Commander Ethan Wilder worked at his station, directing the fighters as they wove in and around the Vaadwaur attack force. The station’s weapons were in full force as the attacking ships attempted to soften up the Canopus-class station. With the help of the USS Zephyr, there was balance in the skirmish. The Flight Command officer smiled as the Vaadwaur forces retreated into the fog of The Blackout. He felt some relief as the station held its own. The reports from elsewhere in the rimward weren’t as positive, and the scattered rumors from the rest of the quadrant had left little to be hopeful about.

“Commander?” The voice behind him broke his distraction. He turned and stood, facing the Deputy Director of Communications Operations, Lieutenant Presley Atega. Her eyes were wide, and the PADD in her hand shook slightly.

He cocked his head to the side, “Lieutenant.” She handed him the PADD.

Her voice was uneven, and her eyes stared ahead. “You asked us to search every frequency, every signal, every origin, everything from ancient Earth to modern Earth. You asked us to monitor everything for anything. You said you had a feeling.” She shook her head, “Captain Burton isn’t a ‘feelings’ guy. He did it anyway. Then…that came in within the last hour.”

Wilder activated the PADD, reading the file she’d attached. His sly smile faded as his eyes went from line to line, “You checked?”

A sound resembling a restrained scoff escaped her lips, “Three times. The signal is repeating. Captain Burton verified it three more times with computer assistance and manually.” Her lips twitched, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to echo his formerly sly smile.

“Manually?”

“Captain Burton keeps a ready supply of historical books of record – languages and communications systems history, for the most part. He’s always worried we’re going to lose the central computer.” She nodded at the PADD, “We checked. It’s legitimate.”

Wilder motioned for her to follow him, “Let’s get command read into this.”

Fleet Captain Geronimo Fontana studied the text on his console, “One hundred kids stuck on an old signal station on the far edges of the system. On any other day, I’d be amused. I’ll take those days over this.” He shook his head. This was bad. Bunden II was being held hostage while the small colony on Bunden III had been wiped out. And now a hundred kids in the middle of it all? “Intel and history tell us Vaadwaur don’t worry about crossing lines – they’ll plow right through them. They find out about the station and the kids, not to mention our fighters…they’ll burn every last one of them.” He tapped the PADD against his palm, “The fighters were able to get through the asteroid field… New Atlantic Class runabouts have an emergency capacity of around one hundred.” He motioned his interim XO over, “Captain Pantuso – we’re going to need one of these runabouts worked over like we did with the fighters.”

Her eyebrows piqued as she read, “How soon?”

“An hour ago. I’ll send you the brief.” She gave a curt nod and was off, tapping her badge as she went. He turned to Wilder and Atega, “Good work. Morse is a good standby.” His mind caught up with the situation, “We need to move fast. No telling if the Vaadwaur will stumble across this signal.”

“We did what we could.” Commander Miados stood outside the New Atlantic Class runabout. It had been painted dark, and the windows secured and covered. “We yanked what sensors we could and disabled the rest. Moore’s been testing for the last hour – we don’t think they’ll see or hear her. Unless you make some noise.” She handed the PADD to Lieutenant Atega, “They’re going to be looking for an answer once you get close enough to the moon station.” She glanced over to Commander Charles Hagraves, “Bring her back in one piece, Charlie.” Her tone was half serious, but he gave her a reserved smile back. There was a collective tightening of nerves across command and the station at large. Rumors would always be running rampant on a station of this size. She had long ago accepted it. The trouble was, the rumor replicators went into high gear when something like the Vaadwaur made an appearance.

“I’ll bring her and them back, Miados. My piloting record is still clean, even from the academy days.” She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. Hargraves had been chosen for this mission because he knew how to fly and fly well.

“Then let’s get to work.” She circled her right index finger in the air, ordering everyone into motion, “All hands to launch stations!” The alarms rang as the yellow lights flashed across the deck. The sound of boots on the deck was the only sound. No one spoke. The runabout’s mission was to save 100 children. Nothing else mattered.

On the moon listening station, Gracie Lothan sat at the ancient communications console in the aged operations center. The rest of West Wing had moved the other ninety-nine children into the lower decks to get some food and rest. Lothan turned to him, “You really need to brace yourself.” Her eyes were resolute, yet tinged with a quiet sadness. Falcon Llewllyn sat at the station next to her.

“Gracie – if you don’t want to listen to it again…you can head downstairs. You don’t have to do this.” Her eyes searched the console in front of her, the stare of her blue eyes far away.

