‘He’s the captain,’ Des Jeream said resolutely.

But Gwen Carrick snorted. ‘You say that like it’s a free pass. He got jumped up after Frontier Day, just like us. Do you know better what you’re doing just because you’re a department head?’

Hali Drix raised an eyebrow. ‘Way to tear us all down with him. Are you saying he shouldn’t have been given the job?’ It was a confrontational retort. But Gwen Carrick was good at making people feel confrontational.

Carrick rolled her eyes. ‘Because Starfleet never makes mistakes and isn’t massively under-staffed right now.’

‘You’ve suddenly lost all faith in him,’ said Jeream, ‘because he’s double-checking the frontier for danger?’

‘I haven’t lost all faith in him,’ said Carrick quickly. ‘I just think he’s got us on a wild goose chase.’

Drix, clearly looking for a diversion, turned to the fourth person at the table. ‘What do you think, Etol?’

‘Huh?’ Etol Vhalis had clearly not been listening, reading from his PADD as his friends bickered around him. ‘Yeah, if you can clear up the processing power for me to boost the lateral sensor array…’

‘Piss sake!’ Carrick threw her hands in the air, and at last, Drix swatted her on the arm to pipe down. They were, after all, four members of the senior staff sat in the Ranger’s mess hall, griping about command decisions. They couldn’t afford to be overheard. ‘We’re supposed to be on a survey mission. Not chasing sensor ghosts.’

The wreckage of the Romulan survey ship was days behind, now. But Captain Xhakaza had not given up trying to find those responsible. The problem was, as Carrick argued, that meant either they had no idea what had happened, or they were trying to find a cloaked Klingon ship.

‘This could have enormous ramifications for the region,’ Vhalis said with a hint of a whine. ‘A Klingon ship kicking off on Romulans?’

‘You don’t care about that,’ Carrick said brusquely. ‘You’re just enjoying trying to pierce a cloak.’

‘I can care about both things!’

Jeream raised his hands, ever the peacemaker so long as Drix was stirring her hot chocolate and watching the fight with thinly guised amusement. ‘The stellar phenomena will be waiting for us when we’re done. The Klingons might not wait.’

‘Don’t even try, Des,’ Drix told him with a wry drawl. ‘She’s just mad because she spent weeks preparing the bussard collector modifications for when we hit the nebula.’

‘That’s not the problem,’ Carrick snapped.

‘Oh, wow.’ Vhalis looked aghast on her behalf. ‘You worked so hard on them.’

‘I did, but…’

‘Do you want to go over the sensor readings from the area with me? I’m trying to filter out noise to maybe pick up some emissions from a bird-of-prey -’

‘That’s not – I think we’re just -’ Carrick was so indignant she descended into sputtering. Realising eyes were on her, she grimaced and dropped her voice to a low hiss. ‘I think Captain Xhakaza wants to make this out to be a bigger deal than it is because he feels sidelined. This isn’t simple. This is politics.’

Jeream made a face, but Drix tapped the edge of her cup curiously. ‘It would be a big deal if the Ranger found an incursion into the region,’ she mused.

‘Exactly! He’s bottom of the pack in the squadron, he lost the Swiftsure because of Captain Faust -’

‘Even though our rooms are so much comfier on the Ranger,’ Drix drawled.

‘Does anyone think it maybe it’d suit him a bit if there was actual trouble he found and fixed out here?’

The boys scoffed, which Drix thought was pretty typical of them. Vhalis rarely looked further than his own survey scans, while Jeream was stalwart in thinking the best of everyone, which was why he put up with the three of them.

But it was enough to have her lingering by the Helm controls on her next shift, leaning against the console and twirling a strand of blonde hair around a finger as she peered at Lieutenant Sovak.

‘So do you think it’s serious, Sovak? Or are we chasing shadows?’

Sovak, as always, ignored her leaning, his brow furrowed Vulcanly as he studied his readings. ‘It is clear the captain is being thorough.’

‘Is thorough just polite code for persnickety?’

Now Sovak looked up, frowning at the empty viewscreen instead of her. ‘No, as that is not a term I am familiar with, thus would not need to refer to it euphemistically.’

‘I mean… fussy. Needlessly detail-focused. To the point of missing the point.’ She added the last part quickly; Sovak loved details.

‘Are you aware that the detection of a bird-of-prey’s engine emissions was how the USS Enterprise was able to defeat a renegade Imperial ship and salvage peace talks at Khitomer in 2293? But, that was in an immediate conflict. It is unclear whether such emissions would still be detectable.’

‘Not to mention a hundred years of technology,’ said Drix quickly. She’d been cornered before by Sovak’s enthusing about what he loved more than anything in the galaxy: ships.

‘Of course,’ said Sovak, eyes lighting up despite his voice remaining as flat as ever. He came dangerously close to being effusive when she got him on the wrong topic. ‘That makes this a potentially invaluable study.’

