I've decided on naming this 'The Shadows', as the main jist of it is about the threat you cannot see. I'll let you be the judge though as the story gets going.

The Shadows

1 – Interlude.

Dean Quinn leaned idly on the steel rail acting as a partition between the raised section of the Command Deck and the main expanse of the large room. The raised section housed the Command Chair and the first and second officer’s seats, as well as the communications console and several other terminals. Stretched out below him was the tactical space, compromising of a simple logistics and holographic projection table surrounded by a wide space of decking and then a dozen or so more consoles and computers. The entire layout of the Command Deck yelled mid twenty fifties, back from the early deep space fleet designs. The metal decking under Quinn’s boots was grid work, exposing the pipelines and cabling running back and forth beneath and the walls and rails were all the same dull grey metal, dented and blackened over time.
At the head of the Command Deck, right opposite from Quinn, was the main screen, or ‘windscreen’ as the crew called it; A large expanse of glass curving across the entire front wall of the Bridge.
Over the main entrance, a strip of black and yellow caution tape had been plastered across from one side of the set of double doors to the other and an array of red, amber and green lights had been positioned above that to show ship status, making the place look like a loading bay. This particular twenty fifties design could be found throughout the entire infrastructure of the UEN Harpoon; because that’s how old she was. The Harpoon was the third TMAF (Tactical Multirole Assault Frigate) to be developed by the human race during the first steps out into deep space.
That made her almost fifty years old, almost as old as her Captain, Quinn thought as he leaned casually on the rail, observing his crewmembers like some Godlike overlord. In truth Dean Quinn was quite the opposite of that; kind, fun to be around and one of the most well respected Captains throughout the United Earth Navy. At sixty five, Quinn was getting on in his career, thinking about retirement to his quaint country cottage in New England. Ever since his wife Sarah had died, he had refrained from visiting his home back on the planet Terminus, instead living on his beloved ship; the Harpoon.
He was roughly five feet eight eleven inches, with a strong broad physique and steely grey hair that had not receded one jot since it had first shown the hints of old age. His vivid blue eyes still sparkled with life, although more they were looking lonelier these days, as if longing for something only he could see deep within his mind’s eye.
Through the main view screen, the vast curvature of the planet Terminus could be seen slowly rotating around on its axis. The large type four planet, being the fourth planet in the solar system: Rigil Kentaurus, more commonly known as Alpha Centauri, was able to support human life and was the first world of Alpha Centauri to be colonized during the twenty sixties. Named Terminus thanks to its location in the solar system; being the furthest humanity may safely go within the boundaries of the mighty binary stars Alpha Centauri A and Alpha Centauri B. 
Down on the surface of the large planet, the intricate web of lights compromising the majority of the gargantuan human colony of New Eurasia glinted vaguely through the black of space.
The Harpoon was currently on a trajectory around the dark side of Terminus, heading into the majority of New Eurasia’s night period, towards Renshaw Station; a Shipyard set in a high geostationary orbit above the capital of humanity’s new home. So far the ship had been travelling for three months, escorting a freight group tagged Bishop, returning from the Barnard’s Star system one warp jump away.
Bishop one through six were leading the pack, with the UEN Darkstar at the head and the Harpoon bringing up the rear. Captain Quinn sighed as the sight of his beloved home filled the reinforced plexiglass window.
“Ensign, what’s our ETA to Renshaw Station?” he asked, turning away from the magnificent view ahead and looking down onto the main deck. One young man turned around in his revolving chair and addressed the Captain.
“Forty three minutes until arrival sir, and then another couple of hours whilst they log in Bishop Group.”
Quinn stood up right from his position against the rail and cracked his knuckles.
“Not long now people, you can all get some good R&R when we get to Renshaw.”
A series of light cheers and brief clapping filled the Command Deck at the Captain’s words, provoking a chuckle from Dean as he marvelled at their lack of enthusiasm. Shaking his head, he turned slowly back towards his chair and slumped down, enjoying the cool of the black leather through his grey United Earth Nations Captain’s uniform.
The communicator built into the arm of the large rotating command chair began to beep as an incoming message arrived for the Captain. Quinn pressed the receive switch.
“Quinn here.” He spoke, waiting for the message.
“Captain, a private message has come through for you from high command.” The voice of his communications officer crackled over the com unit. “Where do you want to take it?”
“Roger that Lieutenant, I’ll get it in my quarters.”
“Aye sir.”
Quinn pressed the end button and stood. “Maintain current speed, Jamieson you have the bridge, I won’t be long.”
With that he turned and headed for the main entrance behind his command chair. The double doors slid smoothly back into their births and the Captain stepped purposefully over the threshold and into the corridor behind.