“No…I need to stay.” She shook her head, pushing her attention back to the present. “I’m responsible for them, Mr. Llewllyn. When the time comes…I have to be the one who tells them what happened to their families. My parents told me stories of having to stand up against raiders and the rest of them.” She tightly shook her head, determined. “I won’t run away, Falcon. They don’t get to scare me, and they sure as heck don’t get to scare the others.”

He kept his eyes on her for a moment longer. Whatever had come before for this girl and her family, it had been enough to build the courageous strength that she wielded like a practiced shieldmaiden of old. “Then let’s play it.”

“Bunden III to Bunden II, are you seeing this?” The sounds in the background amounted to a lot of shouting and what sounded like panic in the voice of whoever was speaking.

“Bunden II here, we are! Secure your people and get them below ground! Take cover…and quickly.”

Then the voice of the enemy broke through.

“Rimward residents. You are alone. So very alone. We have done this with great intention, and you will not be finding help from your friends and allies. You are cut from them, and we will cut you if needed. You cannot hope to stop us or push us back. We will take what is ours. And we will have it – willingly or unwillingly. This is your one warning, the only mercy you will receive from the Vaadwaur Supremacy. Prepare to surrender…or prepare to die.”

“Bunden III to Vaadwaur Supremacy – we are not a military station! We are two colonies in the rimward of Federation Space. We are not a threat to you!” Falcon could hear the slight note of desperation slipping into the voices. They were probably looking up who the Vaadwaur Supremacy was to help them communicate. Falcon wished they had known better. He wished they had understood the futility of what was coming.

The chilling voice of the enemy returned, more dismissive than ever. “The Vaadwaur Supremacy does not care. You will bow to us and our might. You will serve us through your blood and sweat. You will not cry tears of sadness. You will weep with tears of joy at being freed from this…Federation. You will become the things beneath us. You cannot hope to resist us, you foolish little humans.”

“Bunden III here – we don’t have anything you want! Our fields barely support our people! There are plenty of Starfleet people to be angry with at Montana Station. They’re the enemy if you’re looking to punch someone.”

The Vaadwaur voice snarled, “Oh, we know about them. We have plans for them. Plenty of plans. But you…you are ours. Surrender, or you will know pain.”

The voice from Bunden II broke in, “This isn’t fair! We came here to get away from all of this…who are you to…”

“We are The Vaadwaur Supremacy. You will now learn what that means.” There was a quiet silence in the recording, and Falcon noticed Gracie’s head was in her hands. He closed his eyes. This was where it happened. He put his hand on her trembling shoulder. She moved her hand on top of his.

“No! What have you done!” A harried collection of voices was heard in the background. “You…you…killed them.”

“The Vaadwaur Supremacy has spoken. Will you continue to interrupt, or will you surrender? Words from humans are worthless to us. They lower your value to us with each sentence you speak.”

There was a tremendously long silence. In the end, a tired voice replied, “We surrender.”

“Good. Wise choice, human. We shall begin the transformation of your colony immediately. Have your people lined up in the square…for inspection.” The channel closed, and Falcon sat in the quiet ambience of the station’s consoles. A few minutes later, Gracie sat up, her eyes red.

Her voice was unsteady as she lamented, “I don’t know what happened after that. I haven’t been able to crack their ship-to-ship communications without them knowing we’re here.” She took a tissue from the console and wiped her eyes clear. “I can’t lose any more. The weight of the 750…that’s too much. I can’t think about it or I’ll slow down…or just lie down. I can’t let them win. I can’t let them pull me down.”

Falcon leaned forward. “This happened before?”

A small nod, “Raiders, Orion Syndicate…you name it. When Montana Station started to be built, things got better. A lot better. It was the best thing that happened to us. A few years of relative peace in the shadow of a station like that…you forget how much it hurt…until you get reminded.” She grumbled, “Stupid Vaadwaur.” She glanced at him. “We need to get Montana’s attention.” Gracie stared at the communications console, tapping at the buttons, “We need something they won’t be looking for…that can get across the blackout…and let them know.” She searched the database and gasped, “Morse!”

Falcon’s smile widened, “Now, that’s an engineer at work. You know Morse Code?”

She went to work on the console, “We learned it as kids out here – if we got lost…or something happened to our regular channels…we were taught how to use it—lots of practice.” She caught his smile and she replied with her own, “You think it’ll work?”

“Gracie – our chances of survival just increased…and with it our chances of getting the hel…heck out of here.”

“It’s OK, Mr. Llewllyn. You can swear. I’m not very good at it. Can you teach me?”

“To swear?”

“Hell yes.” Her face went pink with embarrassment. “Was that right?”

He chuckled, “Let’s get our message put together, and check on the rest of our crew. Then…maybe I can teach you a few words.”

Gracie Lothan’s smile went even wider.