The ancient sewers running underneath Ralok’s town were cramped and dark, lit only by the hand beacons the team carried with them. Raisa could deal with the dark, but the foul stench assaulting her senses was another matter. With each breath, the foetid scent of the ankle-deep stagnant water they stood in burned her nostrils.

“Our intelligence was accurate,” Ralok announced as he studied his tricorder. “There are five Klingons in the building above us.”

Raisa nodded slowly. “How long until your people disable the security system?”

“They will signal when it’s done,” Ralok replied patiently. “At the same time, they will begin feeding the internal sensors false data to mask our infiltration.” 

Raisa nodded and closed her eyes. She took a deep, steady breath but instantly regretted it when the tunnel’s stench made contact with her nostrils, intensifying the burning sensation.

“How are you holding up, Lieutenant?” Raisa asked, opening her eyes and pointing her beacon in da Costa’s direction.

The young officer squinted in the light. Through gritted teeth, he replied, “Still in one piece so far, ma’am.”

“Just hang together,” Raisa told him. “We’ll get you home soon enough.”

Ralok’s tricorder chirped. “It’s done.” A hatch above them opened, flooding the dark sewer with a bright light. Ralok climbed up the ladder first with Raisa close behind him. They emerged in the middle of a storeroom. Tall stacks of crates surrounded them.

“This way.” Ralok moved to the door. He stopped and held up a hand, his tricorder in the other. He led them into the corridor beyond, once he was sure the coast was clear.

The group moved along the corridor carefully, relying on Ralok to give them advanced warning of approaching Klingons. One deserted corridor became another. Raisa could only guess that the current silence that filled the building was atypical of the town’s militia HQ.

“What happened to your officers when the Klingons attacked?” Raisa whispered to Ralok.

Ralok kept his eyes on the tricorder in his hand. “I wanted to stand our ground, to defend our home from these Klingon dogs. But we were ordered to scatter and activate our fallback compounds.”

“The caves,” Raisa muttered.

Ralok nodded. “Yes. It’s one of several in this region.”

Before the conversation could go any further, Ralok held his hand up and came to a stop. Silently, he motioned for the Starfleet officers to wait. Timing his move perfectly, he stepped out into a junction in the corridor and raised his disruptor. Pressing the trigger, he fired a bolt of energy.

Peaking around the corner, Raisa watched as the disruptor bolt struck a Klingon warrior in the back. He burned from the inside out. Raisa watched in horror as he began to disintegrate in a fiery, violent, painful death with a look of shock and a blood-curdling scream which echoed throughout the room as he burned.

Raisa’s stomach lurched as the scent of burning flesh reached her nostrils, a smell even more sickening than the ones she’d experienced in the tunnels. Despite over a decade in Starfleet, Raisa had never seen someone disintegrated before. It was every bit as horrifying as it had been described. 

“Was that necessary?” Raisa hissed.

The Romulan calmly lowered his weapon and sneered at the spot where the Klingon had stood just moments ago. “If we leave bodies, we’d alert the Klingons to our presence.” He started down the corridor. “This way.”

Ralok led them to a nearby turbolift that would carry them to the top floor. When they arrived in Ralok’s office, they found the room empty. “Lock the door,” Ralok instructed as he moved around his desk and started frantically typing at the console built into the desk.

Raisa moved to the door and entered the command. A dull thunk came from the door. With the lock in place, Raisa shot her phaser at the control panel, preventing anyone from unlocking it again. That would only hold the Klingons temporarily.

“The Klingons have detected my attempts to bypass the transporter lockout,” Ralok announced. “They are on their way.”

A sense of panic began creeping up Raisa’s chest. If their Romulan ally couldn’t bypass the lockout, they would be at the mercy of the Klingons who would soon beat the door down. She doubted they would be as merciful this time.

“How long?” Raisa asked as the first shouts could be heard on the other side of the door.

Ralok’s fingers quickly tapped command after command on the transporter console. “Just a few minutes more.”

“I don’t think we have a few minutes,” Raisa replied dryly as loud thumps on the door accompanied shouts in Klingon. “Let’s take up defensive positions.” She motioned for her team to place themselves in the best positions to defend Ralok.

Sweat beaded on Raisa’s forehead. A glance at Ralok suggested he was equally feeling the pressure. There wasn’t much time to consider it further as the doors exploded inward, the force of the blast shattering the office windows.

The first Klingon who stormed in was immediately cut down by phaser fire from Tanner and Callahan. The same thing happened the second. A hail of disruptor fire filled the office as the Klingons shot through the smoke left behind by their blast. 

“I have it,” Ralok’s triumph was short-lived as a trio of Klingon warriors, disruptors in hand, stormed into the room. “Beginning transport sequence.”

Raisa felt the effects of the transporter beam as she ducked behind her cover. She looked up in time to see Ralok take a disruptor blast to the chest, sending him flying back into the wall. The room dissolved around her, replaced by a dark, dingy alleyway.

There wasn’t time to mourn Ralok or even catch their breaths. The Klingons would be hot on their tails. Raisa scrambled to her feet. “We need to move.”

