It’s commonly said that asteroid belts aren’t as they’re depicted in movies, tightly packed and hazardous lanes of rock and ice tumbling every which way. It’s not so much that that isn’t true, and more that there’s a stage in an asteroid belt’s lifespan, early on, if the originator object was rather massive, that does result in a massive, rolling expanse of seemingly infinite obstacles.

It just so happened that whatever planet broke up to make the Nareen system’s developing asteroid belt must’ve been quite large, because Wasp was ducking and weaving her way between chunks of rocks twice her size, weaving through gaps only a ship as flat as a Defiant-class could squeeze through. And even then, it’d been a close call- Song was fairly sure they would’ve lost some of the running lights if they’d pulled it any tighter.

“I’m starting to see how you Oakland fellas handled a battlecruiser on your own,” Az complimented the Caitian at the helm- or maybe just mused, because the expression on the Betazoid’s face was anything but easygoing- “but I can’t say this is my definition of a good time, so the sooner we find an exit from this mess, the better.”

“It’s either hide in the mess or take our chances with that frigate,” Song replied, bracing herself against her chair as Wasp rocketed through yet another nailbitingly tight gap in the rocks. “and we’re trying to avoid trading fire with the Draxans right now. At least until we get an update from Al-Batani.”

A dull-red beam burst through the densely packed asteroids, and a chunk of rock maybe twenty kilometers off their starboard beam, big enough to replace Cardenas‘s entire saucer, disappeared in a flash of light and a cloud of rubble.

“… do we really need Captain Gor to tell us the Draxans are trying to blow us up?” Rainet deadpanned, ever helpful. Wasp squeezed through another gap in the rocks to find an open patch between the next cluster of rocks, and Rakko punched the engines with so little warning even the inertial dampeners took a split second to catch up, everyone on the bridge feeling the momentum slam them back into their seats for a moment. Another chunk of rock blew apart, a halo of debris peppering the larger asteroids like a cosmic frag grenade.

“Frigate’s closing the distance,” Az announced, expression grim. “She’s well into weapons range by now. Commander, I appreciate that we’re not here to start a fight, but we’re already being engaged- can’t we just give her a sharp knock in the jaw? If nothing else, it’ll catch them off guard.”

Song’s fingers tightened around the arms of her chair again, teeth gritting. She hated making these sorts of snap decisions on exploratory missions- it always felt less like self-defense against an equal and more like punching a kid on a playground. But it was either engage or wait around for someone else to cut them loose like a dog on a leash, by which point something significantly nastier than one frigate might’ve shown up.

A sigh hissed from between her teeth, hands lifting from her armrests to clasp before her face. Fuck. “… Rakko, swing us up and around, we’ll make one pass and break for open space. Az, cannons only, no torpedoes- we’re trying to tell her off, not snap her in half- yet.”

“Fingers crossed…” he murmured, as Wasp lurched into her sudden about-face turn. Two more beams ripped past the squirrely escort, these finding nothing but empty space. Another splashed against the fore shields- what effect it had, Song would never know, because any callout was cut off by a familiar, deep rumbling that seemed to subtly shake the whole ship, like an engine nearing the redline. Wasp‘s trademark quad phaser cannons roared their staccato song, cyclic bursts of yellow-orange stitching their opponent’s bow and underside as the two ships closed-

-and then zipped on by, so close that someone standing on Wasp‘s starboard nacelle could’ve reached out and touched the Draxan frigate’s hull.

“We are clear of the asteroid belt,” Rainet announced, marking the understatement of the year.

“And the frigate?” Song’s eyes darted from Rainet to Azestra, the frown etched into her face as if chiseled into marble. Like punching a kid on a playground…

“Stunned her, it seems,” he reported. “Her shields are down, and she has mild hull damage forward. A forward weapons array seems to be knocked out.” He nodded, apparently satisfied with his work. “Solid punch to the nose, by all accounts. Though, we really do need to talk to T’Vara about that rattling… I thought that was supposed to have been fixed last overhaul.”

“If that was fixable, it would’ve been twenty years ago,” Song remarked. “She’s rattled since the day we stepped aboard, and she’ll probably rattle until the day she’s decommissioned. Focus, Az- what’s our dance partner doing?”

His attention turned back to the console… and then his brows knitted. “She’s… changing course. Bearing 126 mark 029-”

“-which leads out of the system,” Rakko piped up, craning over to try and see the tactical display, “and definitely isn’t where we’re going.”

“Energy buildup- she’s going to warp!”

And as soon as Az had spoken, a flash of light lit up Wasp‘s viewscreen as the frigate streaked out into the stars. A second flash followed from closer to Nareen, by the main Draxan force.

“One of the cruisers has gone to warp as well,” Rain reported. “Same bearing as the frigate. Hail incoming from Mok’tal.”

The view of the system blinked away before Song could even acknowledge it. She almost hated how her crew knew to put any hail from the old Bird of Prey on the screen before she did. And she especially almost hated how the Klingon woman who appeared on it suddenly sat up ramrod-straight from where she’d been draped over her chair like a rug, as if the sight of Song snapped her attention on instinct.

Almost hated how Kurino didn’t even bother with formality with her. Almost.

“While you were playing in the rocks, So-Mi,” she mused, “we picked up a distress call you might find rather interesting. It’s very low quality, and we believe the weakness of the transmission and the interference of the system’s dust prevented it from reaching Hypatia and company… but our two friends left very shortly after, and in the same direction the transmission came from.”

If the circumstances were different, Song might’ve taken a moment to remind Kurino that her crew was right there. But for once, nobody seemed interested in teasing them. “Anything actionable?”

“Only that it mentions being pursued, propulsion damage, and name-drops the Draxans,” she replied. A gesture was made offscreen to another of Mok’tal‘s crew, and a moment later Rainet perked up with a marked frown on her face.

That was all the confirmation Song needed. “I don’t think the Draxans are in the habit of making house calls. Suggestions?”

“You ask a Klingon for suggestions?” Kurino snorted, a grin splitting her face as she unholstered a disruptor pistol and spun it on her finger. “I say we stop, ah, what’s the Earth phrase… beating around the bush? The Draxans clearly come with malicious intent, have already fired upon Wasp, destroyed a probe, and we are now receiving a distress call mentioning them by name- to which reinforcements have now responded. I say we ride to their defense and finally meet the Draxans in glorious combat!”

Of course, she’d say that, Song found herself thinking for a moment- eyes dropping to the floor as she thought. Yet, her mind was already made up- Kurino almost certainly knew before she even looked back up, met the Klingon’s gaze. Held it.

They knew each other too well to think otherwise.

“… Rakko, track that distress call to its source and plot a course,” she declared- catching one final glimpse of Kurino’s toothy grin before the frequency closed. “Rain, we might not have time for another hail- just burst a transmission to Al-Batani, let them know we’re responding to a distress call and a portion of the Draxan fleet has split off to follow it.”

“Consider it done.” Rainet might’ve never smashed out a transmission faster, with the way she was moving. A grim determination settled over the bridge- unease, for some with past experiences with distress calls.

Song stood from her chair, quiet and calm, and placed a hand on Rakko’s tense shoulder. “Easy, Lieutenant. You’re not on a California anymore, and we’re not going alone. We’ve got this.”

Feline eyes met human, a moment of silence, and the Caitian nodded with a tense exhale of breath. “… right. Yeah. Course laid in, skipper.”

Song fell back into her chair. “Punch it.”

And space dissolved into a sea of stars.