Sat in her centre chair of the bridge of the Orion, Captain Mo’Lee Krabreii’s gaze drifted across her bridge’s subdued lighting as the nearby asteroid field gently passed on the main viewscreen. On her lap rested a PADD she’d been attempting to read for the better part of an hour; a Starfleet Corps of Engineers status update regarding upgrades to the squadron’s defensive grid.

Ordinarily, reports like this absorbed her focus easily. But not today. Her mind wandered. Restless rather than distracted. Every few minutes, her bright blue eyes flicked towards the tactical station, then to the helm. Too many of her pilots were out right now, deploying the mobile defence platforms that would reinforce their position in this sector. She trusted her people, of course. But old instincts died hard. She was a pilot herself and wanted to be out there helping out, getting the job done quickly.

She shifted slightly in her seat, her left cheek coming to rest on her curled knuckles as her elbow perched on the armrest. The movement was casual, unremarkable. Even after all her years in command, her upbringing and training reminded her to show calm and control. If she radiated confidence, her crew would mirror it. Especially in times like this, deep in the Delta Quadrant, far from home, where danger often came unannounced.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Andron Jines at the helm called, his young Rutian voice crisp, “the final group of shuttles and runabouts has just returned.”

Krabreii straightened slightly, a hint of relief smoothing her features. “Is that everyone back, Andron?”

Jines gave a curt nod. “Yes, ma’am. All fighters are in formation, and Commander Saval’s runabout has docked as well.”

“Excellent.” She exhaled softly. The last puzzle piece of their perimeter had slotted into place. “Mister Anderson,” she called over her shoulder, “inform the flagship that our section of the network is coming online.”

Lieutenant Brad Anderson’s hands moved smoothly over the tactical controls. His posture was easy, relaxed, as it often was when things ran smoothly. But seconds later, his shoulders stiffened, and an alert chime cut through the quiet hum of the bridge. “Captain, our segment of the early warning system has picked up something,” Anderson reported, a tight edge creeping into his voice.

Krabreii turned her full attention to him. “Define something, Brad.”

Anderson’s brow furrowed as he scrutinised the readouts. “I think it’s the formation of an underspace aperture. Small enough that standard sensors nearly missed it. I need confirmation.”

Before she could speak again, Kulucis had already left the science station and crossed to Anderson’s side. The Kantare officer moved with his usual swift precision, his hands flying across the tactical display. They had built a strong rapport over the last few months. Krabreii had noticed how Kulucis had taken Anderson under his wing recently, and the two had formed a strong bond, especially regarding sports tournaments on the ship. The two of them had become unbeatable. She appreciated that her crew were becoming closer and closer as colleagues. 

Kulucis studied the sensor data, his fingers brushing across the interface. His eyes narrowed, then he gave a sharp nod. “It’s an aperture, Captain. An extremely small one,  I would say the energy signature suggests they may have found a way to refine their aperture control to reduce detection. Clever. Risky too.”

Krabreii’s jaw tightened. “Red alert.” The bridge lights dimmed to a soft crimson, and the pulsating klaxon echoed faintly. Even as her officers moved to their stations with disciplined efficiency, the aft turbolift hissed open.

Commander Saval strode onto the bridge, the Vulcan first officer immaculate as always. His gaze swept the room quickly, taking in the alert status and the flickering tactical displays before settling on her with an arched brow.

“Do we have visitors, Captain?” he asked, his neutral tone edged with interest.

“Something like that, Commander,” Krabreii replied evenly. “We’ve got a party crasher.” She gestured toward the tactical readout that was now on display via the main viewer. The aperture’s faint signature flickered.

“An intruder,” Saval summarised calmly as he sat beside her.

Kulucis spoke from Anderson’s side, eyes still locked on his scans. “It’s a smaller Vaadwaur vessel.”

“Pythus-class fighter,” Anderson confirmed, his tone clipped. “It’s armed and seems to be taking an interest in the squadron, ma’am. Too bad they’re not aware that the Constellation will arrive soon with the other coalition ships.”

Krabreii’s mind clicked into gear, weighing options rapidly. One fighter. Probably a scout. Possibly advance reconnaissance ahead of something larger. Either way, it was an opportunity and she wasn’t going to wait to hear for clearance or permission from her superior to deal with the threat. 

