Ever since the war with the Borg, and especially since Parker had left to command the Endeavour, Alfie had rarely slept in his quarters. The large two-floor suite had become too empty, too full of rooms that remembered conversations which no longer happened. After Preston left for Starfleet Academy three years ago, it had become worse. Even the photographs seemed to stare back at him from too far away.

As a result, he had started using the pull-out bed in his ready room between shifts. It was practical, or at least that was what he told himself. Athena had questioned him about it more than once, as had Will, both of them careful, as people became when they knew they were approaching something painful. Alfie had ignored them. He was closer to the bridge there. Better prepared if something went wrong during the night.

And something did.

After finally falling asleep, which had become a rare victory these days, Alfie was woken by the red-alert klaxon tearing through the ready room. He shot upright, blinking hard against the crimson pulse of the alert lights before pushing the sheets away from him. Within seconds, he had swung his legs over the side of the bed, dragged on his uniform trousers, pulled his undershirt over his head and thrown his arms into his jacket. His boots came next, then a hurried attempt to flatten his hair in the reflection of a nearby panel. It did little good.

He unlocked the ready room doors and strode onto the bridge, still fastening the front of his jacket. “Report,” Alfie said.

Lieutenant Eddim Horin stood from the captain’s chair almost immediately. The Betazoid pilot cleared his throat, already moving aside. “Sir, we’ve got incoming targets. A Kazon flotilla.”

Alfie wanted to sigh, but Eddim knew him well enough by now to read the irritation before it escaped. “How many, and what type?”

Eddim returned to the helm as he answered. “Seventeen ships. Four Predator-class vessels, and the rest are raiders in several different configurations.”

Alfie rubbed the heel of his hand against his temple as the port turbolift doors hissed open. Athena and Will stepped onto the bridge, both looking as exhausted as he felt, though Athena had already pulled her expression into something close to command-ready by the time she reached him. Will, predictably, looked less interested in hiding it.

“Uninvited guests?” Will asked as he sat down to Alfie’s left.

Alfie nodded toward the tactical overlay now filling the main viewscreen. “The Kazon want to crash our party before the incoming Odyssey Squadron gets here.”

They all knew about the Starfleet ships heading towards them. They also knew there was nothing they could do about it. Their Odyssey remained heavily damaged, still without warp power or quantum slipstream drive. All they had was half impulse and thrusters, and even those were being held together by engineering stubbornness and the kind of luck Alfie no longer trusted.

Athena studied the incoming readings for several seconds. “I think we can defend ourselves against them.”

“That many ships, in the state we’re in?” Will asked, looking across at his wife.

Athena gave him a brief glare before turning back to Alfie. “Our isokinetic cannons are powerful enough to rip through their shields and hulls. They’re at least fifty years behind our technology. We take out the four larger ships first, and I’ll be surprised if the raiders stay much longer without that heavy firepower behind them.”

Alfie hated how reasonable that sounded. He hated more that he was already considering it. They still had a mission to complete, and the Kazon would slow them down if they inflicted any serious damage.

“Plot a firing solution, Number One,” he decided. “However, I want to try a diplomatic approach first.”

Athena’s surprise showed before she could hide it. “You want to speak to them?”

Alfie nodded. “Yes. We have enough enemies in this reality.”

“Easier said than done, Alf,” Athena muttered, though she still opened the channel to the lead Kazon ship. “Channel is open.”

The face that appeared on the viewscreen belonged to a man who looked as if he had spent his entire life mistaking aggression for authority. Broad-shouldered, heavy-jawed and dressed in layered Kazon clothing, he stared at Alfie with open contempt before the channel had even fully stabilised. Behind him, other Kazon moved across a cramped bridge, shouting orders over one another with all the discipline of a raiding party that had found something valuable and already started arguing over who owned it.

“I am Third Maje Rulet of the Kazon-Nistrim-Nor,” the man declared. “You command the damaged Federation vessel.”

