passive scans, focused sweeps, and comparative modeling against known phenomena. Results were consistent across all platforms. No debris, no energy wake, and no matter displacement remnants were detected. The absence was uniform.
Based on available data, the anomaly does not align with established Federation classifications. Its behavior suggests a form of spatial transit or displacement beyond current Federation understanding.
The outcome of the non-Federation species’ transit cannot be conclusively determined. There is no evidence indicating failure, nor confirmation of successful arrival at an intended destination. All sensor data indicates complete closure of the anomaly without residual markers.
The USS Arawyn has concluded all feasible investigative measures within operational parameters. Further analysis will be limited to theoretical modeling and archival review unless new data becomes available.
This report is submitted for Starfleet record and review.
End log.”
The console chimed softly, neutral and final.
Sabrina did not move right away. She reached for the mug, took a measured sip, and let the warmth settle. Merrick had been right. It helped.
Outside the viewport, the stars continued on, unchanged.
After a moment, she leaned forward again.
“Computer,” she said more quietly, “open a private log.”
There was no stardate this time. No formal introduction.
“I have written the report Starfleet will read. It is accurate. It is complete. It is also insufficient.
We scanned everything. Every spectrum we know how to reach. Every shadow we know how to measure. Science, Engineering, Operations. Redundancy layered upon redundancy. The Arawyn did exactly what she was built to do, and the crew met every expectation I placed on them.
And still, there is nothing.
No trace of the rift.
No trace of them.
The universe closed around the space they occupied and left nothing behind.
This is my first command. That truth matters more tonight than it ever has. I have trained for uncertainty, studied it, prepared for it in simulations and briefings and theory. Experiencing it is something else entirely.
I do not know if they made it home.
That is the truth I cannot include in the official record. There is no field for it. No classification for unanswered hope. Only confirmation or failure, and this event offered neither.
We held the rift as long as we safely could. We balanced risk against responsibility and did not cross the line where curiosity would outweigh care. There were moments when pushing harder would have been possible. Tempting, even.
No one did.
That restraint was chosen. Quietly. Collectively. I felt it on the bridge as the margins narrowed, the unspoken agreement that we would not take more than we were given.
They trusted us. Briefly, incompletely, but enough. Enough to ask us to hold the door while they stepped through. Not to follow. Not to widen it. Just to keep it steady.
We did that.
I keep returning to that moment. The stillness of it. The knowledge that whatever happened next was no longer ours to influence. There are encounters Starfleet prepares you for, and there are those that simply ask you to bear witness.
This will be cataloged as an incomplete contact. An unresolved phenomenon. There will be theories and debates conducted far from this room by people who were not there.
They will not have felt the weight of choosing restraint.
I hope they are home.
I hope the sky they emerged beneath was familiar. That the ground made sense beneath their feet. That they remember the Arawyn as a place that gave them time, and nothing more.
Hope is not evidence. I know that. It does not belong in reports or briefings. It belongs here, in the quiet, with the lights low and the ship finally at rest.
Some encounters are not meant to be finished.
Some questions are not meant to be answered by us.
We were fortunate to be there at all.
End private log.”
The computer acknowledged the closure softly.
Sabrina remained seated a moment longer, tea warming her hands, eyes on the stars beyond the viewport. When she finally stood, she fastened her uniform jacket with practiced ease and dimmed the lamp the rest of the way.
The coordinates where the rift had once existed were indistinguishable from any other stretch of space.
Quiet. Whole. Unmarked.
She turned back to the ship, carrying forward what the silence had left behind.
Captain Sabrina Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn
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