The Wandering Wolf dodged and weaved through the incoming fire under the expert hands of Tareya Khorlett.  They had been making good progress over the last day as they made for Montana Station.  A group of Cardassian mercenaries had halted that progress.  “They’re getting better at their aim,” she grumbled.

“Someone’s upgraded their warp drives.”  Hasara scowled as he ran sensors over the ships.  It had been the only explanation – they’d made it nearly a day faster to intercept them.

The younger Cardassian complained from the helm, “I can only dodge for so long, Hasara.  They’re going to get smarter the longer I evade.”  The ship’s inertial dampeners struggled as she slammed the ship from side to side, escaping the blasts.  “You got a plan B?”

In sickbay, Juliet Woodward gripped the counter, the ship pushing and pulling at the forces of gravity.  She glanced at the newest member of Hasara’s crew, Taya Monroe.  She knew little of the woman, but her competence as the doctor overseeing the irregular crew seemed functional.  Juliet wasn’t wearing her Starfleet uniform and had adopted the mercenary look the rest of the group was sporting.

Taya was scared.  No, she was terrified.  Having served her Starfleet career on a base, the only combat she’d experienced were training simulations in the holodeck.  Though realistic, they were still simulations.  This was real.  In all her past jobs and ship time on other freighters, they had always avoided being under fire.  Even dealing with gangs on Dozaria Colony wasn’t like this.  Still, there was an odd thrill about it.  The danger made her feel more alive than she’d felt in a long time.

The deck shuddered again, and Juliet grimaced as she set her feet to stay standing.  She gasped, “Hell of a way to start the first voyage of the Wandering Wolf.”  The look on Monroe’s face was full of terror.  Juliet attempted to reassure her.  “Hasara’s got a reputation for coming back alive and in one piece.”  The deck shook again, and sparks erupted from a nearby console.  She amended her statement.  “That includes crew and passengers, to be clear.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Taya, her voice steady, but unsure.

Another impact, this one thundered on the shields and slammed into the hull.  Lights flickered and the sound of EPS conduits exploded throughout the ship, along with a high pitched shout followed by a scream.  Woodward held up her hand, “I’ll check it out – that sounded like Gracie.  Get what you can ready.”  Juliet was off at a run.

Taya went to work to prepare for whatever was coming.

There was a clatter, some more shouts, and then the figure of Juliet Woodward carrying an unconscious Lothan.  Blood from wounds covered her arms, and burns scarred her face. With a groan, Juliet laid the young woman on the lone bio bed.  Woodward glanced at  Taya, “You’re the lead doc here – I’ve got medical through my counseling – assisting is the best I can do.”

Taya’s instinct kicked in, and she slipped a tricorder into her hands.

The deck under Hasara’s feet shuddered as the enemy started to tighten their grip.  He muttered, “She’s late.”

Tareya pushed the Wandering Wolf’s engines, “Who’s late?”  Suddenly, an alarm sounded from the console.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Hasara grinned, “That is my plan B.”

In front of them, the sleek and angry form of the USS Gagarin dropped into the sector and turned towards them, phasers erupting out and above the civilian freighter.  The screen flickered.  Captain Helena Dread’s amused face appeared.  “Let us take the heat off.  Pretend to run away; we’ll shoot some phasers over your bow.  I’m sure you can find a way to play along, Hasara.”  The channel cut.

Taraya grumbled, “Great.  Starfleet.”

Hasara chided her, “We’ll live to hunt our targets.  Let’s put on a show.”