All batteries firing, the Diligent sliced through the enemy line, almost striking a Mansa class escort as it traded blows with anything and everything it had a firing arc on.

“Helm, hard to starboard!” Captain Vox shouted. “Heading 180 at max G!”

Lieutenant Commander Coleman juiced the port impulse drive full forward, and the starboard full reverse, causing the Diligent to spin about in a manner more akin to a nimble starfighter than the 464-meter heavy cruiser that she was. Inertial forces coalesced with the tidal forces of the Underspace’s violent currents, pushing the spaceframe to its limits, but no one balked. It was not the first time they’d pushed the ship to the edge, and it hopefully wouldn’t be the last.

As the ship finished its come-around, Lieutenant Commander Coleman kept his eyes forward and his hands glued to the controls. It took every ounce of focus, balancing yaw, pitch and roll against the ship’s rotation and the Underspace’s turbulence, to avoid a ruthless spin out that would throw them into the energetic and deadly walls of the corridor. This had to be a first, a full-on dogfight between capital ships in the depths of the labyrinth, and even as confident as they were in their skills, it was still borderline insane to attempt.

“Give me the fourteens!” Captain Vox ordered as his eyes locked on their prey. “Fire!”

Commander Ryan Hunt didn’t need to be told twice. He let the big guns go, unloading the two Type XIV phaser cannons. The barrage of energetic nadions slammed into the enemy amidship as the Diligent charged headlong back towards it.

Captain Vox could see its shields shimmering under the pressure. “All batteries, fire!”

Commander Hunt opened up with every forward-facing cannon, emitter and tube. Now the enemy responded too, returning fire with cannons of their own. Nadions crisscrossed polarons, and torpedoes were traded like for like, but this time, they had the edge because this time, they had friends, a hail of disruptor fire tearing past them portside as General Golroth’s cruiser group came about and re-engaged alongside them.

The enemy’s shields were flickering now. “Again, fire!”

A few more daring maneuvers and the fight was over, the two Astika class battlecruisers and the eight supporting Mansa class assault escorts turned to debris and scattered across the eddies of the Underspace. An eerie quiet settled over the bridge. Had it really been that easy?

“Report?” Captain Vox asked as an odd quiet settled over the bridge.

“Enemy ships, all non-com. All ours, accounted for, no notable damage or casualties,” Lieutenant Commander Essinger reported. “Damage control teams en route for minor issues.”

The captain looked at her scrutinously. She’d downplayed the extent of their damage over K’t’inga last time, and while they hadn’t seemed to have taken any hits near that hard this time because the enemy’s fire had been split between too many of them, he wanted confirmation.

“I’m serious this time,” Lieutenant Commander Essinger assured him. “We could go another round or two if needed.” Not that it would be ideal to do so. The point was to get in, deal a damaging blow to the Blackout’s infrastructure, and then pull back to see the effect it had.

“CIC, status of the outpost?” Captain Vox followed up. While their eyes had been on the cruisers and escorts, Commander Jordyn Kerrigan, from her usual place in the Combat Information Center at the back of the bridge, had been tracking the progress of General Kloss’ Bortasqu’ class dreadnought as it engaged their actual target, the Underspace-rooted outpost responsible for the suppression of subspace in the local area.

“Turns out the Vaadwaur strapped big cannons on this one,” Commander Kerrigan relayed. “Kloss dusted it, but his ship took quite a drubbing.”

“I guess the asteroids can shoot after all,” Captain Vox smirked, recalling how the general had been so resistant towards his assignment. “If they’re weaponizing them now, the Vaadwaur are adapting.” When General Golroth had stumbled upon the first of these outposts days ago, they’d been unarmed and undefended. Now, they were armed and defended, and given the blow they had just struck, he wondered if the Vaadwaur would now go even further to defend them. War was always a game of point-counterpoint. “Next time may not be so easy.”

“This time may not be so easy unless we get a move on,” Commander Hunt chimed in, a sense of alarm on his face. “We got incoming, edge of our range, looks like a QRF responding to what we just did. And I don’t think we want to be here when they arrive. Take a look.”

Captain Vox looked down at his armrest-mounted terminal. “Ah hell… no, we most certainly do not.” Six Astika class battlecruisers and one of those Gaul class dreadnoughts like the one that had almost finished them off over K’t’inga III. “Do you think they’ve seen us yet?”

“By when the Vaadwaur painted us last time, I doubt it,” Commander Hunt replied. The Diligent had one of the best tactical sensor suites ever produced by Starfleet, designed to identify the enemy before the enemy saw them, and it’d been further tuned by the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity to compensate for the Underspace’s distortions. “I estimate they’ll be able to within a minute though. Recommend we GTFO.” If they raced back into the Labyrinth before the Vaadwaur identified them, the enemy would have no idea which twists and turns they’d taken. If they got a lock though, it might be too late.

“Ops, recall fighters. Gator, plot a circuitous route back to K’t’inga. CIC, signal the others.”

Lieutenant Commander Essinger gave the recall order, and once she’d gotten word from Lieutenant Dalton McCormick that all twenty four of their Valkyries were settled on the deck, she gave the update: “All fighters accounted for.”

In parallel, Commander Kerrigan went about convincing the Klingons it would be best to retreat before the reinforcements arrived. They had bloodlust in their eyes. They wanted to go another round. But eventually, she brought them around. Why fight simply for the sake of fighting? A battle where they’d lose material would be a waste in the context of the bigger war. Eventually, they relented. She didn’t provide the details to Captain Vox, but rather just a simple update: “All ships confirm intent.”

“Better than last time,” Captain Vox smiled. “Maybe our friends can learn.” Last time, General Golroth had gone off script almost immediately, but it was funny the effect watching your empire burn could have. There was hope yet for this little alliance.

Their navigation officer, meanwhile, using the model developed back on Polaris by Voragh and Dr. Brooks, sorted out the twists and turns they would take through the labyrinth. “Course plotted. Plenty circuitous. Over to conn.”

“Conn, affirm,” Lieutenant Commander Coleman nodded as he received the instructions at his station. “Course locked in.”

“Alright Mister Coleman, let’s get the hell outta dodge,” Captain Vox ordered. “Max burn, engage!”