The Phoenix had used the long months since her arrival at Vega well. What had started as a simple patrol to let the crew familiarise themselves with their new ship and keep them all out of trouble had found the Romulans trying to breach UEC borders along a human backwater. When they had thwarted the Romulans’ offensive, the enemy had tried again and again, and humanity’s only choice had been to start bolstering the defences – permanently.

One of those defences was the expansion of Vega’s orbital weapons emplacements. What had once been an improvised arrangement of strapping phase cannons to weather satellites had expanded, and been particularly bolstered with the arrival of the Vostok and the Freedom, both ships packed with the material and manpower to develop this infrastructure. No more was Vega protected by such ad hoc arrangements but permanent facilities in orbit, at the periphery of the system, at key defence points, bristling with firepower to provide a warm welcome.

The most significant of these facilities had once been the orbital traffic management platform. Now it had been expanded to become a small but impressive station, even if it was largely made of scrounged material, with hulks strapped on to provide power and space. Its official designation was Vega-1, but everyone, from the Starfleet task group now permanently assigned to the sector to the militia who now resembled a passable fighting force, called it the Rookery.

Nominally the Rookery was under the authority of the governor of Vega, who handed the day-to-day to the militia, but its biggest meeting rooms and management facilities had fallen into the hands of Starfleet. Lopez had long ago spared staff – in her case, Lieutenant Shepherd and Ensign Corrigan – to run the improvised strategic operations office of the Rookery, as had the skippers of the Vostok and the Dragonfly.

It was with those skippers, Commander West, and Lieutenant Shepherd that Lopez met now in the cramped, dim-lit strategic operations centre. The main pool-table display dominated the room, shining now with their most up-to-date strategic map of the Vega theatre.

Captain Nwadike was a large, broad-shouldered man, deep-voiced and sombre in comportment and not particularly deferential to Lopez’s position as CO of the most powerful ship in the theatre, perhaps out of – in Lopez’s view – over-confidence in the capabilities of his own Intrepid-class Dragonfly. ‘A resupply station.’

‘It explains why they’ve been able to keep throwing ships out here; they’ve got the infrastructure to repair, resupply, and maintain task groups in the whole area.’ Lopez ran a finger along the display to expand it, the view narrowing in on an area just beyond the fuzzy blue aura that represented Starfleet’s nominal control. ‘Fighting in Vega isn’t easy for the Romulans; they’ve got a long way to go, especially if they don’t want to be intercepted by UEC forces on the spinward border.’ She gestured a vague loop, suggesting incoming Romulan ships would need to approach on a coreward curve to reach Vega undetected. ‘This is good news.’

Commander Yang of the Vostok, the youngest and least experienced of the ship captains of Vega, made a face. ‘A Romulan hive in our back yard is good news?’

‘It means their resources aren’t the bottomless pit we keep worrying; they’re not in Vega because they’re magic, they’re in Vega because they’ve got a nearby foothold.’ Lopez looked up at her two colleagues. ‘We need to take this out.’

‘The supply depot,’ said Nwandike gently, ‘that we know about from an Andorian mercenary.’

‘I don’t think he’s a mercenary.’ West had been hanging back, arms folded across his chest. He’d known and worked with Nwadike and Yang before, and his presence in these meetings had been suggested by Admiral Gardner. But no matter how much he knew Starfleet Command expected him to oversee Lopez and act as a backstop, he had taken great pains over the last few months to never contradict her in public. Even though he shared Nwadike’s apprehension, he could at least butt in with a constructive opinion.

‘He said he was hired by his government to come out here,’ Nwadike pointed out.

‘He would. He wanted to seem legitimate enough for us to take his information seriously, but I’ve studied his ship, its equipment, him. I think he’s Andorian Imperial Intelligence.’ West shrugged. ‘I’ve met some of them before, and he is way too-well equipped for a one-man merc show.’

Lopez gave him a slightly indignant look, clearly wrong-footed by this news, but she turned to her colleagues with a brazen grin like it was all part of the plan. ‘Is that trustworthy enough for you?’

‘An Andorian intelligence officer directing us to a Romulan resupply base so we take the brunt of this fighting and the Empire continues to not?’ mused Yang. ‘Not really.’

‘There’s no reason for the Andorians to send forces out here,’ said Lopez. ‘I don’t love them shoving their thumbs up their asses this war neither, but this looks to me like they’ve sent a spy who’s scouted out the region and is bringing us a prime opportunity we’ve not had for months. We keep bloodying Romulan noses and sending them packing, and they keep bouncing back. Now we know why!’

Nwadike clicked his tongue. ‘Let’s look at this location.’

West stepped in there, as the officer who had conducted the initial analysis of Tharan’s information. ‘The resupply base is located in orbit of the fourth planet in the Gliese 47 system; that star’s a magnetar, and its magnetic fields mean we’ve never had success scanning it with long-range sensors.’

Yang frowned. ‘The Romulans must have some pretty impressive magnetic shielding to keep supplies, people, a base that close to a magnetar.’

‘According to Tharan, the base uses manoeuvring thrusters to permanently keep on the dark side of the gas giant. That provides a significant amount of protection, on top of whatever equipment they have,’ West pressed on. ‘I wouldn’t suggest living there, but if they rotate staff in and out – or simply don’t care, I guess – they can keep their people and their ships around the supply base for months at a time.’

‘The good news,’ said Lopez, ‘is that just as our sensors don’t easily pierce the magnetic field of Gliese 47, they can’t have very good early-warning systems. Even if they stick patrol ships out there, we might spot them.’

‘Alright,’ said Nwadike, guarded. ‘So we have the location and some of the nature of this supply base. What’re its defences? How many ships are around it?’