“This way,” Callahan pointed to the open end of the alley. The team followed out into a bustling street. “We need to find our bearings and determine how far we are from the rendezvous.”

Raisa nodded slowly, walking calmly alongside her. “Agreed.”  After a few more paces she added, “Signal Ark Royal. Inform them we’ve reached the capital.”

The anticipation on the bridge was palpable the moment Arlo Henris stepped out of his ready room. Soon, Ark Royal would once more do battle with the Klingon forces belonging to the House of Korrak, but this time she would not be alone. The Klingons still had superior numbers, but Arlo was confident they could be defeated. Commander Shukri and her team’s lives depended on it.

“Where are we?” Arlo asked as he settled into his seat.

Lieutenant Commander Calderwood turned to face the centre of the bridge, “We’ve received word from the away team. They’ve reached the capital.”

“Very well,” Arlo replied. “Commander Wescott?”

“All departments report ready, Captain,” Wescott responded from her position over Arlo’s left shoulder. “As do the Romulan warbirds and the Spitfire.”

Arlo gave a satisfied nod. He turned to his right, “Mister Calderwood, signal the other ships to form up on us.” The chief comms officer nodded and quickly sent the signal as Arlo continued issuing orders. “Helm, lay in a course for Valdran Prime. Prepare for warp jump on my mark.”

Travelling at warp speeds wasn’t advised inside a star system, but Arlo trusted in Ensign Jenar’s abilities to drop them out of warp right on top of the Klingon ships. “Course laid in, sir. The Romulan ships have formed up on our port and starboard while the Spitfire is on our flank.”

“Then there’s no time like the present,” Arlo muttered, gripping the armrests tighter. “Red alert. All hands,” he took a deep breath, “battle stations.” The lights on the bridge dimmed and the red alert indicators momentarily bathed the room in red. “Commander Calhoun, you’re weapons-free as soon as we drop out of warp.” He took another breath to steel himself against what was to come. “Helm, engage.”

The mighty vessel thrummed as she jumped to warp momentarily. Within seconds she dropped back to impulse and the instant she did, Ark Royal unleashed her fury upon the Klingon ships. Phaser fire lanced out from her phaser strips and torpedoes streaked through the vacuum of space, pounding on the Klingon shields, weakening them with every strike. 

The Vor’cha-class cruiser that Ark Royal targeted gave as good as she got. Her disruptor fire found Ark Royal’s shields, working in tandem with torpedoes in an attempt to punch through them with brute force.

“What time is it?”

Raisa eyed Callahan with an exasperated glance. “It’s roughly ninety seconds since you last asked me that question.”

“What if something’s happened to him?” Callahan asked, leaning in to ensure none of the other tavern patrons could hear her.

“Let’s not leap to conclusions,” Raisa muttered as she placed a reassuring hand on Callahan’s forearms. “He’s only four minutes late. He may have had to take a less direct route to avoid any run-ins with the Klingons.”

“Maybe,” Callahan replied.

They sat in tense silence for another ten minutes before light momentarily flooded in from outside when the door opened. A lone figure with a hooded cloak stepped inside, closed the door behind them, and slowly looked around. When their gaze landed on Raisa’s table, the figure began moving toward them.

Raisa hoped this was Doctor Livek, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances. She reached inside her cloak and unholstered her phaser, holding it under the table pointed at the stranger approaching them.

“Can we help you?” Callahan asked when the stranger stood over their table.

“I believe you can, Commander Callahan,” The stranger replied quietly, pulling down his hood to reveal the familiar face of Doctor Livek.

Raisa breathed a sigh of relief. She holstered her phaser as the Romulan scientist slid into the booth beside da Costa.

“What kept you?” Callahan asked evenly, keeping her frustration under wraps.

“My apologies; I was delayed by a Klingon patrol. Their checks on my documents were quite thorough. I am fortunate the forgeries stood up to such intense scrutiny.” He sniffed the air. “What is that smell?”

Callahan’s face flushed. “It’s us.”

“Were you in the sewers?”

Raisa and Callahan shared a look. “Yes,” Callahan replied.

An old Romulan with silver hair ambled over to their table. “What’ll it be?” he asked, his nose scrunched in disgust. Raisa was amazed he didn’t ask them to leave.

Livek ordered for the group, sending the old man ambling off to the bar again. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” Raisa replied in a hushed tone. “Ark Royal is beginning their attack. They’ll signal when the Klingons have been driven off.”

“You’ll forgive me,” Livek began. “But one Sovereign-class starship hardly seems enough to take on a small fleet of Klingon warships.”

The old man returned and placed a cup filled with a deep orange liquid in front of each of them. Raisa waited until he was out of earshot before continuing. “They have help.”

“From who?” Livek asked before taking a long sip of his drink. 

“The USS Spitfire and a pair of Romulan warbirds. One from the Free State and one from the Republic.”

The colour drained from Livek’s face and he blinked several times rapidly in quick succession. Raisa could see him gripping the table’s edge so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “The Free State?”

“They’ve been holding position at the edge of the system with Ark Royal,” Raisa assured him.

