Captain Banfield took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her bat’leth in her hands. The flashes of holographic Klingon warriors surrounded her, their movements powerful and deliberate as they advanced toward her. The tension in the air was palpable as Banfield’s focus sharpened.

With a quick sidestep, she swung the bat’leth in a wide arc, cutting down one warrior. Without hesitation, she moved to the next, spinning to meet him head-on. Her bat’leth clashed with his, sparks flying from the contact. With a quick shift of her weight, she sent him crashing to the ground just as her next opponent lunged from behind. She spun, her movements fast and precise, knocking down another attacker with an elegant thrust of her blade. One by one, they fell. The Klingon warriors, though holograms, were no match for her.

Frustration and focus fuelled every strike.

The holodeck doors hissed open, pulling her attention for a split second. Banfield didn’t hesitate; her blade turned toward the new figure entering the room. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. His footsteps were familiar.

Lieutenant Dreth, the Klingon warrior saved by the Triton a few months ago, walked into the room. His dark eyes studied the chaos of the holodeck as he calmly picked up a bat’leth from the floor. His voice broke the silence. He and Banfield had developed a unique bond since his rescue, a bond that transcended their different backgrounds and roles on the Triton. 

“Defend yourself, Captain,” Dreth’s determined voice broke the silence, his challenge hanging in the air like a gauntlet thrown.

Banfield’s fluid movements immediately responded, her bat’leth twirling in a defensive posture. She met his attack with a sharp counter, her determination shining through. Dreth was strong, but she was faster, and each move was calculated. She dodged, blocked, and then in one decisive motion, knocked Dreth onto his back with a swift kick to his chest.

Banfield stood over him, her bat’leth lowering to her side. She took a deep breath, her muscles still tense from the fight. “Computer, end programme.”

The room returned to normal, the holographic Klingons vanishing, and the tension in the air dissipated. 

Banfield offered Dreth a hand up.

“What is it, Lieutenant? You’re interrupting my workout,” she asked, her voice steady, though there was a hint of curiosity.

Dreth chuckled loudly as he accepted her hand, pulling himself up to his feet. “If this were a Klingon ship, Captain, I would have challenged you for command.”

Banfield’s eyes narrowed. “Explain yourself.”

He didn’t hesitate, his voice serious. “You saved me and my comrades from a dishonourable end aboard the Romart. We swore an oath to serve aboard the Triton after we left the Veil. We made that promise until we could return home, and we deserve to know what’s in the data package you recovered when you linked up with the Barzan wormhole relay.”

Banfield’s expression softened. She had expected this moment; she knew it would come eventually. Dreth, while not Starfleet, had been assigned to her senior staff in an advisory role, and his loyalty was unquestionable.

She grabbed a towel and dabbed the sweat from her neck, lost briefly in thought. “I needed time to process what’s in that data package,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “The Triton is moving out of the pulsar cluster. I thought I had time before I shared this with Commodore McCallister and the others.”

Dreth studied her, every word weighted with intent. “Perhaps what you’ve read is not good news.”

Banfield met his gaze, her silence confirming his suspicion. Dreth nodded, his expression turning more serious.

“My mother once told me that the truth,” Dreth said, low but intense, “is a warrior’s greatest weapon. To withhold it dishonours you and those you lead into battle.” He straightened, his tone unyielding. “Do not let fear or hesitation cloud your judgment. The truth must be shared, not hidden.”

She nodded, absorbing his words. “Your mother sounds like a wise woman. Thank you for the reminder, Lieutenant. I’ll speak to McCallister first.”

Dreth’s eyes flashed with a mixture of respect and concern. “I advise against that, Captain.”

Banfield looked at him, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“Your first officer, Commander Lukiz Jen,” Dreth continued, “is a man of honour, one who can offer wisdom in times like this. His many lifetimes as a joined Trill have given him experience beyond any of us. You should trust him with this information, to at least share the weight it brings. A lone warrior can’t always fight off an incoming storm.”

Banfield looked at Dreth, weighing his words. It wasn’t like her to delay difficult decisions, but Dreth was right. Jen had always been steady and thoughtful. Perhaps he could offer a perspective and at least share the burden.

“I’ll consider it,” Banfield said, her voice resolute. “Thank you, Dreth.”

Dreth gave a slight nod, acknowledging her decision. “Honour in your decisions, Captain. It is the way of our people.”

