“Morning,” Rebecca greeted, her voice muffled by a yawn as she cradled a steaming cup of coffee. She stifled another yawn, her eyes half-closed as she navigated around a group of officers moving in the opposite direction. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the metallic tang of the starbase’s recycled air. Conversations hummed around her, occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. Outside the expansive windows, Starfleet, Vulcan, and merchant ships glided past, the orange glow of Vulcan casting a warm hue over the scene.

Riandri smiled as Rebecca dodged the group of officers. “Morning. Looks like you could use more sleep.” She fell in beside her as they made their way down the promenade. “How’s the coffee? Been debating getting a raktajino if you can spare a minute.”

“I broke into my private stash,” Rebecca grinned. “So it’s excellent. I might have to take a quick trip to Earth for more.”

Riandri let out a short laugh at that. “I should have thought of packing a private stash last time I was on Earth. I had a wonderful tea blend I spent the better part of two decades perfecting.” As they approached the Klingon coffee house, Riandri quickly popped inside and returned a moment later with a cup of her own. “So, any idea what this meeting is about? I haven’t heard anything from my contacts.”

Rebecca shot her XO an amused expression. “As the Intel officer too, shouldn’t you be telling me?” Taking a sip of her coffee, she shrugged, conceding to the question. “I don’t know. Probably the same boring intel briefing as they always are. ‘For your eyes only,’” she quoted the Vulcan in charge of the sector’s intelligence. “Always look, but don’t talk about it or act on it.” She sighed with a hint of frustration. They had been assigned to Vulcan for over a month now, and the events on the Luphirian homeworld were becoming a fleeting memory.

Riandri rolled her eyes at that and shrugged. “I know what you mean, though this briefing has been kept under wraps. None of the intel officers on the other ships have mentioned anything of note.” She continued in silence for a moment before taking a sip of her drink. “So much nicer than the replicated stuff. Anyway, my only thought on the complete lack of information is that something is up. Maybe a new deployment; we have been sitting here for too long.”

“Maybe, but I’ve never known Fleet to be so cagey. It’s always orders sent via subspace: ‘Go here. Do this. Signed Admiral Stiff-shirt.’” Then the realization hit her. “There was one time… just like this… Tyra.” Rebecca felt like a ball of lead had landed in the pit of her stomach. Denver was just one of 14 ships that had survived that battle. She lost a captain, and they all came way too close to dying. “There’s a major offensive about to take place,” she said softly as if the noose was already around her neck.

Riandri was about to make an off-hand remark about ‘Admiral Stiff-shirt’ but stopped at the mention of Tyra. “Well, shit…that makes perfect sense actually.” Riandri almost reached for her combadge and stopped, taking a deep breath, “Let’s see what they say, no point getting Jeter to start doing combat pre-checks yet, especially after all the drills he has had the crew running through of late.” She glanced over at Rebecca as she felt a sense of apprehension grow within her. She was trying to get a handle on some of her more innate abilities this one she was pretty confident on.

“Are you ok Captain? I know that Tyra was,… difficult for you and the Denver.” Riandri said calmly. 

“I’m fine,” Rebecca said not sounding very convincing. “We’ve been in battle since.”

Riandri looked at her, her head cocked to the side with a knowing look on her face, “True, but none of them were Tyra. That battle saw you promoted to Captain.” She paused for a moment, “Sorry if I am pushing.”

Rebecca sipped her coffee, giving Riandri a sidelong glance. She took a deep breath and shrugged. “You’re fine. It’s not a great feeling, but that’s war, right?” She rounded a corner, and the turbolift doors hissed open as they approached.

“Deck fifty-six,” she commanded.

The computer beeped in acknowledgement, and the car whirred to life, descending deeper into the station. Lights on the wall flashed, indicating the turbolift’s direction of travel, and air whistled around the car as it sped to its destination.

“Down we go…” Riandri muttered before taking a sip of her drink and finishing it off. “With luck, this war will be over soon and we will have time to process what has happened,” she commented, linking back to Rebecca’s earlier statement. As she did the Turbolift stopped and opened. After a quick walk down the hall, they stopped before the door to one of the large briefing rooms. “Guess it’s time to find out what all the hush-hush is about.”

Rebecca stepped into the auditorium-style briefing room.  Four rows of seats were in a semi-circle around a platform backdropped with an expansive viewscreen. The three hundred seats were filled with captains and their XOs or Intelligence officers.  The conversations of hundreds of overlapping officers created a dull roar and Rebecca gritted her teeth and touched her hand to her temple.

Scanning the auditorium, Rebecca located a pair of empty seats along the back row near the middle. She sighed and gave Riandri a half-hearted smile and shrug before carefully weaving around the knees and stepping over the feet of her fellow officers. She slid into her seat and picked up the provided PADD from the armrest holder. Entering her command codes, she marked her attendance at the briefing and accessed the materials to be discussed.

