The Serenity bobbed and weaved through the Minara Nebula, nimbly sidestepping ion strikes and subspace fissures that threatened to tear it apart. As dangerous as it was, the turbulence of this nebula was preferable to the dragnet of Jem’Hadar fighters and cruisers that hunted for them outside of it.

“Registering another surge, port side, danger close.”

Lieutenant Selik banked the ship hard to starboard.

“Adjust pitch thirty degrees. Now!”

The flight controller reacted fast, pulling the ship upward, narrowly missing a gravitational eddy that would have flipped them stern over bow and dragged them down into a subspace fissure below their keel.

The entire bridge crew was exhausted and on edge. Lieutenant Selik had been at this intricate dance for the last ten hours, ever since the Serenity had fled into the nebula. In ideal times, he would have handed the controls off hours ago, but his spatial acuity was unmatched among the Serenity’s small Flight Control department, and he knew that the probability of success reduced dramatically in the event that anyone else took the helm.

Admiral Reyes, for her part, remained on the bridge as well. There wasn’t much she could do to help, as she wasn’t a pilot, a navigator, or a tactical officer, but she knew her presence was vital from a morale perspective. “TAO, status report on our friends outside?”

“Still lingering on the periphery. They’re not stupid enough to follow us in,” the Ensign at tactical reported bluntly. He didn’t mean for it to come across so negatively, but this was insane. “Heaviest disposition near our entry point, but a couple assets have ringed the circumference of the nebula.”

“Gator, can you find us an exit point appropriately distanced from any Jem’Hadar asset?”

“Stand by,” replied the Petty Officer at the navigation console as he ran some calculations, taking into account the larger storms and anomalies that lay ahead of them. “Yes, I think I’ve got one.”

“Route it to conn.”

Lieutenant Selik multi-tasked abrupt adjustments to pitch, yaw and roll to avoid incoming hazards as he reviewed the zigzag pattern that the navigator had developed to dodge the worst of the turbulence. He took a deep breath. This was going to be a long day. “I can make this work,” Selik reported back to the Admiral.

“ETA?”

“Four hours. Assuming the Jem’Hadar do not fundamentally alter the disposition of their forces between now and then.”

“Do you need a break?” Admiral Reyes asked. Although Selik’s stoic Vulcan composure didn’t show it, she could tell how exhausted he was. She debated having him relieved, but there was a delicate balance between pushing her best pilot to his limits and pushing him beyond them.

“Not necessary or advisable.” He could power through. Logic dictated that he, in a tired state, would be better than a more novice pilot in a fully awake state. With Ensign Rel on gone as part of Lewis’ away team, there was no one that came close to what he could do. “Adjusting heading to match new track.”

In sharp contrast to the chaos of the Serenity’s bridge, morning aboard the Type 11 shuttle was a lazy, relaxed affair as they dangled quietly next to the Dominion communications array. Elyssia Rel, Ayala Shafir and Jace Morgan had all caught some shuteye while Commander Lewis kept watch through the night, and they’d just swapped him out so he could get some rest.

Ensign Rel sat at the conn watching the sensors, while Chief Petty Officer Shafir and Lieutenant J.G. Morgan dissected the data stream coming off the now-compromised array.

“This is absolutely incredible,” Morgan remarked. “I’m getting live status reports from a Breen Plesh Tral in hot pursuit of a Phoenix class ship.” He thought about the crew of that small corvette. How the hell would they deal with a Breen heavy raider? “At least there’s no return receipt that any other Dominion or Breen vessels are responding to support.” That meant maybe, just maybe, they might escape. Otherwise though, their names would be added to the ever growing casualty list of brave officers who had lost their lives in this bloody conflict.

“Check this out,” Shafir interjected, not even processing what Morgan was saying given what she had just stumbled across. “Live updates from a Jem’Hadar battleship engaged in a battle with our ships over Izar.”

“How’s it looking?” asked Morgan, pulling himself away from the Phoenix’s plight, hoping the Chief would have better news to share. Izar was a centerpiece of the Deneb Sector, and just like the Polaris had been dispatched to Nasera with a small squadron, a squadron of Fourth Fleet vessels had been deployed for the assault on Izar.

“Well, it was going badly for us for a while. The casualty report isn’t going to be pretty,” Shafir sighed as she thought back to their own battle. Nine hundred and thirty five was the latest count from Nasera, one sixth of the USS Polaris’s crew including three of her ASTRA labmates and four of her Hazard Team teammates. The report from Endeavour Squadron would probably be no better.

“For a while, you said?” Morgan asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” explained Shafir. “Latest blast from the Jem’Hadar battleship was an all-sector request for assistance as it looks like some Starfleet and Cardassian reinforcements arrived to turn the course of the battle.”

“Are any Dominion or Breen assets responding?”

“Not that I see so far,” Shafir said thankfully. “But it’s also possible that a task order didn’t go across this relay. We only have one supernode under our control. We need the Serenity to get back soon so we can commandeer a few more.” That was what would truly change the face of the battle, if only the Serenity could survive the pickle it had put itself in.