“We are still updating our list of colonies.”  Lieutenant Tir handed over the PADD to Captain Dread, who sat in the center chair of the bridge.  “We’ve had a few more responses after the announcement of the command and ship changes went out.”

Helena scrolled through the report, amused.  “So we increase the size of our swagger and people start paying us a little more attention?”  She returned the PADD, “I’m not going to argue with progress, but I could have done without the whirlwind.  Operationally, how are we?”

Tir tabbed to his report, “We’re still sorting through the rosters of new officers and crewmen.  We added around 400 new faces and new positions to the shift schedules.  Everyone’s being patient as each department head works to make that happen – the good news is we’ll have deputy chiefs in place by the end of the week.”

Dread grimaced as she filled the silence after his statement, “The bad news is we’ll have deputy chiefs by the end of the week.  The crew’s going to have to do lots of growing up quickly.  Couldn’t have happened to someone else, could it?  Had to be us.”  She thanked him as he returned to his station against the wall.  The bridge was larger than the Daedalus had been and had plenty of consoles for the various members of the senior staff.  Her Chief Flight Control, William Prentice, had been excited to find he had a solo station lowered into the ground in a Voyager-like design.  She was thankful that her XO and whoever would sit at her left would have consoles to access.

Atega’s voice from communications interrupted her thoughts, “Message from the Dragonfly, sir.  They are requesting our assistance – Orion Syndicate ships are moving into attack – initial reports had three total, now four.”  Atega felt her nerves tingling – they’d only just stepped onboard the Douglas.  Now, they were being called into action?

Helena didn’t hesitate, “Mr. Prentice, intercept course at maximum warp.  Red alert!”

Greer Moore looked up from her desk in main engineering, “Please tell me that’s everyone.”  PADDs were scattered across the surface.

Elizabeth McKee, her deputy chief, handed one last PADD over, “Just one more group.  These are our cadet teams – I’m taking both of them under my wings.  You’ll have enough to deal with getting to know the Douglas and handling the department overall.”  She glanced back at the room holding the pulsing warp core, “I never thought I’d see the inside of one of these.”

Moore chuckled as she finished the work on the PADD with the cadet group, “This looks good – we’ll have to see how they handle working together under pressure.  Schedule…,”  she stopped when the lights flickered to the light ruby color and the red alert klaxon rang out, “…well, never mind.  We’ll do it now.”  She jumped out of her chair and strode into the room as the officers on duty poured into the main area.  Eyes were wide from the cadets to the ensigns.  They’d only just boarded one of the fleet’s more complex and updated ships.  Greer put her hands on her hips, and the gathering fell silent.  The Chief had a slight reputation as a taskmaster who didn’t put up with much from the lower deck crews – her expectations both scared and thrilled them.  “Whatever we’re in for, we can handle.”  She motioned to the shift leads as they scrambled to the front of the scrum, “Your battle station assignments are on your PADDs if you need them.  Ensign Davis is the Damage Control lead, Ensign Massey is the Dispatch and Reporting lead, and the Deputy Chief and I are main engineering leads.  Get to your people.”  The group scattered.

Reid walked onto the bridge, her brows frowning as the callouts came from the various stations regarding their progress toward intercepting the Dragonfly. She wondered what had spooked Walton, of all people, and as she listened, it became clear that The Syndicate had decided to throw caution in the atmosphere.  She felt a small voice in the back of her head wonder if Pandora Crawford was finally showing her face after recently throwing hints and allegations into their path.  The helm confirmed they were a minute out.

Dread turned in her chair and motioned her Chief Medical Officer over, “Status?”  She looked as if she needed a brief distraction from whatever they were about to face, and Reid obliged her.

“We’ve got a rough roster of triage docs, nurses, and orderlies.  We got lucky with our assignments – some talented folks got slotted.  I have a deputy chief in place – he’s coming from a Sovereign-class that had a habit of finding their way into battle.  He’s better at inventory than me.”

“Thirty seconds!” was the call from the helm.

Dread raised her eyebrows, “Not many could lay claim to that title, Lieutenant Reid.  You’re welcome to stick around.”  She turned her attention back to the screen as the countdown continued. 

Jordan gripped the top of the railing behind the command chair.  The last time she had stayed on the bridge had been with Harris on his previous commands.  Perhaps it had been out of fear she’d kept to sickbay since his death, or perhaps it felt like a violation of the sacred relationship they had lived.  She wasn’t sure, but she decided to remain.

“Arriving…now.”  Prentice switched to impulse control while Ensign Athena stood at one of the rear stations, her hands hovering over weapons controls.  He reported, “The Dragonfly is fully involved with four medium Syndicate cruisers – her shields are holding at 90%.”

Dread ordered, “Ensign Athena- target the lead ship and fire.  Mr. Prentice – aggressive attack vectors if you please.  Let’s give them something else to shoot at.”  The Douglas was 240 meters shorter than the Obena class Dragonfly.  Prentice smiled – he had been wondering when the chance would come to see what the ship could do.  He put the impulse engines to work, following the requests from Athena as he pushed his new ship into the fight.

The Bajoran Tactical Chief made use of the phaser banks, punching hard with the Type-XIVs with follow-up blasts from the Type-XIIs.  She watched with satisfaction as the shields on the Syndicate ships began to suffer under the barrage from her fire.  The Dragonfly took the cue and went to work on the other ships.  Suddenly, torpedoes flew from the offending ships, slamming up against both Federation ships.  Athena felt her annoyance turn to concern as she warned, “Captain, they’ve taken the gloves off…I recommend we follow the lead.”

Helena leaned forward, “Atega – secure channel to Dragonfly.”  

The screen flicked to Walton, who asked, “Your tactical chief asking for torpedoes as well?”  The Dragonfly bridge shook for the first time and Dread saw a flash of irritation flash across her Division Commander’s face. Dread nodded as the Douglas took a barrage of torpedoes.  Wren intoned, “Let’s even the playing field.  Disable, not destroy. We need to talk to them and find out what we can.”  The channel closed.

Dread ordered, “You heard the captain.  Let’s take off the gloves.”