“Cheryon, inform Commodore McCallister that we’re moving to intercept and request backup to stand by,” she ordered Lieutenant Bollwyn.

“Yes, Captain,” the operations officer responded crisply.

“Andron,” Saval added smoothly, “set an intercept course. Have four of our fighters accompany us.”

Krabreii rose from her chair, her gaze sharp. “We’re taking that fighter intact.” Her voice dropped slightly, directed toward Anderson and Kulucis. “Gentlemen, is your little surprise ready?”

The pair exchanged a brief look of satisfaction before Kulucis answered, “Yes, Captain.”

“Activate the buoys once the target is in range.”

The next few minutes unfolded with precision. As Anderson and Kulucis deployed their specially modified buoys, Krabreii allowed herself a flicker of admiration for their ingenuity. Using a bit of Hekaran ingenuity, their modified buoys would be used to help them deal with their enemy. The veteron beams lashed out, disrupting the Vaadwaur ship’s field coils. The aperture collapsed almost instantly as the fighter didn’t return to it. Seconds later, Orion’s fighters swooped in, expertly disabling the enemy craft’s sublight engines and weapons with pinpoint volleys.

“I’m detecting one lifeform aboard,” Kulucis reported. “Unconscious.”

“Beam the pilot directly to sickbay. Brad, send a security team to meet him and have Tomraf standing by.” A small smile tugged at Krabreii’s lips. “And someone inform Commodore McCallister we’ve secured a little trophy.”

She turned decisively to her first officer. “Saval, with me. Kulucis, you have the bridge.”

Without hesitation, Saval joined her as the turbolift doors slid open. Krabreii stepped inside.

“Sickbay,” she instructed. As the lift hummed to life, she allowed herself a breath. A Vaadwaur prisoner. 

Rare and valuable.

Sickbay’s cool, sterile lights reflected softly off the biobed’s metallic frame as Krabreii approached, flanked by Saval and two security officers. Doctor Tomraf stood beside the bed, tricorder in hand, as the forcefield shimmered around the unconscious Vaadwaur pilot.

Moments later, under Tomraf’s careful supervision, the Vaadwaur stirred. His skin and ridged forehead twisted into a scowl as awareness returned. His sharp eyes flickered rapidly, scanning his surroundings, gauging threats, and cataloguing escape routes. His training was evident.

“Welcome aboard,” Krabreii greeted dryly, arms folded loosely across her chest.

The Vaadwaur sat up slowly, defiance in his gaze. “Where am I?”

“You’re on a starship,” she answered evenly.

“I can see that.” His voice held a clipped arrogance as his lips curled slightly. “Starfleet. You’re far from home. We’d heard rumours that some of you survived, scattered and stranded.”

Saval’s voice cut through coolly. “Your intelligence network is inaccurate.”

The Vaadwaur straightened, his eyes hardening. “It is irrelevant. The galaxy is ours. Release me before my people realise I’m missing or face elimination.”

Krabreii tilted her head, unbothered. “I always preferred the Borg’s catchphrase. ‘You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.’ Has more flair.” Her gaze sharpened. “Reconnaissance mission?”

“You won’t hold this asteroid field. It will be ours,” the Vaadwaur snapped. His expression twisted into a sneer. “The crystals here will tip the balance. The Supremacy will rise. Soon, all who oppose us will kneel.”

Tomraf exhaled audibly, unimpressed. “More tired rhetoric. You don’t know us.”

“Your Federation will fall!” the Vaadwaur spat, but then, mid-sentence, his features contorted. His breath caught; his hands clawed weakly at the air. His body convulsed violently before collapsing to the deck.

“Medical emergency!” Tomraf dropped beside him instantly, tricorder reactivating with a chirp. His face darkened as he scanned rapidly. “He’s dead, ma’am. He released a cellular toxin into his bloodstream.”

Krabreii’s expression didn’t shift. Slowly, she stepped closer, her boots clicking softly on the deck. She gazed down impassively at the lifeless Vaadwaur. After a quiet beat, she turned toward Saval, voice low and cool.

“Pull that fighter apart, Commander. I want everything it holds uncovered. Every frequency, every scrap of data. If there’s a lead buried in there, I want it.”

Saval inclined his head. “Aye, Captain.”