Alfie stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am Captain Alfie McCallister-Reyas-Hart of the Federation starship U-S-S Odyssey. Your ships are approaching a restricted tactical perimeter. Alter course immediately.”

Rulet’s mouth twisted into a grin. “You give orders from a crippled ship.”

“I am issuing a warning from one that can still defend itself.”

Athena glanced down at her console. “Their forward vessels are powering weapons.”

Alfie did not look away from Rulet. “Third Maje, we are not here to threaten your people. Leave this area and no harm will come to your ships.”

Rulet laughed, a rough sound that drew answering grins from the Kazon around him. “Your engines are dead. Your shields are weakened. You are alone. You speak like a warrior with a blade to his enemy’s throat, but I see only a wounded animal. Your ship alone will ensure the full Nistrim sect returns to this region and reigns supreme.”

Will shifted beside Alfie, his voice low enough that only those near the command chairs could hear him. “He wants you angry.”

“I know,” Alfie replied quietly. “He’s getting it.”

Rulet leaned closer to his viewer. “You will surrender your vessel. Your crew will be taken. Your technology will serve the Nistrim. If you obey, some of your people may live.”

Alfie felt the bridge become still around him. No one spoke. No one moved. Even the damaged systems seemed to hum more quietly beneath the threat. “You are making a mistake,” Alfie said.

“No,” Rulet answered, arrogance sharpening every word. “I am claiming a prize.”

Athena’s fingers moved across her console one more time. “Their targeting sensors have locked onto us.”

“Third Maje,” Alfie continued, keeping his tone even, “you cannot capture this vessel. You cannot survive a direct engagement with us. I am giving you the chance to withdraw because I do not want to destroy your ships.”

Rulet’s grin widened. “Federation mercy. Federation weakness.”

Something cold settled behind Alfie’s ribs. Not rage, not yet. Decision. “Athena,” he said without looking away from the screen, “target the nearest Predator-class vessel. Isokinetic cannons only. Disable if possible.”

Athena hesitated for less than a second. “Target locked.”

Will looked up sharply. “Alfie.”

“He needs to understand what he is approaching.”

“Then make sure understanding is all you give him,” Will said.

Alfie absorbed the warning without answering it. On the screen, Rulet barked an order to someone off to his side, then turned back with open triumph.

“You are bluffing,” the Kazon said

Alfie’s voice dropped. “Fire.”

The Odyssey answered with terrifying precision. Three pale blue-white pulses erupted from the forward dorsal arrays, crossing the distance before the Kazon could even begin to react. The first impact collapsed the Predator-class warship’s shields in a flare of overloaded energy. The second carved through its forward weapons grid. The third struck the engineering section. For a heartbeat, the Kazon vessel remained intact, glowing from within as if some new sun had been born inside its hull. Then it broke apart, fire and debris scattering through space in a brief, violent bloom.

Silence fell across both bridges.

Alfie let it sit there, ugly and necessary, before speaking again. “That was one vessel. Imagine what I can do to the rest, however, I chose not to fire on the rest of your flotilla, if you agree to return to home port.”

Rulet’s face twisted with fury. “You have murdered loyal Kazon soldiers!”

“You were warned.”

“I will take your ship,” Rulet snarled. “I will tear your command chair from its deck and execute you on it for the deaths of my people.”

Alfie felt Athena glance at him, no doubt waiting to see whether the threat would push him into ending the conversation. It nearly did. Instead, he forced himself to take one slow breath. “Third Maje, listen carefully. We are not from your reality.”

Rulet’s rage flickered, replaced for a second by suspicion. “Federation lies.”

“Conduct a quantum signature scan of this vessel,” Alfie pressed. “You will see that our resonance does not match this universe. We come from an alternative future, from a different quantum reality. I have Kazon serving aboard this ship. Your people fought beside mine against a common enemy.”

