The arching tactical rail behind the command chair pulsed faintly with status indicators, while the forward stations gleamed with lines of amber and blue. The steady hum of warp filled the deckplates, a vibration felt more than heard. Parr sat in the command chair with her usual slightly awkward posture. Every now and then she caught herself and forced a more relaxed posture. One leg crossed neatly over the other, her mended arm resting on the chair’s edge. Her eyes were fixed on the main viewer where the stars streaked by.

At operations, the Andorian ensign’s antennae twitched nervously as he bent over his console, his long fingers dancing across the display. The glow lit his pale features with shifting colours, the cascade of subspace traffic scrolling. At the science station, Jevlak leaned in close to her readout, eyes narrowed, lips pressed thin, as though staring hard enough could force sense from the jumble of Tholian bursts.

Communications chimed. “Priority transmission from Starbase 420,” the ensign called, straightening so quickly that his chair squeaked. He turned, blue skin catching the low light.

“Parr to Ayres. Captain, incoming transmission.”

The ready room doors hissed open almost instantly. Ayres strode out, crossing to the command chair as Parr vacated his and moved to her own. “On screen, and patch Commander Aloran in.”

The stars vanished, replaced by a Starfleet commander, framed against the backdrop of a nondescript office. The commander’s voice crackled with faint distortion, but his words were clear enough. “Farragut, I’m Commander Macintosh, strategic operations at Starbase 420. We have a situation and we need you to stand down your current course to the Tholian border and divert immediately to Starbase 420. The USS Shuswap has been damaged in hostile action with Tholian vessels.”

Aloran’s distinct voice cut in, “This is concerning, commander. Are hostilities ongoing?”

“No, not as far as we can tell. The Tholian diplomatic mission has accused the Shuswap as violating their territory.”

“Did they?”

“No, they were on a regular route along our side of the border,” the commander looked at his console. “Survivors are inbound aboard allied vessels. Captain Ayres, you will rendezvous here with the Culver City and Blythe to coordinate our assessment and response.”

Ayres spoke up before Aloran could continue. “Thank you, commander. Please transmit all the available data to our fusion centre. We’ll make haste to you. Ayres out.”

The channel closed. Silence fell. Even the low vibration of the warp drive seemed hushed. Parr shifted forward, tapping at the console to her right, observing the incoming data. “The Shuswap is a Reliant-class ship, not a pushover.”

Ayres nodded in her direction but directed his voice forward. “Helm, alter course for Starbase 420. Maximum warp.”

The young helm officer pivoted in his chair. “Aye, sir. Coming to new heading.”

The main viewer tilted, the warpstream bending as the ship swung onto its new course.

“Tactical,” Ayres continued, his gaze flicking over his shoulder toward the silhouette of Kincaid at the rail, “will you go to Aloran in the fusion centre and get up to speed on what we have. They may need your expertise.”

“Yes, captain. The Culver City and Blythe are both utility cruisers. If the situation escalates, they’ll be relying on us.” Kincaid moved toward the turbolift. “Let’s hope there’s a diplomatic solution to this.”

“I’m sure our new task group commander won’t be relying on hope.”

Minerva Centre

The fusion centre was a cocoon of light and sound. Dozens of LCARS panels flickered on the walls, each alive with shifting blue and amber schematics. A central console jutted into the room like the prow of a ship, angled screens pulsing with streams of intelligence. Soft lighting glowed from the overhead circle, throwing the maroon deck into deep shadows. The chairs stood at their stations like sentinels, many still occupied by officers hunched forward, faces caught in the glow of their readouts.

Aloran stood near the central station, still, his eyes following the latticework of Tholian signals that crawled across the main wall display. His Vulcan calm radiated outward, steadying the younger analysts around him as their feeds chirped and scrolled faster with every passing cycle.

The doors parted with a hiss. Kincaid stepped inside, eyes scanning the room before locking on Aloran. “Thought I’d see how your people are reading the Tholians, commander” Kincaid said.

Aloran inclined his head politely. “Commander Kincaid. We are examining their burst transmissions. Patterns suggest coordination – fleet movements, but not overtly hostile. It is nuanced.”

Kincaid folded his arms. “Nuanced is one word.” He nodded toward the screen, where data from Starbase 420 scrolled. “Heavily damaging the Shuswap isn’t very nuanced . We may have to push hard to stop them.”

Aloran’s gaze lingered on him, unflinching but patient. “Push back too hard, and they weave their web tighter. They are a species that responds poorly to threats. Diplomacy, careful signalling, restraint. These may yield more than brute force.”

Kincaid stepped closer, leaning on the edge of the console, his reflection caught in the dark surface. “Restraint’s a luxury, commander. The Vaadwaur made an already difficult fleet situation the very opposite of luxurious,” he jabbed a finger toward the shifting Tholian cluster on the screen. “If we hesitate, they’ll see weakness.”

The officers at the side consoles shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the two commanders. The clash between tactical steel and diplomatic patience. Aloran, unbothered, folded his hands behind his back. “And yet strength does not always wear the shape of force. The Tholians are deliberate. If we can learn the rhythm of their intent, we may hold the line without firing a shot. Violence should not be our first answer.”

Kincaid gave a small grunt. “Do you not think, commander, that at times it may be the only answer available to us?”

Aloran turned from the display to face him fully, his expression as calm as his voice. “Then I trust you will be ready, commander. As will I. But until that moment, we must exhaust every other path. For if we commit to battle too soon, we may prematurely choose failure.”

The silence that followed was taut, broken only by the soft chirp of a subspace feed updating. Kincaid straightened, arms dropping to his sides. “Fair enough. You watch for nuance. May I take a station and run some conflict simulations? Then between us, we’ll be prepared for both.”

Aloran allowed the faintest flicker of a smile. “A balance we can agree on.” The two officers stood side by side, staring up at the shifting map of Tholian activity, two very different minds watching the same patterns, preparing for two very different outcomes.