It was almost enough to make Drix sympathise with Carrick – except Carrick was also motivated by her own nerdery, frustrated her modifications weren’t being tested.

This is one of those times where everyone sucks, she decided, and Commander Octavian decided to join in by giving a sharp order from the XO’s seat.

‘Drix. Your shift has started.’

Technically it wasn’t that unfair to remind her to get to her post. But it still left Drix feeling a bit put out as she went to her station and settled down for what she expected to be several hours of monotonous scans. She could not have been more wrong.

Jeream was at Tactical when the call came through. ‘Captain? I’m picking up a distress call from the Feserell system; there’s a former Star Empire settlement there. They’re reporting they’re under attack from a Klingon bird-of-prey.’

Captain Xhakaza stood at once. ‘Sovak, set a course; Des, tell them we’re incoming. Take us to yellow alert.’

The bridge hummed to action, but Octavian was on her feet and speaking to Xhakaza in a low voice she probably thought nobody else could hear. Drix, however, was a master at eavesdropping.

‘We have no contact with Feserell. No agreements with them,’ Octavian was reminding her captain urgently.

Xhakaza, of course, gave her a bemused look. ‘Are you suggesting we do nothing while Klingon raiders get them?’

‘You’re assuming raiders, sir. If this is an Imperial ship…’

‘Then we’ll ask them to turn away,’ said Xhakaza, and did not let the discussion to descend into what he’d do if that didn’t work by turning to Vhalis. ‘What do we know on Feserell?’

‘Basically nothing,’ said the Andorian science officer with a shrug. ‘It was too far from the border for strategic long-range scans and nobody’s come this far out. Decent-sized population?’

‘What’s decent-sized?’ pressed Octavian irritably.

‘Few million?’

‘A few million people,’ mused Xhakaza, ‘who don’t have the Star Empire to watch their backs any more.’

Drix sucked her teeth. ‘Can we contact the Republic?’

‘Nobody else is in range,’ warned Jeream.

‘So it’s just us,’ said Vhalis, hushed, ‘against a bird-of-prey.’

‘Let’s not borrow trouble, people,’ said Xhakaza quickly. ‘This could be anything.’

It was a distress call, Drix thought, from people who would have reached out to Starfleet by now if they’d wanted to. The fact they’d spotted a Starfleet ship nearby, ignored them for days, and now were signalling suggested this was nothing good.

Twenty minutes later, they found out just how bad it was when they dropped out of warp at the periphery of the Feserell system to find the wreckage of the perimeter defence system. It was old equipment, Jeream explained, long neglected and probably unmanned. But it meant the blip on their sensors of the Klingon bird-of-prey ploughing through the heart of the system for the inhabited third planet was not doing a fly-by.

‘It’s a K’vort class,’ said Jeream, voice tight. ‘And it’s got a KDF transponder.’

‘A K’vort isn’t just a scout,’ said Octavian, arms folded. ‘It’s a troop carrier. You don’t see them on idle missions. That’s a ship with people on board expecting to make landfall.’

‘Can you hail the people of Feserell?’ Xhakaza asked Jeream, and moments later the viewscreen had changed to show a harangued-looking Romulan official. She looked, Drix thought, exactly like someone who still clung to the trappings of old glories and stabilities despite them passing her by. Her uniform was of the Star Empire, but the insignia had been clumsily modified to something to represent just Feserell.

‘We received your distress call,’ said Xhakaza after he’d introduced them. ‘And we see the Imperial ship. Did they destroy your perimeter defences?’

‘And our patrol ship,’ explained the head of Feserell’s defence force. ‘They’ve not answered to any hails. We have mineral reserves to pay you for stopping them –’

Xhakaza raised a hand. ‘We’ll speak with them. Don’t worry, we won’t let them hurt your people. Ranger out.’ He turned to his crew. ‘Can we hail the Klingons?’

Jeream shook his head. ‘No response, sir.’

‘Alright.’ Xhakaza looked at the viewscreen. ‘Sovak, set a pursuit course. Full speed. Let’s pump everything to the engines, see if we can make ground.’

Ranger wasn’t a new ship – but she was newer than the K’vort class. Had she been a B’rel, catching up might have been harder, but as it was, the slower troop transport model of bird-of-prey was not as swift at impulse.

‘We are close on their aft, Captain,’ said Sovak. ‘They have not changed course.’

‘Still not answering hails,’ Jeream warned.

Xhakaza began to pace. At length, he said, ‘Take us to red alert. Des, get a weapons lock on their aft. Let’s see if we can get their attention.’

‘Sir.’ Vhalis turned away from his post at Science. ‘Confirming a population of six million on the third planet. Maybe another million on scattered holdings across the system.’