Rulet’s eyes narrowed. For one fragile moment, Alfie thought he might have reached him. Then greed replaced doubt.

“If that is true,” Rulet said slowly, “then your ship is a greater prize than I imagined.”

“Do not do this,” Alfie warned.

Rulet lifted his chin. “All ships attack.”

The channel cut, and the viewscreen snapped back to the tactical display as amber markers surged forward.

Athena was already jumping over the bannister and heading towards the tactical station. When she reached it, she automatically read the sensors. “Multiple incoming torpedoes. Disruptor fire from the lead formation.”

“Deploy ablative armour,” Alfie ordered. “Target weapons and engines. Prioritise anyone attempting to board us. No transphasic torpedoes unless I authorise them.”

“Aye,” Athena replied. “Armour deploying.”

The first Kazon volley struck moments later. The bridge lurched enough to send a damaged overhead panel clattering to the deck. Emergency lights flared across the command pit, and a shower of sparks burst from one of the already broken aft consoles before its safety field snapped into place.

Athena cleared her throat. “Ablative armour is holding.”

“Return fire.”

The Odyssey unleashed itself. Isokinetic cannon fire carved through the lead raiders with merciless efficiency. One vessel lost its shields and engines within seconds, tumbling away with atmosphere venting from its port side. Another was cut apart before its boarding clamps could deploy. A third tried to slip beneath the secondary hull and was caught by the ventral cannons, its weapons grid erupting in a chain of small, bright explosions.

“Track disabled vessels and escape pods,” Alfie ordered. “No unnecessary kills.”

Athena’s jaw tightened. “Trying.”

Will looked at him from the neighbouring chair, his expression difficult to read. “That matters.”

Alfie did not answer, but he heard him.

The Kazon pressed harder. Their courage was not in question, only their judgment. They came in waves, firing everything they had, using numbers and momentum to compensate for what their technology lacked. Against any other damaged Starfleet vessel, it might have worked. Against the Odyssey, even wounded, it became slaughter.

“Two raiders disabled, three destroyed,” Eddim reported from the helm. “One of the Predators is falling back. Another is attempting a flanking run across our dorsal plane.”

“Rotate us fifteen degrees starboard,” Alfie ordered.

“Thrusters are sluggish.”

“Give me what you can.”

The ship turned with painful slowness, damaged manoeuvring thrusters fighting against stress fractures and unstable power feeds. Athena used the limited movement well. The Predator-class vessel came into the secondary firing arc, and the Odyssey’s cannons tore into its forward section, ripping through armour, weapons mounts and exposed conduits until the Kazon ship veered away, burning and useless.

“Engineering to bridge!” Commander Jameel’s voice snapped through the speakers, almost buried beneath alarms. “If you want the armour generators to remain online, stop letting them shoot us!”

“I’ll pass that along to the Kazon,” Alfie replied. “Transfer auxiliary powers to the generators.”

“I am serious, Captain. The port-side generator is running hot, the starboard grid is patched through systems that were never meant to carry this load, and I have Jibb holding a plasma bypass together with a hyperspanner and language I refuse to repeat on an open channel.”

“Hold it together, Jameel.”

“That is what I am doing!”

The channel snapped shut.

Will leaned closer, lowering his voice. “This is escalating too quickly.”

“They chose escalation.”

“And you’re choosing precision,” Will replied. “Keep choosing it.”

Alfie glanced at him. The words were not an accusation. They were an anchor. Will had always been good at that, even when Alfie hated having to do it.

“I am,” Alfie said.

For the next few minutes, the battle became an ugly contest between Kazon stubbornness and future Starfleet brutality. The flotilla refused to break, even as their formation collapsed around them. Rulet’s remaining ships drove forward with the desperation of warriors who had realised too late that retreat would make them cowards and continuing would make them dead. One by one, the amber markers vanished from the tactical display. Then Rulet’s lead ship came through the debris field, damaged but still moving, its forward hull scorched, trailing plasma like a torn artery.

