The chirping sound from the main control hub of the border monitoring station brought Gabrielle Nwadike from her office, heart in her throat. It was the normal alert sound, simply notifying this orbital platform hanging over the Izar colony that a ship had dropped out of warp at the system’s periphery. In mere seconds, the automated system would check the ship’s registry and ID and catalogue it for traffic records. This happened daily, hourly – several times an hour.

And for the past month, those seconds had felt like lifetimes as Gabrielle stood in the door and waited for the system to confirm the new arrival wasn’t a Dominion ship.

‘We got a Starfleet signature,’ rumbled Stroven, her Tellarite colleague. Though he sounded gruff and matter-of-fact, she knew the glance in her direction was about more than reassuring her. Saying it out loud made it real. Saying it out loud reassured him. ‘USS Caliburn, NCC-82902, Sagan-class.’

‘Sagan-class? That’s a big one.’ Her heart rate was just about slowing to normal levels as she advanced. ‘There’s no way they’re here to repair the deep space sensor array.’

As if prompted, the comms system chirruped, the display flashing up to announce the hail from the Caliburn. Stroven and Gabrielle both stood motionless for a beat til they realised they were waiting for someone to pick up. Eyes fell on the empty chair where once young Heiliger had sat.

But the Dominion had killed Heiliger, dragged him out of his apartment early in the morning for being part of the resistance, and shot him in the street. Gabrielle had told him to keep his head down, be careful.

I have to try, Heiliger had said. I’m a comms specialist, I can get word out, tell Starfleet the lay of the land down here. I get it, Boss, you’ve got a family. But I gotta try.

He’d tried. He’d died. And even as their little station’s responsibility had grown, they still hadn’t replaced young Heiliger.

Gabrielle advanced to hit a button and put the call through. ‘USS Caliburn, this is Monitoring Station Alpha. Welcome to Izar.’

The expansion of their monitoring station had been cobbled together from the wreckage of the other orbital platforms. These days, they spent days up here at a time because the orbital lift had been destroyed. That one was Starfleet’s doing, and it meant that instead of putting in a day’s work and going home, Gabrielle needed to rely on a shuttle heading for the surface or had to sleep in a cot in the office. They needed maintenance work, new components, and she was desperately craving real coffee.

The bridge of the Caliburn, however, gleamed as it appeared on the main display. A tall officer who fit his uniform very well stood before a command seat, master of his domain. ‘Monitoring Station Alpha, this is Captain Kehinde Hargreaves of the starship Caliburn. Thank you for the welcome.’

‘What’s your business?’ It wasn’t that she meant to be rude. But rolling out the red carpet took an effort Gabrielle couldn’t summon.

Hargreaves hesitated. ‘We have a resupply for you. Material for the industrial replicators.’

‘Material won’t help if they’re still running at two-thirds capacity.’

‘I wasn’t aware there were issues with the replicators.’

‘There aren’t issues with the replicators. There are issues with the power grid. You here to fix that?’

Hargreaves glanced off-screen. ‘Our orders are for a resupply mission, then to head for the border, Izar.’

‘Oh. More Dominion?’ She tried to keep her voice light, but felt a flutter in her gut at the mere facetious idea.

‘No, no.’ He gave a small laugh he probably thought was reassuring. ‘We’re going beyond the border. Starfleet is committed to investing in the sector as a launching ground for exploratory missions.’

That was good news. Gabrielle knew it was good news. If Starfleet wanted to send ships through Deneb, if they wanted to make more use of Farpoint and SB514, they’d need to supply stations and vessels from worlds of the sector. They’d need defensive and economic infrastructure. They’d need to stop ignoring Deneb like they had for twenty years.

Like the had since the Dominion arrived.

Instead, Gabrielle said, ‘Is Starfleet committed to making my shower work reliably?’

Hargreaves raised his hands. ‘We’ll see what we can do. And I’ll be sure to run this up the chain. We’re not going to leave you with your needs unmet, Izar. Now, permission to enter orbit?’

Gabrielle glanced at Stroven and gave a brisk nod. ‘Permission granted, Caliburn. Transmitting traffic pattern entry route now. Please enjoy your stay. Monitoring Station Alpha out.’

Her smile did not reach her eyes, and it did not look like Hargreaves believed her. But she cut the transmission before he could reply, and the little control hub looked darker and dingier without the image of Starfleet on the display.

‘Back off to explore,’ she sighed, blowing out her cheeks. ‘Alright for some.’

‘At least they’re here,’ Stroven pointed out. ‘This could be good.’

‘It is good.’ She wanted to be sincere, but saying it didn’t make it real this time. With a sound of frustration, Gabrielle headed for the main sensor controls. ‘Let’s do another scanning sweep. We didn’t see the Caliburn coming in; that bugs me.’

‘Gabby…’ Stroven leaned across his console. ‘You know they’re not coming back.’

‘I know,’ Gabrielle lied. ‘Just… let’s see what’s out there.’