“Nice and easy, West Wing.” Lieutenant Falcon Llewellyn spoke quietly to his team. Two days had passed since the second attack on Montana Station by the Vaadwaur. The station wings had taken some damage, and four of their pilots had had to eject under heavy fire. They were transported quickly to the hospital wing and secured in intensive care. It had been a harrowing thirty seconds waiting for the confirmation of their rescue.

Silence had resumed into the next day. Falcon had wondered what the damn Vaadwaur were up to and so had most of the senior command. Zephyr’s fighters had been ordered to investigate quietly and carefully into the blackout. They had worked on the Valkyrie class fighters to strip them of any long-range detection chance. Director Miados on Montana had put her best and brightest engineers on addressing the short-range issues. They’d even worked on painting the starfighters a deeper shade to keep them as invisible as possible.

Falcon ordered, “Let’s see what we can see.” The eight fighters pushed into The Blackout zone with passive sensors searching the space ahead. There were several large colonies in the spinward area of space. “All wings, make for the Bunden System.”

Several hours later, they slid into the system on the far edge of an asteroid field, bobbing and weaving. Ensign Fox Diseth was a science officer in his regular duties and reported what he could see. “Reading a pretty good-sized fleet of Vaadwaur near Bunden II…they haven’t detected us yet.”

Falcon was thankful that Miados had rigged the fighters with short-range radios to be used once they’d come into the blackout. It wasn’t going to do anything for them trying to reach Montana Station, but it would serve to keep them in touch while trying to avoid being gunned down by the Vaadwaur. “Roger. Get me an estimate of a number. West 8 – what do you see at Bunden III?”

He watched as Ensign Aisha Lavigne’s fighter slipped through the asteroids, angling toward the other colony. Between the two colonies, there were 1,750 souls under siege by the Vaadwaur. There were other colonies to be investigated and evaluated. He’d felt his stomach drop looking at the list. The Tergenas System was one of them. Fifteen thousand people called the main planet home. They, at least, had strong defense systems in place. He grimaced as he wondered how they’d stack up against Vaadwaur forces. Intel had come in yesterday from Fouth Fleet, and it hadn’t been encouraging. There were confirmed reports of boarding and landing teams being used in tandem with the invading starships.

“Wing 8 – Bunden III is…is gone.” Falcon turned to look at the planet. Her voice was unusually quiet as she spoke.

He didn’t understand her meaning at first. “What do you mean…oh, shit.”

Lavingne muttered over the open mic, “Yea. Shit.” Her brief drop in focus rebounded as she finished her report. “Passive sensors are showing a large crater where the colony once stood. Visual intel shows it’s still smoking.” He could hear her swallow hard as she spoke. These kids were just that – kids. They’d been spared the Frontier Day madness for various reasons. Now, death stared at them from a hole clawed deep by the Vaadwaur.  Taunted them.  It would haunt all of them, he knew.

He replied, “Roger, West 8. Circle back to us.” There was a click in his ear.

Fox Dieseth reported, “West 2 – Bunden II is intact but surrounded by 30 fighters, 5 Manasa-class and 1 Astika-class. Reading some damage to the colony, I’d have to get closer to determine details.” Falcon could hear the broken awe in his voice. Seven hundred fifty colonists had called Bunden III home. The number weighed on Falcon, and he knew the rest of his wing now carried that weight. Damn the Vaadwaur. Damn then all.

He stared through the asteroids, wondering what chance Montana and Zephyr had against this force. The rumors about more Vaadwaur in other sectors had started quickly after the first attack. He wondered if they were foolish enough to take a run at the Tholian Assembly. Tholian weapons were dangerous to Starfleet ships. How would the Vaadwaur fair?

Ensign Micah Machesky’s voice came on the channel, “West 5 – I’m picking up a signal from…it looks like one of the moons on the system’s edge.” The sound of his fingers tapping at the console filled the air. “It’s an old system…working to sort it out.” Falcon had chosen the young man for his communications prowess. There had been complaints that Micah wasn’t as good on the starfighter controls as the others. Those complaints hadn’t come from the wing. It had all come from Captain Burton, the director of communications on the station. Falcon smiled to himself – Burton was a possessive command officer.

“West 5 – it’s…unbelievable. It’s Morse code. Tracks to a good-sized moon. The message is ‘Colony survivors, come to the Arthur Moon. We will find a way to fight back.'” There was an audible sigh. “There’s some still alive.”

Falcon adjusted his map to locate the moon in question. It was at the far end of the asteroid field, surrounded by its asteroid belt. “Set a course – nice and slow. Let’s see who’s smart enough to pull Morse code out of the history books.”

“You found us!” The gathering of teenagers rushed the arriving starfighter crew and surrounded them with hugs and faces full of fear.

Falcon stared at the gathered group and held up his hand, and the 100 or so children quieted down. “Lieutenant Falcon Llewellyn, West Wing from the Federation Starship, USS Zephyr. Why are you all…here?”

What looked like the oldest of them pushed forward and extended her hand. “Gracie Lothan.” Falcon shook her hand, and she gestured to the group, “We were here on a field trip for the day. It’s an old listening station from the start of the colony.” Her eyes searched the gathered crew. “We thought a rescue would come with a bigger ship.”

Falcon turned to his pilots. “Take the kids into the station, will you? Find out a sit rep – any information you can.” He waited until the others were out of earshot and into the station. “How much do you know?”

Lothan shook head head, “Too much. I know Bunden III is gone. They don’t. Some of them came from there.” She closed her eyes. “My grandparents settled there six months ago to help stabilize the government. I know they’re dead. I’m just not thinking about it.” Her eyes opened, shining with feeling. “I’m the oldest – 18. We landed here in the morning, and the transport ship left, saying they’d be back in eight hours.” She paused and glanced around at the small shuttle bay. “They didn’t make it back.” She turned back to Falcon. “I was able to power up the systems on the station and put the sensors to limited use. Training to be an engineer out here seemed like a good idea to my parents.” Her eyes threatened to overflow, but she pushed it down, wiping away the forming tears. “We kept our signals and systems down to avoid detection. It’s been hard…especially for the younger kids.”

The wing commander looked her in the eyes, “Grace Lothan, you’ve given these kids a fighting chance at survival.” He asked, “Food supplies?”

Her eyes cleared as she focused on the here and now. “Two weeks. We calculated it last night. There’s a replicator in the cafeteria and lots of old office spaces where we’ve been sleeping. Finding showers was this morning’s good news.” She made a face. “Some of us were starting to stink.”

Falcon chuckled, “That’s a reference I understood, Ms. Lothan. Show me the operations center…let’s see if we can’t try and improve our chance of survival.”

She started to lead him but stopped. “I’m responsible for all of them, Mr. Llewellyn. I won’t leave them, even for a moment. You can take anybody home…but I go last.” She glanced at the floor, her feelings overwhelming her. “If we get out of here.”

Falcon walked and stood beside her. “Ms. Lothan, we’re getting out of here. What that looks like…well, that’s tomorrow’s business. Let’s tackle today’s trouble, shall we?” She replied with a nod and led him down the hallway. He’d made a promise.

And he intended to keep it.