Horizon

Posted on Mon Jul 27th, 2026 @ 5:15am by Captain Marc Steyn & Lieutenant Syvar MD

2,037 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Season 1, Episode 1: Ashes of Wolf 359
Location: Broken Hill - Australia

ON

Having finished his conversation with Max Vero, Marc knew there was one final stop to make before he departed Earth entirely and continued onward to Earth Space Dock. This time, rather than relying on transport arranged through official channels, he had requisitioned a shuttle from the Starfleet installation just outside Bologna, Italy.

For once, there was no urgency pushing him forward, just the quiet hum of the shuttle’s engines and the endless expanse of the planet below. Marc decided to take the opportunity for a moment of solitude, setting a course across the equatorial regions of his homeworld before eventually turning south toward Australia.

From the cockpit, Earth stretched endlessly beneath him in a tapestry of colour and motion. The rolling green landscapes of Europe gave way to the shimmering blue of the Mediterranean, where ancient coastlines met waters that had carried humanity’s history for thousands of years. As the shuttle crossed into Africa, Marc watched vast deserts give way to dense forests and sprawling cities, reminders of a world that had changed dramatically yet still retained echoes of its past.

The journey continued over the Indian Ocean, where the endless horizon was broken only by scattered islands and the occasional shimmer of orbital traffic moving silently overhead. Below him, the great Australian continent emerged from the blue, its vast interior glowing beneath the afternoon sun. From above, the continent appeared almost untouched in places, a landscape of ancient reds, golds, and greens that had existed long before humanity ever set foot upon it.

Eventually, his destination came into view through the shuttlecraft’s panoramic forward windows.

Broken Hill.

A city born from the harsh beauty of the Australian outback.

The settlement had come a remarkable distance since its founding in the nineteenth century, when it had begun as a remote mining community built around one of the richest mineral deposits on Earth. What had once been an isolated frontier town, shaped by dust, heat, and the determination of generations of miners, had evolved over the centuries into a thriving centre of culture, science, and residential life.

By 2367, Broken Hill stood as a monument to humanity’s ability to preserve its past while embracing the future. The historic mining districts had been carefully maintained, their original structures restored and integrated into the modern cityscape as living reminders of Earth’s industrial heritage. The old red earth and rugged terrain remained untouched in many areas, while advanced Federation technology had transformed the city into a comfortable and sustainable settlement within one of the planet’s most challenging environments.

Climate-controlled habitats blended seamlessly with the natural landscape, using advanced environmental systems to support gardens, parks, and residential communities that flourished beneath the Australian sun. Solar arrays stretched across the surrounding plains, providing clean energy while preserving the open beauty of the outback. The city’s famous artistic and cultural traditions had endured as well, with galleries, research facilities, and historical centres attracting visitors from across Earth and beyond.

Broken Hill had become a place where solitude and civilisation existed in perfect balance—a refuge for those who wished to escape the crowded worlds of Earth’s major cities without abandoning the comforts of modern life.

Marc guided the shuttle downward, reducing speed as the coordinates of his destination locked into view. After a final adjustment, he brought the craft into a controlled descent, the landing thrusters firing gently as the shuttle settled onto the grounds of the residence belonging to his next intended recruit.

The home itself was a striking contrast to the rugged landscape beyond its boundaries. A carefully maintained garden surrounded the property, with native Australian flora carefully cultivated alongside carefully selected species from across the Federation. Hardy desert plants stood alongside vibrant flowering species, all thriving beneath the protection of discreet environmental systems. Behind the residence, a crystal-clear swimming pool reflected the bright Australian sky, its surface shimmering beneath the afternoon sun.

The shuttle touched down beside a carefully arranged garden bed, the landing struts lowering with a soft mechanical hiss before the engines fell silent.

For a brief moment, there was only stillness.

The rear hatch of the shuttle began to descend as Marc rose from the pilot’s console. Before stepping outside, he paused to retrieve his sunglasses, slipping them on as the brightness of the Australian sun immediately greeted him. The heat was intense, far exceeding anything he had experienced during his time in Italy or even the warmer climates of Cape Town.

The difference was immediate.

The grass beneath his boots was still green and crisp, carefully maintained by the home’s environmental systems, but beyond the boundaries of the property the landscape changed dramatically. The surrounding terrain was dry and open, dominated by red earth, scattered rock formations, and hardy vegetation adapted to survive beneath the relentless Australian sun.

In many ways, it reminded Marc of Vulcan.

Not in appearance exactly, but in spirit—the quiet, the isolation, the sense of a world that demanded respect from anyone who ventured across it.

He stepped forward, allowing the hatch to close behind him, and looked toward the residence ahead.

"Doctor Syvar?"

A middle aged Human walked out, smiling at the visitor. "Hello, I'm Alice Moor. Syvar should be in the barn helping out his father. The sheep need shearing so he came home just in time. Who can I say is calling?" She tucked a strand of silvering hair behind her ear as gentle brown eyes studied the new arrival.

Marc couldn't help but smile at the woman before him, though he couldn't hide the flicker of surprise that crossed his face. She carried herself with the quiet familiarity of family, yet she wasn't Vulcan as he had expected.