“They found me,” Livek looked around the tavern before his gaze fell on his drink. The wide-eyed look of panic in his eyes was unmistakable.

Natural light fell on the table. Raisa looked round just in time to see a hodded figure leaving the tavern. When she looked back at Livek, he was stumbling out of his chair clawing at his neck struggling for breath. In his panic, he fell onto a table and rolled towards the floor. Raisa and Callahan kneeled on either side of him, Callahan scanning him with her tricorder.

“Poison,” Livek croaked.

Raisa looked to Callahan, “What can we do?”

Callahan looked up from her tricorder. She looked as helpless as Raisa felt. They’d come this far, endured so much, only to lose Livek now.

A crowd gathered around them, watching a man’s life be snuffed out in front of them. Livek reached up and grabbed the front of Raisa’s cloak, pulling her close. She listened intently as he spoke, sharing one last secret with Starfleet before the end. Raisa froze, shocked by what she’d just been told.

Livek’s grip slackened before his hand fell away. The steady, continuous tone coming from Callahan’s tricorder told them what they already knew. He was dead.

The deck shuddered violently as Ark Royal’s shields absorbed another barrage of disruptor fire from the lead Vor’cha-class ship. The Klingons were relentless in their attacks, but the Starfleet/Romulan alliance returned fire with the same ferocity.

“Shields down to fifty-two percent,” Calhoun shouted over the sound of an exploding EP conduit.

Lieutenant Sheppard added, “Hull breach on deck eight. Emergency force fields in place and holding.”

“What about the Klingons?” Arlo asked.

“Their shields are at nineteen percent,” Calhoun replied. “The structural integrity of their port nacelle is compromised. Another good shot should finish them.”

Finish them, Arlo thought. We’re talking about one of our oldest allies. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Helm, bring us around. Attack pattern Echo-two-niner,” Arlo ordered. “Mister Calhoun, fire to disable.” He pushed himself back into his seat and gripped it tightly.

The orange-haired tactical officer’s head snapped around. “Sir?”

It’s either them or us, a voice at the back of Arlo’s mind silently reminded him. These people wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if the role were reversed.

“You heard me,” Arlo replied firmly.

Calhoun nodded and returned his gaze to his console. “Aye, sir.”

On the screen, Arlo watched as the Klingon ship swung into view again. Ark Royal charged towards it like a rampaging bull, waiting for the right moment to swing its mighty horns at its prey. The shields flared as another round of disruptor fire struck them, followed by a volley torpedo for good measure. Ark Royal rolled to port, exposing her belly.

It’s them or us.

“Fire!”

Ark Royal unleashed a storm of phaser fire from her ventral arrays, weakening the shields around the Vor’cha’s port nacelle with every impact. The volley of quantum torpedoes proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Two of the torpedoes struck the nacelle directly, the first passing clean through it and the second shearing it off.

The Vor’cha began to drift as its power systems failed. They were helpless.

“Sir, the Romulans have destroyed one of the other Vor’cha’s,” Calhoun reported. “The remaining three ships are retreating.”

There would be time to bask in their victory later if this could even be described as a victory. “Stand-

“Captain!” Calhoun shouted urgently. “The warbirds are targeting the disabled Klingon ship.”

Arlo pushed himself to his feet. “Open a channel.”

“Channel open,” Calderwood quickly replied.

“Mirith, Shavik, stand down.” He glanced at Calderwood, who shook his head. “Helm, put us between the Klingon ship and the Romulans. Mister Calhoun, reroute all available power to the-”

Arlo could only watch as the warbird’s disruptors unleashed a ferocious volley of fire at the Vor’cha-class ship drifting helplessly. Internal explosions ripped through the crippled vessel, tearing her apart before their eyes. The ship exploded, showering Ark Royal’s shields with fragments of varying sizes that survived.

“No mercy.” Mireth’s voice echoed across the bridge before she cut the channel.

The officers on the bridge were silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts at what they’d just witnessed. “Stand down from red alert,” Arlo ordered dejectedly.

“Captain,” Calderwood began. “I’ve got Commander Shukri.”

Arlo gave his communications officer a curt nod. “Go ahead, Commander.”

“It’s good to hear your voice again, sir.” 

A smile pulled at Arlo’s lips at the sound of Shukri’s voice, though she sounded weary. “You too, Commander. What’s your status?”

“The away team’s in one piece,” Shukri reported. “Though Lieutenant da Costa needs medical attention. A Romulan doctor patched him up as best he could, but I’d like Doctor Young to take a look as soon as possible.”

Arlo nodded. “I’ll have him meet you in the transporter room.” He could feel himself relax a little on hearing the news that his officers were in one piece. “What about Doctor Livek?”

“He didn’t make it.”

“What happened?” Arlo asked.

“His drink was spiked with poison,” Shukri replied. “We suspect the involvement of a Tal Shiar agent.”

If the Tal Shiar couldn’t recover Doctor Livek themselves, they would certainly do whatever was necessary to stop him from sharing his knowledge with the Federation. “Understood, Commander. Stand by to beam up.”

“Standing by, sir.”