The metal door bearing the golden crest of the UEN and the word H.A.R.P.O.O.N stencilled across it, retracted into the wall as the Captain entered the room. Quinn’s quarters were small and to the point; a single bunk along the far wall with two long compartments beneath for Quinn’s personal items. A single wardrobe door stood fixed into the wall, opening up into Quinn’s clothes space behind and a small corner desk littered with paper and pencils squatted in the corner to the immediate right of the entrance. The item Dean Quinn was after was the computer built into the wall next to the wardrobe on his right. It was a simple machine, capable of sending and receiving long distance transmissions and arranging face to face conversations if the people wishing to speak to each other were within telecommunication range.
Quinn stepped up to the machine and booted it up. The same crest as on the door appeared on the screen, framed by a light blue background. He navigated his way through the options menu until he came to his inbox. He opened the first message from General Ascher and walked across to clear up his desk as the message played. The image of the General on the screen flickered and distorted as the message played.
“Greetings Captain Quinn, it has been a while since our last meeting and I’m afraid it will be again.”
Quinn looked over his shoulder at the image of the General. No! Not another damn assignment, I’ve got plans!
“Something’s come up. I’m sure you’re familiar with the known criminal Hercules Canute and his ship of scumbag pirates. Well he’s been seen not far from the Wolf three five seven jump zone in Barnard’s Star and we need someone to track him down.”
Quinn groaned as he watched the General speak the inevitable.
“You’re a damn fine Captain, and you’ve got the only Assault Frigate capable of catching him from here. I need you to give chase, this man is armed and dangerous and has all ready proven he means business by destroying civilian outposts. He needs to be brought down.”
Quinn walked across the room and slumped down on his bed, his head in his hands.
“I realise this is unfortunate for you, I am aware of the fact that you’ve been out there for near on a year now Dean, but this is important and I wouldn’t have asked you if I could handle it another way. Your good Quinn and your crew respect you. I’m sorry I had to ask you this, but thanks, Ascher out.”
The console beeped to signify the end of the message. Quinn sighed and stood, walking over to the console. He closed the message and opened a channel with the Bridge.
“Davidson here,” The low tone of his First officer cracked over the speaker.
“John, when we get to Renshaw I want you to get this ship refuelled and reloaded with a compliment of heavy weapons.”
“Sir?” Davidson sounded confused.
“We’ve been given a new assignment John; just get the damn kit list sorted out.”
“Yes Captain.” Quinn cut the link and flopped back on to his bed. He bit his lip as he mentally composed the message to his wife.
He snorted at the thought of the General and sat up, returning to his console he began to type the message out.
Ascher, you son of a bitch! He thought bitterly as the apologetic message flickered out across the screen.

The UEN Harpoon glided silently through space towards Terminus, the six transports of Bishop Group forming the line of vessels heading for the Shipyard in orbit around the frontier world.
Armed with an array of deadly weaponry, the Harpoon, although retro in style, is the pinnacle of human technology. She backs the experience of the front lines during the first deep space human explorations and has been constantly improved over time with minor adjustments and additions.
The ship herself stretches on for precisely one kilometre in length and 450 metres in width. The dorsal side to the ship houses the rising Bridge tower as well as several other observatories and weapon mounts and her ventral side houses the main hangar bay, a wide berth in the vessel’s outer hull leading on for about 200 metres, along with several sensory arrays, the Shield Generator and the Warp Drive Generator. Her large, curving port and starboard sides are of a smooth creamy colour, with neat rows of windows, many of which lighted from inside. The two sections of the hull curve gracefully inwards to make the bow of the ship. Four torpedo tubes, two on each side, lay secured into the skin of the ship; much like those of old earth Submarines. Along the starboard side of the bow rests a large depiction of the UEN crest; an eagle rising over the planet earth with a golden rim, the words United Earth Nations written around the rim. The large words U.E.N. Harpoon sit next to the crest, identifying the vessel as a proud naval vessel belonging to humanity.
Towards the aft of the vessel lies the engine cluster. A selection of blaster nozzles build directly into the ships rear leave a large contrail of spent gasses through space as the mighty rockets propel the ship forward. Three main rocket nozzles sit in a row along the back of the ship, with four smaller nozzles; two below and two above, allowing for slower manoeuvring when out of Cruise speed.
Along the body of the ship, more, smaller manoeuvring jets can be seen dotted evenly around the surface of the mighty Assault Frigate, allowing the vessel to spin on her axis and move around quickly during a combat situation.
 Up ahead at the head of the convoy, the larger, slower Battlecruiser UEN Darkstar arrived at Renshaw Shipyard orbiting planet Terminus and began to shift around the station, awkwardly spinning around so that her entry points matched that of the base. Her Captain radioed through to the Harpoon to inform Captain Quinn that the head of the convoy had arrived and that the last freighter; Bishop six was scheduled to dock with the shipyard in roughly three hours time.
Captain Quinn didn’t know whether to feel relieve or desperate at this news as he walked onto the Bridge of his ship. He slumped in his command chair and produced his book, an old piece of writing called; the unbearable lightness of being written back in the early 21st century.
There was a long wait ahead and he would be damned if he was going to sit there and count the flashes on the communications unit.