The relentless Broken Hill heat pressed down like a living thing, the dry Australian air shimmering along the horizon. Even standing in the shade of a tree offered little relief from the furnace-like afternoon, and the scent of sun-baked earth lingered on every faint breeze.

Straightening slightly, Marc offered a polite nod.

"Captain Marc Steyn," he introduced himself. "If it's at all possible, I'd like to discuss a career opportunity with Doctor Syvar."

"Of course captain," the woman smiled, "please come with me." She led him towards the barn where an older Human male and what might be a young Vulcan male just out of his teenage years were worked up in a sweat shearing the sheep. "Syvar, there is someone here to speak with you."

The Vulcan youth straightened and wiped sweaty blonde hair from his face. "Yes mother," he answered, then approached the Starfleet officer. "Sir, I am Syvar. You wished to speak with me?"

"Doctor, yes... Shall we walk?" Marc asked, keen to explore one of the few places on his homeworld that remained unfamiliar to him. Despite numerous postings across Australia over the years, fate had somehow never brought him to Broken Hill.

Together they left the modern 2367 homestead behind—a low, contemporary house with its shimmering pool and weathered barn—and followed a dusty track into the vastness of Broken Hill. The manicured grounds quickly gave way to red earth, scattered spinifex, hardy saltbush, and ancient, sun-bleached rock formations that stretched beneath an endless sapphire sky. It was a stark, unforgiving beauty, broken only by the occasional twisted gum tree and the distant silhouette of abandoned mine workings. Marc found the landscape captivating in its quiet severity. He could also understand why a Vulcan might find such a place comforting; there was something undeniably reminiscent of their own austere homeworld in the dry heat and rugged terrain.

For a time they walked in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunch of boots on the dusty trail and the warm breeze whispering through the sparse vegetation. Eventually, Marc broke the silence.

"Firstly, I wanted to thank you for your help after the Battle of Wolf 359. You may not remember me—I know you had far more pressing concerns at the time. Your ship pulled me from what remained of the USS Roosevelt. I may not have conducted myself with the decorum you deserved under those circumstances, so I'd like to apologise for that as well."

"I do what I can," Syvar answered modestly, "I am a doctor, therefore it's my duty to help where I'm needed." He smiled encouragingly at the man. "You were under a lot of stress captain, I'm sure you can be excused any lack of decorum. No apologies are necessary, but I doubt you travelled all this way to the outback to tell me this?" His expressive green eyes settled on the man.

"You would be correct."

Marc paused, slipping off his sunglasses so he could meet the young Vulcan's gaze directly. He had accepted, with quiet curiosity, that the man standing before him seemed remarkably attuned to his emotions—a rarity among Vulcans. The blond hair was another clue that he was far from ordinary, but Marc hadn't come here to speculate about the young man's heritage.

He was here for something far more important.

"I'm here to offer you a job." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Starfleet has assigned me to command the USS Genesis. She launches in just under a month, and I'm looking to fill a handful of key senior officer positions."

He let the words settle before continuing.

"It would mean leaving the Majestic, but this is a high-profile assignment. We'll be exploring the fringes of Federation space—charting the unknown, making first contacts, and going where Starfleet needs us most."

Marc held the Vulcan's gaze, his expression calm but expectant.

"So... would you be interested?"

Green eyes sparkles brightly in excitement over the offer, but he did feel the weight of it. He was far too inexperienced to be chief but how could he say no to such an opportunity?

"You should take it." Syvar turned to see his Human father walk up to them. The man has come out to see what was taking them so long out in the heat. A proud smile touched the man's features as he approached them. "You can do this son, the captain wouldn't be here to ask you otherwise. Right captain?"

"Exactly. With the losses we sustained at Wolf 359, we need our most experienced officers leading the missions that matter most. Your current captain has already given the transfer the green light. All we need now is your consent, because ultimately, this is your decision."

Silence settled over the three men. The captain's expression remained unreadable as he allowed the weight of the offer to sink in. He waited patiently, giving the officer as much time as he needed to consider his answer, though privately he hoped the decision wouldn't take too long. The Australian sun was beginning to make Marc sweat, leaving his underarms uncomfortably damp despite his best efforts to remain composed.

Debating his options, and knowing he was far from experienced enough to even be chief, Syvar finally nodded. "I'll take your offer," he said softly, "and you're not doing too well in this heat. Perhaps we should move inside?"

"I wish I could stay!" Marc said, though he didn't mean it; the relentless heat was winning the battle. "But I have several other meetings to get to." He offered a respectful smile, genuinely grateful that another of his senior officers had agreed to join him.

His next stop was Earth Spacedock to meet with his science officer, but first he had to escape Broken Hill's oppressive climate. The thought of stepping back into the shuttlecraft's cool, climate-controlled cabin—and, more importantly, using its replicator to produce an ice-cold lemonade—was becoming increasingly appealing.

"We still have some time before Genesis will be ready, so there's no rush to report aboard just yet."

Syvar nodded in understanding, his expression turning into concern as he watched his new captain. "Understood," he answered simply.

With that, Marc bid his farewells, almost certain that the Vulcan and his family could see straight through the polite façade he had been maintaining. Despite his courteous departure, his true objective was far simpler: to find somewhere considerably colder where he could finally cool off.

END

RSS Feed