Riandri slipped into the seat beside her, quickly signed into the PADD and began to scan the executive summary. “Let’s see what they have given us here…,” she said half-jokingly. After a moment, she put the PADD down and looked over at Rebecca, “Even the official briefing summary doesn’t say much.”

“No… it doesn’t.”

A hush spread over the auditorium as a Vulcan with four gold pips on his collar exited the office behind the viewscreen. Stepping up to the podium, he entered commands, and the blank screen behind him flashed the Starfleet logo before switching to a quadrant map showing the current battle lines between the Dominion and the Federation, Klingon, and Romulan alliance.

Rebecca frowned, her heart aching for those stuck on the wrong side of the line. There was far too much Federation territory on the Dominion side of the border. A surge of heat ran through her veins, and she clenched her fists, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. She glanced around, noticing similar expressions of concern and determination on the faces of her fellow officers.

Riandri shook her head as she looked at the map, none of it was new to her one of the displays in the intelligence office presented this map and any updates continually. “God, how I hate that map,” she muttered as she scanned it for any new updates. As she did she started to flip through the files on her PADD to see what this was about.

Rebecca gave Riandri a sympathetic nod. There was no reason to say anything. What was there to say? That damned map was representation of the lives lost and failures the Federation and endured.

“I extend my gratitude for your prompt attendance,” the Vulcan’s voice echoed through the auditorium, amplified by the comm system. He stood with his back rigid, and his face expressionless in the harsh light of the stage lighting that illuminated him. “I am Captain Kerval, the sector intelligence officer. The content of today’s briefing is classified and strictly restricted to the present audience. Do not share any details with your personnel unless it is necessary. Should there be uncertainty regarding necessity, the default position is to withhold information.”

Rebecca leaned closer to Riandri, her voice barely audible over the hushed murmurs of the audience. “So far, this briefing seems no different from the others.” Her gaze shifted to the view screen taking in the dispositions of the various combat groups operating in the many theaters of operations.

“So far…” Riandri said in agreement, “But something isn’t sitting right with me. I am waiting for the hammer to fall.”

Kerval enterd commands into the podium and the map zoomed in on the Betazed System. “Intelligence reports from various resistance cells on the planet have been indicating a build up of Dominion forces in the area that includes the 9th and 12th Cardassian Orders along with elements of the 5th and 7th Orders.  In addition we are aware of a significant Dominion presence of between fifty and 200 fighters and cruisers.”

An eruption of hushed murmurs rippled about the auditorium. There was a tension in the air that was so thick you could almost feel it. Rebecca didn’t respond. She simply stared at the icons on the map representing the enemy disposition as dread creeped into her core being.

Riandri exhaled knowing what it meant. Without thinking about it she softly said, “An offensive…”

As she looked at the map she once again thought through all the possible targets. The loss of Betazed had opened a massive gap in the Federation lines, the potential targets were too numerous. They could if they were bold enough strict into the heart of federation but would they think the risk was worth the reward? As she thought further, she knew the answer: the Dominion didn’t care about the Cardassians or the Jem’hadar. If they thought they could hit the core of the federation they would.

She looked over at Rebecca for a quick moment, “I don’t think they intend this to be a knife to the heart.”

“There’s a dozen core worlds and significant colonies within striking distance.”

“That is my concern,” Riandri said with a shake of her head.

Kerval’s placid tone continued.  “Intelligence believes the most likely target for their attack is Vulcan, but Andor with it’s weapons manufacturing is also highly probable.”  He entered more commands into the podium, and all the PADDs beeped as the new classified orders were issued. “On your PADDs your ship will be assigned into three ship squadrons.  Half of you will take up positions at the poles using the magnetic interference to disrupt enemy sensors.  As we speak our ships in the Bajoran Sector are deploying buoys that will be transmitting your ship’s transponder signal and warp signature. For the rest of you, it will be business as usual.”

Rebecca scrolled through the PADD, “We’re the lead ship with the Andromeda and the Texarkana.”

Riandri glanced over at Rebecca and nodded as she came across the information for herself. “The Denver is a good choice, we have systems for Fleet operations. That said a possible attack on Vulcan is concerning but we will stand our ground,” she said though there was a slight waver in her voice.

“Texarkana is an old Excelsior-class.” Rebecca bit her lower lip. “But we aren’t one of the squadrons in hiding. The crew will be happy about that.” She smirked and gave Riandri a conspiratorial grin, “They just won’t know about it. We need to start recalling our out of system crew though, and we’re going to need to schedule battle drills to coordinate with the rest of the squadron.” 

Riandri smirked, “That’s another way of saying, We’re the bait.” She glanced back down at the PADD and then nodded, “I will send out the recall notices as soon as we are out of here and I am sure Jeter will be overjoyed to ramp up the battle drills. He was saying the other day that we need to get them planned and underway again.”