Team Leader’s log, Stardate 240205.2.

While we secured supremacy of the expanse between the stars, the Vaadwaur weren’t idle. They’ve been hurting with the loss of the comms network we took out of their hands at Proxima. So they’ve been building their own relay, with their own technology, at the edge of Toliman.

Blackbird played our part. Recon’d the area. Too thick with defences for us to hit, so we scoped it out to let the rest of Sirius Squadron come in. The bulk of the Vaadwaur occyping forces of Toliman are near the core or the far side of the system. They’re still not great at going to warp inside a star’s gravitational pull, Aryn tells me. That means we’ve got a long, long time before they can reinforce the defenders of this damned comms relay.

There’s still lots of them. And only so many of us.

The bridge of the Blackbird pulsed with dim red light as alerts rippled across consoles and tactical markers danced on the main viewscreen. The sleek scout ship held its position in the upper atmosphere of the moon of Toliman XI, hanging behind the lines of engagement while, ahead and above them, space shuddered with fire.

‘Endeavour’s driving straight through the defensive screen,’ reported Falaris, eyes flitting across her console. ‘Smallcraft sweeping the flanks, while Tempest is shutting down incoming.’

To Cassidy’s right, Ranicus leaned over an operations console. ‘I’m reading power fluctuations in the relay station’s central array. Looks like their shields are wavering.’

Cassidy hadn’t sat since the first phaser volley of the day. It wasn’t that he wanted to take his scout ship into the fray of this, the largest direct engagement with Vaadwaur forces since the Battle of Proxima. But he didn’t enjoy waiting on the sidelines, either. ‘They’re cracking.’

‘Woah!’ Ensign Yang couldn’t hold back the outburst as new information flooded the main display. The central Astika class, the command cruiser that had sat back to drive the defenders of the comms relay’s construction, had taken a direct blast from Endeavour. An image flashed up on their viewscreen: its structure buckling, lights guttering, and half a second later, the aft erupted in a blossom of white flame.

Jakorr sucked his teeth. ‘No way that thing’s staying in orbit.’

‘She’s dropping,’ Falaris confirmed a beat later. ‘The atmospheric dampening of the moon’s climate-control network should actually stop her from breaking up too badly on the descent.’ Quick button-presses brought up new data feeds and maps. ‘Trajectory puts her down in sector six – eastern quadrant of the northern desert. One of the, ah, luxury terraformed regions.’

‘Luxury regions?’ echoed Yang incredulously.

‘This isn’t any moon,’ mused Rosewood in a wry, sing-song voice from the aft. ‘This is Threshold. The luxury resort of the system’s edge. A dozen biomes from terraforming and the climate and weather network to suit all possible tourism needs. And that thing’s landing right on the system’s best dune-buggy venue.’

‘They can die in the sun,’ grunted Cassidy. ‘Monitor possible escape pods or shuttles – make sure no more trouble’s going to -’

‘Priority orders coming in,’ Falaris interrupted almost apologetically. ‘Endeavour.’

The visuals didn’t change, but Captain Valance’s voice came through audio, crisp even under fire. ‘Blackbird, this is Endeavour. Intel says that command cruiser’s databanks, if they’re intact, should have critical information. Can your team get to the wreckage once that thing hits the ground?’

Cassidy straightened. The tension in his chest was not apprehension, but the certainty of a fresh duty settling in. ‘We can. Can you watch our asses so we have somewhere to escape to?’

‘We can mop up here and hold off any of the front-runners of reinforcements. They’ll have to go through us to get to you.’

‘Then you’ll have your intel. Blackbird out.’ Cassidy looked as data flooded in on the screen, the estimation of what they could secure from the cruiser and where they might find it. He clicked his tongue. ‘We can do that.’

‘Can’t beam down to Threshold,’ Rosewood warned. ‘Consequences of messing with an atmosphere enough to turn an outer moon into a pleasure resort.’

‘Then we set down,’ said Cassidy simply. ‘Far enough away so none of their surviving guns, if any, can paint us. Drive in on the Nomad.’

‘Falaris!’ called Ranicus at once. ‘Start mapping the descent path. Yang, chart a safe LZ as close as we can. I want our window tight and our exfiltration clean.’

Cassidy had already keyed the comms to the rest of the team. ‘Rooks, gear up,’ he snapped. ‘We’re gonna get sand in our boots.’

Across the viewscreen behind him, the light from the falling cruiser shuddered and danced into the upper atmosphere of Threshold, dragging wreckage and flame in its wake as it tumbled towards the desert below.