“Rulet’s vessel is on a direct approach,” Eddim warned. “His main reactor is overloading.”

Athena’s head snapped up. “He’s going to ram us.”

“Eddim, full rotation port!” Alfie called above the commotion.

“I can’t move us fast enough,” Eddim replied, hands flying across the helm. “Thrusters are responding, but not enough.”

Alfie’s eyes locked on the incoming vessel. “All weapons, target their engines.”

Athena fired without hesitation.

The Odyssey’s forward arrays struck Rulet’s ship again and again, tearing into engines, weapons and exposed power conduits. For a moment, it seemed enough. The Kazon vessel veered, its engines collapsing into secondary explosions. Then two raiders emerged from behind it. Small, fast, already committed. They started to open fire.

“We have raiders on a collision course!” Eddim shouted.

“All hands brace for impact!” Alfie ordered over the intercom.

The first raider struck the forward edge of the chevron section. The ablative armour flared, absorbing the worst of the impact, but the force still drove through the ship like a hammer blow. Alfie slammed into the side of the command chair, pain flashing across his ribs as the bridge pitched under him.

The second raider hit lower, near the damaged port-side armour generator. This time, the lights went out. Darkness swallowed the bridge for one breath before emergency lighting snapped on, bathing everything in red. Alarms screamed. Smoke spilt from an aft station. A conduit spat sparks above the tactical arch. Somewhere behind Alfie, someone cried out in pain.

Alfie dragged himself upright. “Report!”

Athena pulled herself back to her console, blood running from a cut near her hairline. “Kazon vessels neutralised. No active weapons signatures remaining.”

“Rulet?”

Eddim checked the sensor feed, his hands shaking slightly as he worked. “Destroyed.”

“Damage?”

The answer came from engineering, Jameel’s voice rough beneath the static. “We are alive. That is the good news.”

Alfie gripped the back of his chair. “And the bad?”

“Port armour generator is gone. Starboard generator is damaged. Primary plasma routing to impulse control has collapsed. Thrusters are offline. Slipstream remains offline. We can keep life support, internal power and limited tactical systems online, but Captain, we are not going anywhere.”

Alfie looked toward the viewscreen as it flickered through static before resolving into a debris field. Kazon wreckage drifted through space, turning slowly in the dark.

“How long until the Odyssey squadron reaches us?” he asked.

Eddim checked. “At their current speed, approximately three hours.”

“Can we defend ourselves if they attack?”

Athena’s expression answered before she did. “Barely.”

The word landed with more force than any Kazon torpedo.

The Odyssey, his Odyssey, the ship that had survived the Borg, the Gamma offensive and the death of everything he had once believed permanent, was now adrift in a hostile universe with barely enough power to defend itself.

Will stepped toward him. “Alfie…”

“Not now.”

His tone came out sharper than he intended, but he did not apologise. If he did, the anger might crack open into something worse.

Athena looked at him carefully. “Captain, we need to prioritise repairs and prepare for contact with the squadron.”

“I know.”

“Then we need you here.”

Alfie turned to her. “You have the bridge.”

Her expression shifted. “Captain—”

“You have the bridge, Number One,” he repeated.

That ended it.

Athena straightened despite the blood at her temple. “Aye, sir.”

Alfie looked once more at the debris field on the viewscreen. Seventeen Kazon ships had come to take his vessel. Seventeen ships had been reduced to wreckage around them, and somehow they had still managed to trap him here like prey. The humiliation burned. So did the fear beneath it. He would not name that part. Not here.

“Get me a repair schedule in ten minutes,” he said. “I want every available officer working on propulsion, armour generators and the temporal core. No exceptions.”

Athena nodded once. “Understood.”

Alfie turned and walked toward his ready room, each step controlled, each breath measured into something that resembled command. The doors opened before him. He stepped through. Only when they closed behind him did he let the fury and anger show.