“I really hope you’re just being overzealous,” Atil’ika announced to the bridge as she strode out of the forward turbolift. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more.”

“I do not believe I am ever overzealous,” Kosh muttered from the central seat as he calmly stood to meet his superior. “I am offended by the suggestion that I am ever even zealous.”

“It’s basically your signature Kosh,” Atil’ika replied as she joined him at the centre of the elegant command centre. Lush carpets and wood panelling stretched out in long arcs around the room, a significant improvement and one more befitting the elegant ship over the compact standard bridge that was Ascension’s original model.

A smattering of barely audible agreements crept across the bridge but were quickly silenced by a round of icy looks from the tall Vulcan man.

“I believe caution is the logical option over optimism. I do not believe that is a negative character trait.” He insisted as his eyes narrowed toward Atil’ika.

“That remains to be seen, sitrep?”

“Do you wish to wait for the Captain?” Kosh enquired with a paltry attempt at innocence. The question itself was inoffensive, the intention behind it less so, and Atil’ika knew it was another in a long line of statements driven by the man’s lack of respect for her. She had no idea why he had such little faith in her skills; most days, she simply put it down to the man’s arrogance, but she worried the lack of respect ran deeper in his veins to an archaic xenophobia.

“He’s currently somewhere between pastries and coffee, so he might be a moment. I’ll do my best in his stead.” Atil’ika replied caustically. Now wasn’t the time to pull him up on his tone, especially not if there was something actually amiss.

For his part, Kosh seemed unbothered by the lingering animosity and motioned to the viewscreen where the cluster of following civilian craft was now the centre of attention. Twelve vessels had joined Ascension overnight, all broadcasting messages of praise and goodwill to their teenage passenger. None presented a tactical threat, and after a few strongly worded messages, all had maintained a respectful distance on the ship’s aft quarter.

“Twenty minutes ago, three ships began to break away from the convoy’s flight pattern. Their deviation was minor at first, but in the last few minutes, they have begun approaching closely. They are now within three hundred kilometres.” Kosh motioned to a trio of ships ahead of the pack, slowly approaching like players in some perverse version of grandmother’s footsteps..

“Have we told them to back off?” Atil’ika took several steps forward till she stood next to the operations stations. “Maybe they’re just super fans.”

“We have transmitted instructions but got no response, or change in activity.” The young human woman at ops replied.

“They are now well within our security cordon.” Kosh interrupted as he took a step forward to join the XO.

The Andorian woman felt another caustic statement rising in the back of her throat, but caught the words before they escaped her lips. The cordon had been another example of Kosh’s overealousness. Whilst en route to their pick-up, he had petitioned for a number of increased security precautions, despite a lack of obvious threats. The Captain had dismissed most, but the security cordon had stuck, in Nemros’s words, ‘it couldn’t hurt’.

“Open a channel,” Atil’ika instructed as she returned to the cluster of chairs, nestled in the stretching oaken arms of the bridge. With a creak of her hips, she settled into the centre chair.

A slight nod from the woman at ops signalled a channel was open and transmitting.

“This is Commander Atil’ika of the USS Ascension. You have crossed into our security cordon. Reduce your speed and increase your distance immediately.” She tapped the curving end of the chair absentmindedly whilst she awaited a response.

Thirty seconds later, none was forthcoming, and she felt her antenna give a nervous twitch.

“Kosh, tactical analysis.” She announced without turning to the rear of the bridge, where she knew the man now stood.

“Three Vahklas class freighters. They are fairly common in the region due to their robustness and dependability.” Kosh’s smugness was almost palpable despite his complete lack of any association with the shipyards that made them. “They do not appear to be unusual in any way.”

“Old though, correct?” Atil’ika probed; older ships were not uncommon amongst civilian merchants, but these were almost artifacts. A small voice inside warned her that some had called Ascension the same, yet her presence here was a testament to her enduring capability..

“They fell out of mainstream use late in the 22nd century, though many continue to operate well beyond their expected lifespan due to excellent construction methods,” Kosh replied, a tone of smugness still hanging in his voice.

“Armament?” Atil’ika’s antennae were still twitching, setting the skin of her crown crawling.

“I am not detecting any additional weapons over standard low-yield particle beams. The Vulcan High Command were very particular about trading ships with minimal tactical capability. They would not be a match for us.”

“Even with three of them?”

“Three may be a challenge.” Kosh ascended. “But not much.”

Atil’ika tapped the chair’s arms again. A small challenge is still a challenge, and things were already a bit squirrly with their disappearing Yomaji. Something felt amiss; perhaps Kosh wasn’t simply being overzealous; the man had a reputation for keen tactical strategy despite his arrogance.

“Range?”

“They are within one hundred and fifty kilometres.” A voice replied.

“Helm, increase speed to warp six.”

There was no physical indication of Ascension’s leap in speed, though Atil’ika swore she felt a slight rumble in the deck plates beneath her feet as the ship’s nacelles ran hotter. On the viewscreen, the trio of vessels stuttered suddenly as they fell away.

“Keep an eye-” Atil’ika began, but Kosh’s voice cut across her.

“-Targets closing again, Five hundred thousand, four-fifty-”

“Increase to warp Seven!” Atil’ika announced, her voice elevating as her antennae began to writhe.

“-three hundred-”

“Massive gravimetric distortion detected,” the woman at operations announced, her hands turning into a blue of activity. “The warp field is beginning to collapse.”

“-two hundred thousand-”

“Detecting an object ahead.” A squat tellerite woman announced from the helm.

“-one hundred thousand-”

“We are dropping out of warp,” Ops announced as the deck shook suddenly, the sudden deceleration surprising the ship’s inertial dampeners.

On the view screen, the familiar streaks of starlight suddenly stopped, suspended like fireflies in the inky amber of space.

“The targets are dropping out of warp; they are approaching at full impulse. I am detecting multiple weapons signatures.” Kosh’s tone was edged with concern and surprise in equal measure, but was quickly dismissed into the ether. “They are moving to engage us.”

Atil’ika felt like her antennae might leap from her skull and fall flailing in a frenzy to the deck, partly because she now owed the arrogant Vulcan tactical officer an apology.

“Remind me of this next time I accuse you of being overzealous, Kosh. Red Alert!”