West grimaced. ‘We don’t have a complete picture. Tharan slipped into the system, picked up the Romulan presence, and jumped away again before he could be spotted; he stumbled on the area by complete luck. But it does look like the base has armaments and there were at least two ships in the area.’

‘When he was there,’ Lopez said quickly. ‘It’s a supply base, it’ll have ships coming and going.’

Nwadike looked at her. ‘You want to launch a strike.’

‘You’re damn right I do,’ she said, straightening. ‘Wars are won on supply lines. This is the Romulan nest by our front door. We take this out, they can’t keep nipping at our heels across our borders. I’m sick of playing defence, or cat and mouse. For the first time in months, we can take the fight to them.’ She pointed at the display. ‘With our four ships, we can -’

‘We have no real idea what we’ll be up against there,’ Nwadike reminded her.

‘And the Freedom is still on long patrol,’ said Yang. ‘Not to mention that in less than two weeks, the Buran is here.’

Lopez blew out her cheeks. ‘Alright,’ she said at last. ‘Reconnaissance. We take most of our forces out, stick our noses somewhere with purpose, and maybe that’ll draw Romulan attention away. Then someone hops in proximity to Gliese 47 and takes a looksie.’

‘Good idea,’ said Nwadike. ‘The Dragonfly can -’

‘Only the Phoenix has sensors powerful enough to pierce the magnetic field and keep a decent distance,’ Lopez cut him off. ‘The sixth planet is a class-I; with the planet’s own magnetic field as strong as it is, that should disrupt the scans of anyone trying to detect us. We can do recon at our leisure.’ She lifted her hands at the guarded gazes of Nwadike and Yang. ‘Then by the time I report back, the Buran will be here, and we can use our intel to do a sudden strike, all five ships. Take out this supply base, and we win the Vega theatre.’

Nwadike straightened and looked at Shepherd. ‘Lieutenant, can you show us the latest intel on Romulan ship movements?’

Shepherd slipped from the shadows to advance on the central display. ‘I received a data packet from the Freedom this morning,’ she said, and tapped a few commands to overlay the intel on the examination of the Gliese 47 vicinity. ‘We have very few confirmed hits of Romulan ships, but a series of potentials.’

He looked down at the information, and scratched his chin. ‘If we reach out to Commander Khaldun about this cluster of activity here,’ he said, gesturing to a spot, ‘and see if we can confirm any Romulan presence, then I can take the Dragonfly to join him and we can start some trouble. Maybe let Phoenix slip in the back door.’

Yang looked reluctant, but nodded. ‘Vostok can hold down the fort here at Vega.’

Lopez clapped her hands together with delight. ‘It’s a master plan.’

Nwadike’s dark eyes snapped up to meet hers. ‘We should be careful of information from what we only think is an Andorian intelligence operative, acquired under less-than-ideal circumstances.’

‘Really? I was thinking of waltzing in and forcing a billion Romulan ships to dance with me.’ She took a step back, and looked to Shepherd. ‘You and Corrigan are back on Phoenix, kids. I need all hands on deck for this, and you’ve got the best strategic eye now for if something changes.’

A nervous glint re-entered Shepherd’s gaze. She had, West thought, been quite happy being starbase-bound, able to turn her excellent knowledge of astrophysics to assess the unknowns and gaps in strategic affairs. It was fewer degrees outside of her comfort zone than being on the bridge of a starship in battle. But she nodded. ‘I’ll, ah, wrap up here and arrange the handover to Lieutenant Zikaultsky.’

West gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder as he went to follow Lopez out. ‘I’ll see you aboard,’ he said softly, gave polite nods to Nwadike and Yang, and left the room with his captain.

They were halfway down the corridor before Lopez sighed. ‘Go on.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know what you didn’t say in there, but there’s something. Only fair I let you get it off your chest after you played good boy in front of other people, so everyone thinks we’re one big happy family. I’d hate for you to keep feelings inside until you die.’

West bit his lip, frustrated at the suggestion he kept up appearances for anyone’s sake but hers and the mission’s. ‘You don’t want to just do recon.’

‘I do not,’ said Lopez. ‘But Nwadike won’t budge on this. For someone who considers himself oh-so-serious, he is the most conservative, gutless captain I’ve met in a while.’

‘We don’t know what the situation is at Gliese 47.’

‘I know. Which is why we should ask Tharan to come with us; he’s the only person who’s been near that magnatar, he managed to get close and slip away undetected. It’s the least he can do for us saving his ass.’

‘I’ll ask,’ he said, trying to smother uncertainty. ‘He seemed pretty keen for us to take a chunk out of the Rommies.’

‘With him as a guide, we can get close enough to take a look at the base. And we’ll see what opportunities arise.’

West’s chest tightened. ‘We can’t tell the others we’re just going to do recon, then get there and decide it’s actually time to launch an assault.’

‘If we’re lucky and Nwadike and Khaldun successfully draw away a bunch of Romulan forces by going looking for trouble, it might be the best chance we get to blow this supply base off the map,’ she pointed out. ‘Sure, we could wait for the Buran and go in force, but five ships rocking up to that system will be spotted a mile away. Sometimes you’ve got to be a bit tricksy.’ At his expression, she waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m not saying we’re going to do it. I just want a look, West. I swear.’

The most damning thing, West thought as he followed his captain back towards the docking port to return to the Phoenix, was that he believed Lopez meant it. He just didn’t believe, by now, that she wouldn’t be like a dog chasing a car if she smelled opportunity or glory – or, most importantly, the chance to prove her detractors wrong. Whatever the cost.