Maybe she should’ve been more concerned about the weird bubbles and lines that have carved out this little section of the Federation border, cut off completely from the rest of the nation unless someone wanted to break some laws and sprint through Klingon territory. Maybe she should’ve been concerned about the complete lack of communications with any other member of Starfleet. Maybe she should’ve been thinking up a solution to this whole mess.

She was not. Charlie had two things on her mind right now: one, who the hell was Myles C. Fox and why did he have a starport named after him on a backwater colony world too close to Klingon space for comfort, and two, why the hell was Carmen Espinoza so damn good at Uno? Charlie was staring at her mess of cards before her with an almost blank, glazed-over stare, her mind tracing back her steps to try and figure out what mistake, exactly, has led to her becoming a card hoarder, while Espinoza sat on the other side of the table with a machievellan grin, trying to calculate how to get rid of her final three cards.

“Human games fucking suck,” Shymel grumbled as she sank into her chair, dropping her own too-large collection of cards onto the table. “I liked the ice hockey on the holodeck idea better.”

“And be cooped up in the ship still?” Espinoza responded, even as she tossed a draw-two card down on the pile. An audible groan hissed from M’Rakko’s mouth as he snatched up two for his own bunch of cards, but at least the Caitian had less than either Shy or herself. “Listen, at least we’re outside. On solid ground. Fresh air-”

“We’re in a bloody starport, LT,” Charlie interjected.

“-planetside, for once-”

“Kinda prefer being on a ship, honestly,” Rakko commented.

“-sun’s shining, birds’re singing-”

“Again, LT, starport. Only birds ’round here’re bloody pigeons, ‘n they don’ sing.”

“-and we’re avoiding catching cabin fever.”

Shymel just snorted. “I’m sorry, have you seen Oakland? That’s a pretty big ship. I think the only people catching cabin fever is Engineering, and I think they like it.”

“Eugh.” Espinoza’s face wrinkled in disgust, interrupted only momentarily by the roar of engines as a freighter rolled along overhead. “Commander? Your turn.”

“… ach, right.” Charlie frowned at the pile, but at least this time she wasn’t gaining a card. A green 6 slid from her massive collection and was deposited atop. “There. ‘n e’ery one ‘a ya can eat a warp trail.”

“Awh, no need to be a sore loser, Charlie,” Shymel replied with a snicker- which quickly dissolved into frustrated Andorian swearing as she miraculously found neither a green nor a six in her deck. And with one more card added to her pile, the gap between Shy and Charlie closed a little closer.

Maybe, she dared to think, I can win this yet. Or at least not finish dead last-

Everyone’s commbadges buzzed in unison. Charlie’s eyes shot up, bounced between the other three like a deer caught in headlights, found them all doing the same. Ah, shit. “… LT, y’did let th’ cap’n know we were steppin’ off fer a min, right?”

“… yeeeah?” She didn’t sound very confident in herself suddenly. “I think. Probably. Maybe.”

“… ach, bloody ‘ell.” Charlie sank back in her chair with a sigh, tapping her commbadge. “M’Colgan ‘ere.”

“Commander, I know you’re occupied, but get your entire group back on the ship immediately,” Maising’s voice ordered, and he didn’t sound like he was in a jolly mood. “And anyone else you meet on the way. We’re shoving off as soon as possible.”

She didn’t even need to say anything- the other three were scrambling to get up, shove in their seats, gather up their haphazard collection of cards. “… aye, sir. Wha’s the occasion?”

“I’ll tell you once you’re aboard, just get back to the ship.”

“Aye, sir.” To her feet she launched, booting the chair back under the table with a foot. Gathering up her pile of cards and unceremoniously shoving them in Espinoza’s arms, Charlie was off towards Oakland‘s dock in a mad sprint, everyone else hot on their heels.

A trail of Uno cards fluttering out of Espinoza’s arms would be the last marker any of them make on this world.

The fact that Oakland was already at red alert by the time Charlie and the gang rushed down the gangplank and into the waddling old utility cruiser sent a stab of pure fear through her heart. California-class ships should, ideally, never be in a situation that calls for battle stations. And especially not called for battle stations preemptively. That meant they were planning on combat- it wasn’t being forced on them, it was a conscious decision.

A conscious decision that should never be made with a Cali.

The turbolift doors to the bridge almost couldn’t open fast enough for her. Rakko and Espinoza sprinted past to get to their stations, and Charlie hadn’t even made it to her seat yet before the ship lurched around her, docking clamps detached. Myles C. Fox Starport clearly needed some clamp upgrades. She dropped into her seat with a heavy huff, eyes on Maising’s darkened face beside her. “Cap’n?”

She got no further greeting but a nod. “We’re picking up a distress call, Commander, and we’re answering it. The colony in the Narendra system is under attack.”

Charlie nodded along- okay, distress call, someone’s in trouble, and- wait a goddamn second- “Narendra? Cap, ‘less there was a territory exchange in the last month, tha’s a bloody Klingon world!”

“I know.” Resignation dripped from his words as he punched the bridge of his nose, grizzled beard doing well to hide how his lips narrowed into a dark scowl. “Something’s going on- we can’t pick up enough comm traffic to know what, exactly, but any KDF forces in the area are either already tied down or can’t get to Narendra. We’re not the only ones dealing with a warp blackout. But we have no such obstructions- the path to Narendra is clear of anomalies. That’s a sprint we can make.”

“Aye- in a utility cruiser, sir.” Now Charlie’s scowl matched his, and hers couldn’t really be disguised. “We’re nae a Sovvie, Maisin’. We’re takin’ a bloody tugboat out tae fight a battleship.”

“We can’t leave that colony to die.” Maising sighed, steepled his hands, locked on the viewscreen as the starport fell out of view, turning into blue sky, then black space. “There’s no other support in our little pocket of untouched space, MacColgan. It’s us or nobody. Tell me that thought sits right with you.”

Charlie hated that. Hated that he was right. It didn’t- it couldn’t. Klingon or not, Starfleet couldn’t turn away from civilians in need. “… no, sir.”

“Didn’t think so.” The viewscreen turned from black with white dots into a flash, and then those dots streaked by at speed. Oakland shuddered, groaned around them as she accelerated, her old frame making her complaints known as her speed ticked up. Warp five. Six. Six point five. Seven. Seven point two. Seven point nine. Eight.

Eight was the best they could get. And all they could do was hope it’d be enough.

“You always wanted a seat with some action, MacColgan,” Maising murmured, almost as if he didn’t entirely want her to hear. “Here it is. Are you ready for it?”

“… are any ‘a us, sir?”

His silence said everything that needed saying, and not a word further was spoken between them.