Earth had been destroyed, obliterated by the Romulans. The colonies were next to fall, they had little to no defenses, and were prime targets for the slaughter. The Enterprise had banded up with whatever human ships they could find. Cargo hauls, science vessels, it didn't matter what they used to be, they were now the sole survivors of an almost extinct race, clinging to its existence. And yet they didn't give up, as many might. Weapons were upgraded, engines improved, and humanity had its first fleet, a rag tag, beat to hell and back fleet.
And in the scheme of things, it couldn't do shit. They were alive alright, but only barely maintaining their existence. They relied on stealth and speed to survive, and under no circumstance did any detected ship return to their "base". The crew was under direct orders to wait for reinforcements. And if none came, they would die, plain and simple. With so few humans left, they couldn't afford to risk more than one ship on a doomed outcome.
When it came to it, many of the other Captains had fully supported raiding the less protected colonies. They claimed it was necessary, in order to preserve what was left of humanity. They did need food, they did need functioning ships, but it was Trip who told them no. He stated that, if they did do that, they would be no better than the Romulans. And he would be forced to treat them as such. Fortunately, when Captain Tucker had expressed his opinion, most everybody abandoned the idea. Many saw him as the leader of their group, and they respected his decision. Of course, he did have the fire power to back it up, being in control of the most advanced ship man had had a chance to create.
So now they waited in the shadows, they didn't dare set down any number for colonization. They needed everybody they could get their hands on, and they couldn't stay put for more than a day or two, before fleeing Romulan scouts. They traded when they could, used a bare minimum of supplies, preserving what they could to last another day…