On the screen, the back of someone's head could be seen, partially obscuring the starscape toward which it was slowly moving. It turned slightly and appeared to engage someone in silent conversation, laughing at an unheard joke.

This continued for a few moments, until the head and its owner lurched sideways and off the screen, thrown down by an unseen force. A severed photon drive flew toward the stars. Red lights began to flash, and an audio channel opened, broadcasting Allied Standard Emergency Message 004, "Abandon ship."

The head reappeared and another audio channel opened, overriding the first. It was Captain Endyan, the commander of the ASV Temporos. He was an older man, a bit round and a bit balding, and he was clearly agitated. "Williams, what's going on back there? What just happened? If-" His voice suddenly cut out as he fell back out of view. The stars shuddered and started moving upwards, and gradually, the remains of the ship came into view.

The Temporos was in pieces. Her back end was entirely destroyed, and the pieces of the remaining photon drive were slowly drifting away. Much of the debris was too small to be identifiable, save for a few chunks of wall.

Captain Endyan re-opened the audio channel, his voice solemn as he made his report. "Official transmission to Allied Command: The Allied Science Vessel Temporos, ID code ASV-94261, has been destroyed, cause currently unknown. Current confirmed survivor count: 3. Assistance requested." The channel closed, and the starscape continued to drift. After a moment, it stopped, and the word "Replay" appeared, along with a circular arrow.

Captain Endyan stared at it for a moment, then turned to his Communications Officer, Andrea Lerram. She had graduated from the Alliance Crew Education program near the top of her class six years ago and had since shown herself to be very good at her job. She wasn't afraid to show it, either- she looked very young, more like a teenager than an Officer, and people who didn't know her tended to patronize her at first.

"So? Someone simulated the ship's destruction and transmitted it to us. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal, sir, is that it's got all the official encoding, and it was supposedly sent from Shuttle B at coordinates approximately twenty navigational units away."

"Hold on. Shuttle B is parked downstairs. Williams is just about done repairs, isn't he?"

"Exactly. I checked, and he's scheduled to be done tomorrow afternoon."

"So how could Shuttle B transmit this from twenty navs away if it's been being repaired for the last few weeks?"

"Well, according to the official timestamp on the transmission, it was sent three weeks from now."

"You're telling me it hasn't been sent yet?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Is the Allied encoding all there? All of the official codes and watermarks?"

"I ran it through authentication twice, and it checked out. According to the computer, this is an official transmission that was sent negative three weeks ago."

"Hmph. Looks like forgery has caught up with Allied encoding. I'll send a message to Command and let them know."

"Should I run a check of all TV sims to see if anyone aboard made this?"

"Don't bother. If someone went to all the trouble to encode it to look authentic, then they'll have had the sense to erase their sim records."

"Okay. I'll let you know if any more show up."

"Do that. I'm going to go talk to Vince and see just where this was supposedly sent from." He strode away, heading towards the open door at the back of the command deck, his mind racing. Just what did that video mean? Was some forgery artist somewhere mocking them, or was it a threat of actions to come? He sighed and walked toward the Observation Lounge. Vince would be there, as usual, and he would be able to help solve this puzzle.

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