Streaking stars slid to a halt as the ever-graceful Hathaway slipped out of her warp drive slipstream and returned to the safety of normal space, gradually coming to a standstill in the vast openness. To the naked eye, the mighty Sagan-class ship may have appeared abandoned, offline. Very few lights were on, systems were offline, and the engines were dark.

Exactly the way the Captain needed things to be.

Like the rest of the ship, the bridge was operating under red alert, with emergency lighting and the LCARS panels the only source of brightness for the crew to operate by.

“We’re in position Captain,” Giarvar tapped at the control panel attached to his chair, “all teams are on standby.”

“Akaria, system analysis?”

With their ship so far from the target previously, the use of long-range sensors while hiding was nearly impossible, but given they were now relatively close, and the slave ship off doing its thing, the scientist was pleased to be able to do her thing with impunity.

“Dozens of ships operating in and around the planet,” the Risian revealed, her face lit up by the LCARS panel in front of her. “Largest vessel is equivalent to an Intrepid-class in size, and probably armaments.” Oh, what a joy it was to have her sensors back to their fullest. “Our vessel has moved into position above the northernmost continent and is holding position,” she looked towards the command pit.

That was their cue. Reaching down to the arm of his chair, a press of a button opened a channel. “Bridge to Hangar Deck. Deploy starfighters,” he called out.

“Affirmative bridge,” a voice from the depths of the ship, “mission is a go.”

Several decks down, the Runabout Achenar sat motionless in the upper shuttlebay, her command crew listening intently to communications and reports from the bridge. An open channel ensured the away team was clued into what was going on elsewhere so that when the time came, they could launch their part of the mission.

In the forwardmost seats of the cockpit, mission leader Commander Noli sat beside Ensign Udraa at the CONN. Behind them, Lieutenants Tuca and Kiras occupied the other seats in the room. In the aft compartment, security officers Chief Petty Officer Uzair, Petty Officer Findlay Sharp, Ensign Ho and Petty Officer Esme Salazar and Crewman Sykes awaited their turn. As per orders, all were dressed in attire customary for their species, including Kiras in bright colours and Tuca in a rather dowdy brown suit.

“Hound Four in position.”

“Hound Two closing in.”

Listening in to the reports of the fighter squadron moving into their assigned positions caused the Commander to look over her shoulder at her team. “Alright people, we’ll be up shortly. Conceal all tricorders, communicators and weapons,” she instructed her team, just in time for the launch code to be received.

Their away mission was a go.

Journeying to the nearby planet was easy, Udaar simply avoiding traffic where needed and moving into the holding pattern when requested by the brusque voice that filled their cockpit a short while later. There hadn’t been so much as a challenge to their identity or their reasoning for visiting the planet, so it appeared that, for now at least, everything was proceeding as planned. Whilst the first wave of transports to the surface began, those left behind on Hathaway began to feel the inevitable sense of worry. A number of their colleagues were in a dangerous position, and the ship was out of position to render anything but scant assistance.

Leaning against the command console at the heart of Cargo Bay Two, Commander Kauhn fiddled with the phaser attached to his waist, staring absentmindedly at the floor. His mind had long since drifted, worrying less about himself and the venture his team had been tasked with, and more about what was awaiting the team already in the market world.

“Are you and your teams all set, Commander?” the familiarly gruff voice of Captain Gor dragged the Trill from his dazed state and back into the reality of the cargo bay.

“Sorry, what?” the XO stood upright and shook his head a little, “Yes. The teams are ready to go. Noli and I opted to use the cargo bay transporters for ease of mass transport. We want to get the security teams down in one go to make the most of the element of surprise,” he advised the Captain, but the look on the man’s face suggested he was looking for permission rather than telling the Captain what he was going to do.

“How long have you been a first officer now, Commander?” the Captain quizzed, folding his arms as he lent against the console his subordinate had used for support.

“A year now,” Giarvar smiled sheepishly, “nine months on Intrepid and nearly three here.”

“The best advice someone once gave me was that it is better, and often easier, to ask for forgiveness rather than permission,” the Tellarite smirked, looking up at the Trill who moved and perched beside him. “Do the right thing for your people, whether or not they know it. That way you can help the people that you work for in the best possible way. You are the executive officer of this ship, and unless stated otherwise, you have the discretion to run away missions and handle personnel matters in any way you feel necessary. I don’t need to know the minutiae of your decision-making; if I did, you wouldn’t be wearing that uniform or those insignia pips. You’re here because I know you are capable of being a damn fine XO. Just do your thing.”

This was the most real conversation the two had shared since Gor had come aboard, and they had shared many conversations in that time, but this was the first time the Captain had made him feel trusted enough to do his job without oversight.

“I will bear that in mind,” the Trill smiled, nodding in thanks to his superior. Together, for the time being, they simply stood with their security team.

All they could do was watch, and wait.