The Buran danced, and Ensign Alanna Barker was the leader.  The nimble ship twisted and yawed around the ships and the station, and the Rhode-Island class starship’s flashing fire had initially startled the three Orion Syndicate ships.  They had recovered, and the pressure was increasing. A new stopwatch was rolling above the viewscreen on the bridge.  Mackenzie and Perseverance were four minutes away.  Four minutes to prevent the Federation citizens from being caught in the claws of Syndicate slavery.  Four minutes to poke at the Orions with every pointy stick they could find.

A lot could happen in four minutes.

“Shields at 90%.”  Alanna ducked, weaved, bobbed, and threw the Buran every direction the inertial dampeners would let her.  She pushed them just enough that the meters were flickering yellow to red.  She glanced back at Commander Milton at tactical, an increasingly focused look covering his face.

Ford answered, “We’ve disabled one ship’s warp engines.  Phasers are working on the other two, but they’re getting warmed up.”  The bridge shook slightly as the Syndicate ships caught up with them.  “Permission to engage with torpedoes?”

Helena clenched her teeth.  Sensors showed some merchants were being held on the station and others were on the ships.  Her Hippocratic Oath gnawed at the back of her consciousness.  They needed to bring them all home.

Alive.

“Hold for the moment.  Increase the rate and power of phaser fire.”  Her eyes flicked to the clock.  “You’ve got three and a half minutes, Milton.  Razzle dazzle ‘em a little longer.”  The deck shuddered again as the shields dropped to 80%.  Come on, Walton, she grumbled in her head.  We can’t let them take them.

“Two minutes.”  Lieutenant William Prentice gripped the console, his fingers making slight adjustments as the USS Mackenzie thundered to intercept the under-siege Buran.  Next to him, Ensign Athena Catari recalculated and reworked her tactical threat screens as the sensors updated.  He had watched her eyes light up in fury at the discovery of what had happened to the merchants.  Catari’s parents had lived through the occupation of Bajor.  She took her job seriously, and the look on her face as they got closer and closer reminded him why he’d remained in Starfleet these past few years.

She would not give up on these people.  It wasn’t just her.  Prentice had known most of the senior staff through the years in Montana Squadron and before that.  There was a strong bond across the crew with fighting for the underdog. Especially out in the rimward, he’d discovered.  There was something about this place that made you care beyond the training, the mission, or the academy. Something about this place changed you.  His console beeped, bringing him back.  “One minute, thirty seconds.  Engineering reports damage control teams in place.  Sickbay is finishing up triage assignments.”

He could hear Walton’s even breathing, and he knew she would be sitting just on the edge of her seat, watching the countdown clock, fingers drumming against the seat.

Jake Shaw’s voice spoke from across the bridge at communications.  “Buran is taking a pounding – shields at 70% and holding.”  His face told the story.  Whoever was on the other end of his earpiece wasn’t holding back.  Prentice hadn’t had time to sit down with Shaw because they were all assigned to Mackenzie so quickly.  He seemed smart enough and, to his amusement and slight horror, reminded Will of his early years in the academy.  Brashness and brains was always a mixed bag, and Prentice had learned the hard way.

Another beep from his console and Will said, “One minute.”

“Thirty seconds.”  Lieutenant Hazal Wallaker reported from the science station, which also doubled as the tactical station.  The station against the wall organized the sensors, while the wrap-around console facing forward held the tactical controls of the Pathfinder-class Perseverance.  “Buran’s shields are at 65%.  They’ve disabled one, put a dent in two, but the third Syndicate ship is getting the upper hand.”  Wallaker’s voice was in awe and pride for the Buran crew.

In the center chair, Captain Park scowled as if she could will the ship forward by the force of her stubborn will.  “Tactical, phasers at maximum.  Helm – cover Buran when we drop in – keep her protected.”  It was more than just a fellow Federation starship.  Captain Dread was a friend, and her crew were full of friends as well.  She wasn’t about to let the Syndicate do anything to her friends.

“Coming into range.”  Catrin Williams tapped at the helm console, with an earpiece in her ear for communications.  “Dropping from warp in 3…2…1…”

The sudden appearance of the Excelsior II-class, followed by the sleek Perseverance put the Syndicate back on their heels.  Phaser fire intensified, and within two minutes, they disabled the ships, and the station surrendered.  Captain Park sat back in her chair, relieved.  “Tell me we found them.”

Williams cocked her head to the side as she listened to the incoming reports.  A quiet smile filled her lips.  “Yes, ma’am.  We have them.”

Park echoed her smile.