Forming a fragile defensive line high above the planet’s atmosphere, Hypatia had been joined by her Starfleet compatriots thanks to the luxury of their advanced impulse drives, leaving the Draxan fleet far behind. Far, but still drawing in and showing no sign of relenting in their pursuit of the Starfleet vessels. Whilst her colleagues had pushed for their ships to rendezvous sooner rather than later, Noli had been able to task her crew with transmitting data files and communications on all known channels in an attempt to reach the Draxans and convince them that the Nihari were no threat in the current day and age. So far, radio silence.

Even in the red of command, Noli’s tactical training came into play as she paced the bridge, eyes still trained on the main viewer. It didn’t take a strategist to figure out that the odds were not in the favour of Starfleet on this one. Even with their advanced weapons systems, sheer numbers would surely prevail, and with an engineer in command rather than a tactician, the plan wasn’t something she would have suggested. Gor had positioned the squadron in a simple formation with the Sutherland-class cruiser flanked by the more tactically sound starships, which was a sound, defensive tactic and very much out of the Defence 1-0-1 playbook. He’d earned the right to command, but in this situation, perhaps he should have deferred to someone with more tactical experience? If the roles were reversed and she’d been on Al-Batani, they’d be doing something very different right now. They had advantages in the system they could have used, such as the asteroid belt that could have levelled the playing field, or perhaps even the strange atmospheric conditions of the planet itself. She was in no position to overrule the Tellarite, though. Starfleet regulations had put him in command of a tactical situation – he had the heavy cruiser under his command, of course- and so she would defer to him until she felt she had no other choice.

But it seemed like that moment might come sooner rather than later as the Draxan force suddenly shifted positions; two ships to distract each of the vessels on the flank whilst the remaining vessels seemed to be planning a run on the most vulnerable of the trio.

Over the din of the preparations for battle, the bridge missed the announcement from Lieutenant Orax the first time, but when he spoke the second time, everyone heard his words loud and clear.

“There’s another starship coming in,” he barked, “its Wasp.”

Space re-resolved from blurs to stars as a lightly singed Defiant-class escort spun down to sublight, a scant few kilometers astern of the force. The sensor picture didn’t paint a very pleasing picture. Song already found herself gritting her teeth again, only conscious effort stopping her from breaking her own jaw out of anxiety.

“Rest of the squadron’s here… and so are the Draxans,” Az announced, his own expression equally grim. “Nobody’s trading blows yet, but it looks like the Draxans are spoiling for a fight. Orders?”

“Red alert, shields up, load torpedoes and start calculating firing solutions,” Song replied, eyes fixated on the ships off Wasp‘s bow as the little escort grew closer, eventually coming to a stop just astern and above Hypatia.

Truth be told, the Draxans were only seventy-five percent of why she was so tense, and Song had a sinking feeling they’d be facing the other 25 in a moment. “Rain, open a comm channel to Hypatia.”

“Guess it’s time to face the music…” the hybrid murmured under her breath, console beeping under her fingers.

“Only if we live to see this through,” she replied, though whether it was supposed to be with resignation or bravado was anyone’s guess. It sounded more flat than anything else. “On the big screen, if you’d please.”

Appearing on the main viewer, a relieved yet anxious looking Captain Noli shook her head slowly. “Right on time. Where the hell have you been?!” she inquired.

Everyone on the bridge couldn’t help but cringe just slightly at the admonishment, Song’s lips settling into a grim line. “Responding to a distress call, ma’am,” she responded, steeling her nerves like Noli was an onrushing bull instead of a disappointed superior officer. “Civilian transport filled with refugees- Draxans were swarming the thing. Mok’tal is staying behind to cover them while they get FTL back up and running.”

”Better late than never,” the Bajoran winked, looking off screen for a second before back to her young counterpart. “We need to show the Draxans we mean business. I want you to pick their biggest ship and train every single weapon you have on their warp core. Gor is playing things too safe and Hypatia’s caught in the middle. You’re my defensive screen now,” Noli instructed.

Song paused, blinked in surprise. A glance over at Az, met with similar confusion. They were just… being let off the hook like that? She’d expected more pushback for splitting off, but the senior officer… just winked. Maybe they’d avoid a reprimand for this after all…

And then Noli finished, and the little ship snapped back to life like a movie unpaused. “We’re on it,” Song confirmed, even as the tones of Az hard at work at the tactical console filled the silence. “Az-”

“Tubes one and two loaded, warheads live. Phaser cannons ramped up to full power, dorsal array one locked. Safeties off, finger’s on the trigger, skip.”

Wasp once more made that almost pleasant little rumble as power coursed through the little ship’s power couplings. Every sensor that had a bead on the diminutive escort, if Song had to wager a bet, probably felt like it was looking straight at a small star. Her gaze finally rose from the tactical station and back to the screen, corners of her mouth straining to twitch upwards. “Standing by, Captain.”

“Excellent work Captain,” Noli smiled at her young colleague and then terminated the communications channel.

Leaning across the void between their chairs, Prenar remained locked on the viewscreen whilst hushing his words. “You really think that will work?” he quizzed of the Captain.

”We’re about to find out,” the Bajoran shrugged, then planted her foot so she could turn in the direction of the tactical wall.

”Lieutenant Nes,” she called, “send the Draxans a new transmission. Advise them to recalculate the odds of victory with Wasp now with us. Inform them we have our most powerful warship focused on the warp core of their largest vessel, and I’m fully prepared to unleash every weapon at her disposal unless they back off and agree to leave the system indefinitely.”

Grinning his toothy smile, the Nausicaan nodded dutifully and sent the transmission to everyone listening; Al-Batani, Cardenas, Wasp and Draxans alike. Everyone heard Noli’s grandstanding. Or was it a bold power play?

Seconds later, the Bajoran had her answer. The silence that had responded to all her previous transmissions turned to a brief static reaction. A sudden crackling preceded a menacing voice. A voice with a warning.

”Your interference will not be tolerated for ever, Starfleet. We will be watching… and waiting.”

In that moment, the Draxan cruisers began their crawl, the frigates turning on their axis and fleeing at speed. For now, it seemed this crisis was over.

The faux star that had been Wasp‘s power reading slowly dropped back to normal levels. Song finally let her fingers unclench, a heavy breath rushing from her lungs, back sinking into her chair. Not an eye left the screen as the Draxan contacts turned about and ran. Only once Az made the announcement- “All Draxan vessels have left the system, Captain,”- did the tension finally fade.

Out of nowhere, on the bridge of every starship in the squadron, the holographic form of the High Arbiter shimmered into existence.

”On behalf of this One’s people, appreciations and salutations to the Federations. Darkness has dimmed and a path ahead opened. Bonds to be formed? Yes. To the Expanse, this One welcomes you…”