“I have the outpost on sensors, dead ahead, right where the labrats said it would be,” Lieutenant Commander Emily Essinger reported from operations. “Three minutes out. Looks defended by two battlecruisers and eight assault escorts.”

“They’ve caught onto our little scheme after Golroth hit the first one,” Captain Dorian Vox chuckled. It was bound to happen once they started attacking the Underspace-rooted outposts the Vaadwaur were using to create the Blackout effect. “Just a pair of cruisers though? Guess they didn’t realize we were bringing a party.” As opposed to when they raced into the K’t’inga fleet yards solo, this time they had an armada at their backs, including both General Kloss’ beastly Bortasqu’ and General Golroth’s entire battle group. More than enough to roll these guys over.

“Chew ’em up, spit ’em out,” smiled Lieutenant Commander Matthew Coleman from the conn, his eyes coming alive at the prospect. “Then rinse and repeat.” Waking up in sickbay after their last run-in with the enemy had not deterred his competitive edge. Instead, it’d just made him hungry to get even, and now they were doing just that, knocking down the walls the Vaadwaur had built. They’d take these guys out, and then they’d go for the next one and the one after that. “Curious they didn’t bring more firepower to their defense though.” This would almost be too easy.

“When you’re fighting a war on fifty fronts, it’s hard to have enough assets to dedicate to any one of them,” Commander Ryan Hunt offered from tactical. Although reports coming in from worlds under siege described the invasion as one of overwhelming force projection, the reality was that, more than anything, the Vaadwaur were relying on the Blackout’s effects as a force multiplier. When you were isolated and alone, even a small cruiser group looked like the end of the world. “I’d presume they don’t have more here because they’re busy with the rest of the galaxy.” A big mistake though since the Blackout had been a key element of their success.

“A critical misstep,” Commander Jordyn Kerrigan scrutinized. The combat controller knew better than anyone how important it was to stay concentrated on your key objectives. “Confidence that prevents them from seeing the hole in their strategy? Or another layer we’re not seeing?”

“Usually a bit of both,” Captain Vox warned pensively. This crew, and him too if he was honest with himself, were all as confident as they came. And rightfully so. They were damn good at what they did, but that meant they were also vulnerable of falling into the same trap as the Vaadwaur. “Don’t forget that even if the deck looks stacked in our favor, it doesn’t mean that’s how the cards will fall. If there’s something we’re missing, find it. If there’s not, then we just get this done nice and quick, and go home safe and sound.”

That was something they could all get behind, especially after the Battle of K’t’inga, where the Diligent‘s crew had lost one hundred and eight of their friends and colleagues, and where they had almost lost the other five hundred and forty two, right down to the last man.

Suddenly, an alarm went off at the tactical station.

“We just got painted by their sensors,” Commander Hunt announced. “They see us now. They’re coming about.” He did the math on the closing time as he watched the blips begin to move towards them. “Estimate one minute thirty to intercept.”

Captain Vox looked down at the display mounted in his armrest. The enemy was accelerating. This was going to be a high speed, head-on collision. The way the Underspace urged you forth like a raging river, it would change the dynamics, and he intended to use that to their advantage, not bogging down in a stagnant fight, but punching a hole straight through the enemy. 

“Raise the generals,” Captain Vox ordered.

Two Klingon generals, the stalwart Golroth commanding his cruiser group from the bridge of his Negh’Var, and the brash Kloss standing proudly on his Bortasqu’ flagship, appeared in splitscreen.

“We have inbound,” Captain Vox explained. “Just over a minute out.”

“A meager force, easily crushed,” General Kloss declared, sounding more disappointed than anything. “I’d hoped for more of a fight.” He wanted a fight they’d write songs about. This would not be that. There’d be no more glory here than bludgeoning an aged grishnar cat.

“An easy fight does not make a worthless victory,” General Golroth reminded the younger man. “The destruction of this outpost will open subspace as far as No’Mat.” And that would be a major victory, the first step towards deconstructing the Blackout that had carved the galaxy into tiny pieces, allowing the Vaadwaur to ravage the place with little resistance.

“I suppose,” nodded General Kloss. What had convinced him to take his dreadnought away from the shipyard and join this little sortie was that, once this wall fell, they’d be one step closer to reestablishing contact with Qo’noS. At least that’s what Voragh had assured him.

Captain Vox was equally incentivized as Dr. Brooks had hypothesized that once this outpost fell, the boundaries might degrade sufficiently that they could reach their repeater at Gamma Hyromi. If so, it would be their first two-way connection with Federation space in over a month. But it wouldn’t happen if they just sat around shooting the breeze. “Focus up gentlemen!”

His snappy tone sufficiently silenced the generals.

“Golroth, form your cruiser group around Diligent,” Captain Vox ordered. “We’re gonna make a wedge and punch a hole through their line, hard and fast. Then we double back, splitting the outpost from its defenses.” Extra details weren’t necessary since once the battle kicked off, Commander Kerrigan, from her usual spot in the Combat Information Center, would micromanage every last aspect of their movements. This was enough for the big picture.

“That I can do,” General Kloss agreed. His Mat’Has and B’rels were more than nimble enough to execute such a maneuver within the confines of the Underspace corridor, and although it would be a bit of a stretch for the Negh’Var, his helmsman would just have to do some work to earn his darseks for the day.

“Kloss, you’re going straight through that hole, continuing straight for the outpost,” Captain Vox continued. The Bortasqu’ was almost as long as the corridor was wide, and it would never manage to execute the maneuver the other ships would make. Not that it needed to. “Your job, turn that thing to stardust.” The firepower on Kloss’ dreadnought could single handedly carve up the outpost as long as they didn’t let the enemy double back and close on its rear.

“A stagnant target,” General Kloss grumbled. “As much glory to be found there as shooting asteroids in the Ikalian belt.” Now he’d be doing exactly what he’d mocked Golroth for.

General Golroth didn’t like the Toral’s lapdog, but he knew what drove a brash young warrior like Kloss, and right now, that was what they needed so he appealed to the simple man’s simple mind: “My friend, you will deliver the first blow on our path to glory.”

“Twenty on intercept,” Commander Hunt interjected.

“Then it’s decided,” General Golroth declared before signing off. “To victory!”

General Kloss, for his party, disconnected without so much as another word, still bitter about the assignment. What glory was there in shooting an outpost that couldn’t even fight back? Oh well, at least this would get them one setp closer to Qo’noS.

As the main screen returned to a view over the front of their bow, Captain Vox could make out the enemy too, the Vaadwaur battlecruisers racing forward just little more than specks against the turbulence of the labyrinth. But that distance was closing. Fast.

“Launch fighters,” Captain Vox ordered.

“Fighters away,” Commander Kerrigan reported from the CIC.

Up at the front of the bridge, they watched what was left of Lieutenant Dalton McCormick’s starfighter wing, plus spares borrowed from the Polaris, as they tore out of the forward launch bay, drawing up all around the Alita class heavy cruiser. 

On all sides now, they could see the Klingons too, a mix of Mat’Has and B’rels, plus General Golroth’s Negh’Var and General Kloss’ Bortasqu’.

“Shields to full,” Captain Vox ordered. “Weapons hot.”

“Shields, weapons, aye,” Commander Hunt confirmed.

Now he could make out the enemy better, both the pair Astika class battlecruisers and even the Masna class gunboats, each bristling with polaron cannons and torpedo tubes, as they charged forward.

This was going to be a fight. No doubt about that. But this time, they had the numbers and they were on the front foot. And that felt damn good.