Oscuri could feel her stomach protest with acidic venom as Daedalus banked into another tight turn, the angle of which was seemingly enough to push the inertial dampers to their limits. Even here, strapped tightly into her flight chair aboard the waverider shuttle Icarus, she could feel the jealous forces of momentum pulling at the ship. Oscuri glanced through the portal and saw several nearby crates slide slowly across the deck as the docking bay was subjected to Newton’s cruel third law.

She swallowed heavily as she had been taught to do by the grissled Ferengi rockjumper that had been master of their zero-g training in a distant and almost forgotten memory. His scarred and laughing face was now front and centre of her mind’s eye, mocking her as it floated past her with practised ease.

Suddenly, the pressure on her stomach lessened as, with a click that signalled the opening of a comm channel, the voice of the ship’s temporary operations officer filled the runabout’s cockpit.

“Abandoning pass four, standby for attempt five.” A calm voice announced with a musicality wholly unbecoming of their discomfort.

“They should just let us go,” Ole grumbled from the nearby seat where his massive bulk was also strapped into the flight chair, his bulging arms pressing against the fabric straps.

“The moment has to be perfect,” Oscuri chided as her stomach contents breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Foolishly, she had forgotten the rockjumpers’ first rule: don’t eat before you get span around. As the ball of saliva drove itself reluctantly down her throat, she wet her dry lips. “Too soon, and we risk being shot down by the pursuit craft. Too late, and we will overshoot the station and…

“Get shot down by the pursuit craft, I know.” Ole shuffled his buttocks in the chair, causing the safety belt to give an audible groan of protest against his granite muscles. “I still think we should risk it.”

“You are welcome to get out and take a shuttle instead.” Rissikan joked from the pilot’s chair, his round finger poised over the release for the magnetic docking latches.

Oscuri’s stomach protested once again as the world bent backwards against Newton’s genius, the inertial dampers working overtime as Daedalus made another aggressive course change.

“Will someone please change the subject?” She pleaded as her belly grumbled threateningly.

“What do you think is waiting for us?” Rissikan asked the room, with the frustratingly gleeful tone of a pilot in his element. Of all the assembled crew members, he seemed the only one happy to be tossed to and fro by the combat manoeuvres.

Oscuri felt another shift of gravity as she opened her mouth to speak, stealing away her breath.

“Aboard the station? Nothing good.” Commander Sehgali interrupted, her attention clearly elsewhere as her normally bright, friendly face focused on something distant and worrisome.

“I meant after the mission?” Rissikan clarified as he slid a finger beneath his seatbelt and itched his skin through the dark red of his uniform. “Maybe a jaunt to Risa?”

“Oh, margaritas on the beach sounds lovely.” Rhoska mused, misty-eyed from the rear of the cockpit. “With plenty of lime.”

“Ale, and lots of it.” Ole allowed a warm wash of happiness to roll over his face as he envisaged a tall glass of golden nectar with its frothy headpiece.

“Whisky,” Oscuri mumbled between slow, forceful swallows that kept her bubbling stomach at bay. “Lots of whiskey.”

“The things I would do for a proper single malt, wild Gorn couldn’t keep me away.” Rissikan flitted his fists against an imaginary opponent, a pretend snarl spreading across his lips.

“It’d be a tall glass of Red for me.” Anyok chattered through their yellow beak.

“Chateuax Picard?” Rhoska offered with a single raised eyebrow.

“I thought we were meant to be enjoying the drinks?” Anyok replied with a wry smile of her large, golden eyes, sending a welcome wave of laughter across the small room.

“You’re assuming we make it out,” Sehgali muttered with an uncharacteristic pessimism, her attention still fixed on something distant. “Or there will be a Risa to go to.”

An uncomfortable silence slipped into the cockpit, squeezing itself, unwelcome, between the crewmates. It pressed against heads and hearts with a brutish strength far exceeding the pressure of gravity that pushed them into the bulkheads as Daedalus swung tightly once more.

“Why do you say that Commander? This is probably just some lucky pirates.” Rissikan asked as the change in momentum abated and allowed him to speak easily once more. His voice trembled slightly, though from the manoeuvre or a lack of confidence he wouldn’t have admitted, had he even known.

Sehgali shook her head slightly. Her normally wild and exuberant crown of hair was drawn tightly into a bun atop her head, pulling her normally smiling features taught, lending her face a stern and cruel air in the shuttle’s dim lighting. Her voice was a dark reflection of the normally fountain-like optimism that was her signature.

“No, this is part of something bigger, I’m certain of it. Pirates don’t attack a Starfleet facility and leave it to ruin. Pirates don’t enter into a dogfight with an advanced starship. Pirates don’t travel via underspace.” Sehgali announced in a defeated tone. “This is part of something more, something planned and focused.”

“Then other places could be under attack too.” Rhoska realised with quiet panic. Several decades of service with the colonial efforts had garnered him a wide list of friends and loved ones. The thought that any of them, all of them, could be gone was chilling.

“Did you see the sensor reports?” Sehgali was quickly turning into a harbinger of doom, giving voice to a dark possibility that the others hadn’t considered. “They assaulted the station and smashed it, literally, to pieces. They did their damage and left. No explanation, no reason.”

A slight tear began to form in the corner of the commander’s eye.

“It’s terrorism, pure and simple.” She whispered painfully. “And if they did it here, they’ll do it elsewhere too.”

“There may be nothing to find after the mission.”

Another unwelcome silence wedged itself into the cockpit, drawing in all the air and leaving the team breathless as the possibilities filled their brains, so empty from waiting.

Anyok leant over the short distance between her seat and Commander Sehgali, who continued to watch the invisible horizon as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“Indira,” she whispered with a short click of her beak. “What is happening? This isn’t like you.”

“I’m being realistic Anyok.”

“No, you’re being maudlin, we cannot possibly know what is happening beyond this place.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“It also doesn’t mean it is. You are usually so confident, so filled with optimism.” Anyok threw a glance around the room, ensuring her colleagues were not listening to their conversation. The faces she saw were pained and worried, and to think of the possibilities was stomach-churning enough. To do so with no room for escape, strapped into their flight seats, was tantamount to torture.

“What has happened?” Anyok chittered.

“Nothing,” Sehgali insisted, the lie spilling from her lips with worrying ease.

“I don’t believe that.” Anyok’s crest of feathers twitched higher as she surveyed the XO with a sharp eye. “Something isn’t right.”

A chirp of the comm link interrupted her interrogation as the calm voice of the operations officer filled the cockpit again.

“Commencing pass five. Icarus, standby for release.”

“Now is not the time Anyok.” Sehgali hissed through her tear-sodden lips.

“Fine, but do not forget you are responsible for this team. They are less likely to come back from this mission if you fill their heads with dark portents.” Anyok chidded before settling back into her chair and checking the buckles on her seatbelt.

“I don’t know if there is anything to come back for,” Sehgali whispered beneath her breath. Her mind’s eye was etched with the wounded vision of Captain Mellasitox as she had realised their quasi-relationship was over. Great brown eyes that had once swallowed her whole now begged in confusion for a different path.

“Standby. Release in 5…”

She yearned to reach out and run her fingers through her hair. Who cared who saw?

“4…”

But Mellasitox had made her choice.

“3…”

It was done.

“2…”

Completely done.

“1…”

The magnetic docking clamps silently released and Icarus went flying into the void towards the crippled form of K-74, carrying Sehgali and her team into the cruel unknown.