The Veridian Expanse made itself known to Engineering long before it ever appeared on the viewscreen.

The Merrimack’s engines sang differently here—an uneven undertone beneath the familiar warp hum, like a string drawn just a fraction too tight. Plasma conduits along the port side glowed brighter than their starboard twins, LCARS-precursor displays wavering in slow, irregular pulses. The deck plates thrummed beneath M’Mera’s paws—not violently, but insistently—an animal discomfort rather than a failure.

She stood at the center of Main Engineering, golden eyes tracking every fluctuation as the Expanse pressed against the ship.

“Hrrrm… hold that field ssstable,” she rumbled, claws adjusting the warp-field governor by hand. “The Expansse iss tugging at uss. Not enough to harrm —but enough to feel.”

NE engineers moved around her in tight coordination. One compensated antimatter flow to counter magnetic shear. Another rerouted secondary power through the dorsal EPS grid as distant magnetar fields brushed the hull. Consoles chimed and hissed; coolant cycled; the warp core answered with a deep, steady heartbeat.

The Merrimack reacted like an old, stubborn creature—flexing, creaking, but holding.

As M’Mera pressed a paw to the engineering rail, feeling the vibration shift, her thoughts flicked briefly to the Captain’s ready room only hours earlier.

You’re the best choice we have, the CO had told her, voice calm but firm. Starfleet’s assigning us a new Chief of Security. I need you here. Full-time. Chief Engineer.

It hadn’t been a demotion. It had been trust.

She’d accepted without hesitation—Security instincts folded neatly into engineering discipline. Protect the ship by keeping her alive.

“Eassy ,” M’Mera murmured now, more to the Merrimack than the crew. “I know… change iss neverr comforrtable .”

“Chief,” an engineer called, “harmonic feedback through the warp coils.”

M’Mera’ss ears angled forward. “Then dampen it. Rroute the excesss into inerrtial bufferrss and bleed the rresst into ssheildss. This sship wass built to pussh through sstormss.”

Her claws danced across the controls—precise, hands-on adjustments that suited the ship’s era. The warp core steadied, its glow evening as the Merrimack adapted, no longer resisting the Expanse but flowing with it.

The vibrations smoothed. The hum deepened—calmer, stronger.

M’Mera’s tail flicked once in quiet satisfaction.

“SShe trusstss uss,” she thought, eyes lifting to the core. “And I won’t fail herr .”

Around her, Engineering settled back into rhythm as ship and crew learned the Veridian Expanse together—pressing onward, steady and unbroken, toward the Rift.

Lt. M’Mera CE