With that, Dreth turned to leave, his boots echoing softly against the floor. Banfield remained in the quiet of the holodeck, her thoughts heavy with the weight of the choices ahead of her. Eventually, she picked up her combadge and tapped it. “Banfield to Jen.” She paused. “Lukiz, meet me in my ready room in half an hour.”

“Sure thing, captain.” He replied.

“Wow,” Jen muttered, leaning back in his chair across from Banfield. The two of them were in her ready room, and she had just played the message and displayed the information the data package had. In it was a series of classified materials listed as for captain’s eyes only. Considering that Jen’s seventh host was a former Starfleet captain and his sixth host was a Federation ambassador who had served on the Federation Council, Banfield had decided to share it with him.

“Yeah, that was my initial reaction as well,” Banfield said from her side of the desk, with a mug of raktijino in her free hand. “I needed to clear my head first.”

“How the hell have they been able to invade the Alpha and Beta Quadrants like that?” Jen asked, still in shock. 

Banfield shrugged. “Obviously, these blackouts across subspace are their doing. I suppose it limits the fallout from anyone trying to mount a defence against them.”

“It doesn’t quite explain why they’ve attacked the Talaxians and Haakonians, but it does tell us they have the might to mount a significant military campaign on multiple fronts,” Jen thought aloud. “However, the question remains, why?”

“I don’t know, Lukiz, but I don’t like it,” Banfield admitted as she sipped her beverage.

“At least there’s one silver lining,” Jen said as he picked up his own mug of the Klingon coffee.

“Oh?” Banfield asked, sitting up straight, intrigued by his perspective. 

“At least the commodore won’t get into trouble for authorising the deployment of the quantum slipstream drives!” Jen remarked with a deadpan expression. “The admirals have authorised their use!”

Banfield smirked at his attempt at optimism. “That is one small silver lining,” she agreed. “The question begs, though, what will Commodore McCallister do once he knows this?”

Jen considered the question for a moment. Both of them had served with him on the Odyssey. When he first started in Starfleet, Jen had always looked to James Preston McCallister as a mentor. Now, he pondered further what actions he could predict the commodore would take. He looked at Banfield. “You think he will immediately order us all back to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Banfield questioned.

Jen shook his head. “I don’t think he will.”

“Why not?”

“The threat of the Vaadwaur is real here, in this part of the Delta Quadrant, and like I just said, we need to know why. If we can use this opportunity here to get more intelligence and more data about them, we could help everyone back home.” Jen explained.

“I hope you’re right,” Banfield said with a sigh.

Their discussion was interrupted by the intercom going off, followed by the voice of Counsellor Solis. “Bridge to Captain Banfield.”

“Go ahead,” she answered, looking up from her mug.

“We’ve just reached the edge of the pulsar cluster, and we’re picking up an incoming transmission and Starfleet warp signatures.”

Jen and Banfield exchanged looks before hurrying out of her ready room and heading to the bridge. 

As they walked out, Jen looked at her and spoke up. “I thought the Constitution and Orion would be at slipstream velocities.”

“Knowing both Horatio and Mo’lee and the urgency that came with the commodore’s orders, I would have thought the same,” Banfield agreed as she went straight to the bridge’s centre.

Counsellor Solis rose from the captain’s chair. “It’s not who you think it would be, ma’am.”

Banfield looked at the counsellor with a curious expression. The counsellor indicated that T’Liana, their calm Vulcan science officer, should explain.

“I have been trying to increase our sensor pod’s range, and we have picked up the following shows on our long-range sensors,” T’Liana reported as she changed the main viewscreen to show her results. “Four ships. All Starfleet.”

“Four ships?” Jen said, frowning. “That’s not who we were expecting.” 

Banfield’s fingers drummed lightly on her chair. Something didn’t sit right with her. “Put them up, lieutenant,” she ordered her Vulcan science officer.

Four Starfleet deltas appeared on the screen with their registry numbers and names.

USS Almagest (NCC-91870),

USS Meridian (NCC-80629),

USS Minerva (NCC-96131),

And USS Constellation (NCC-91017).

Banfield smirked at the display. “How far away are they?”

Thamars, who was at the operations console, swivelled round. As the Betan officer nodded, his almost golden blonde curls moved with his bobbing head. “At slipstream? A few hours at best, ma’am.”

“I’m sure the commodore will be happy to hear help is nearby,” Banfield said, the grin tugging at her lips unmistakable. 

Finally, some good news, she thought.