Octavian looked impassive. ‘We don’t know what the Klingons want,’ she reminded. ‘We don’t know if they have any history with these people. We’re flying blind.’

‘We are,’ conceded Xhakaza, ‘but we’re not about to turn back now.’

Jeream made a noise of surprise. ‘That got their attention. Locked onto their engines, sir, and they’re hailing us.’

The screen transformed at Xhakaza’s order to show the bridge of the K’vort, steeped in gloom. A Klingon woman sat in the centre chair, scowling. ‘I am Tselis, daughter of Qirv, of the House of K’Var. You are interfering in Imperial business, Starfleet.’

‘Captain Xhakaza, USS Ranger,’ said Xhakaza coolly. ‘I’d hate for a misunderstanding here. But we’re duty-bound to respond to distress calls. Can you clear the situation up for us?’

‘The situation,’ sneered Tselis, ‘is that this planet is among those flagged for conquest by Chancellor Toral. We are an advance party operating on the orders of the Empire.’

Xhakaza glanced towards the nearest display panel and its sensor feed. ‘There’s no way just you and your ship intends to conquer this system alone.’

‘We are the advance party. To soften and test their defences. So far, they have been weak.’

‘And if we let you continue on your business?’

Tselis shrugged. ‘Our warriors will test theirs.’

Xhakaza sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with both hands. ‘I can’t let you do that, Tselis. They asked for our help.’

‘They are a former Star Empire holding! You have no agreements with them, Starfleet, no treaties! This world is far from your borders, and no concern of yours!’ she spat, sitting up.

But Xhakaza merely shook his head and repeated, ‘They asked for our help.’

‘And I, you ally, am asking you to stand aside. Lest you interfere with the lawful operations of the Klingon Empire.’ The line went dead.

‘They are not changing course,’ warned Sovak.

Xhakaza made a noise of frustration. ‘Prepare to fire a warning shot off their port side.’

Octavian straightened at that. ‘Sir, I can’t recommend engaging a K’vort.’

‘Alone, no. Hali, contact Feserell, see if they have more ships to send in support.’

‘If they don’t have more ships,’ Octavian continued as Drix worked unhappily, ‘then one way or another, they’re not lasting long out here.’

‘They asked for our help,’ Xhakaza said once again. ‘And I don’t know anything about a Chancellor Toral except that I don’t take orders from them.’

Drix sucked her teeth as she read the reply come in from Feserell. ‘Patrol ships are being dispatched, sir, but they’re a ways out.’ She looked up at him, wondering. Waiting for support might give a threat more weight. But that could also pull the situation out of Starfleet’s hands, pit Klingon and Romulan against each other in unpredictable chaos.

Xhakaza seemed to agree with that last concern, and gestured over his shoulder. ‘Des, fire that warning shot.’

They watched with bated breath as the streak of light of the torpedo soared across the viewscreen, surging past the port side of the Klingon K’Vort class.

‘They’re hailing us again,’ Jeream warned.

‘Starfleet, this does not concern you.’ The hissing face of Tsalis was furious as she appeared on the viewscreen. ‘You will fight one of your allies over some nothing planet?’

‘I don’t want to,’ said Xhakaza. ‘You say you’re part of an advance party – then scope out the system and leave. You can complete your mission without killing anyone today.’

‘And then? We return when you are not here? I am uninterested in delaying glorious victory solely so you can pretend to care about this rock you will forget the moment you leave!’

‘I don’t know what comes next,’ Xhakaza admitted. ‘I don’t know if these people will ask for our help again. Or the Republic’s. But I know that here and now, today, I won’t turn my back on them.’

‘Your ship is no match for mine.’

‘Your orders are to scope out a world for conquest. Not antagonise Starfleet.’

‘And your orders are not to antagonise the Empire.’ Tsalis spat on the deck. ‘You’re bluffing, regardless. We will continue our –’

‘Mr Jeream, lock on their engines,’ Xhakaza snapped, eyes not moving from the viewscreen. ‘Fire when ready.’

Tsalis hesitated. To Drix’s eyes, so did Jeream. ‘You don’t –’

‘Mr Jeream!’

Des Jeream faltered only half a heartbeat before he said, ‘Firing.’

It was one blast. Not enough to do more than scrape their shields. But Drix watched as Tsalis, already furious, exploded to her feet with a burst of oaths.

‘You are lucky, Xhakaza, that my orders do not extend to fighting Starfleet this day. Do not doubt I will bring word of this to my superiors!’

The viewscreen went dead. A moment later, Sovak said, ‘They are breaking off their advance on the third planet, sir. Their course is heading back to the periphery.’

Xhakaza’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his temples. ‘Let them go. We’ll see what we can do for the people of Feserell.’

‘Maybe they want to quickly become a protectorate or something,’ said Vhalis, grimacing. ‘Or buddy up with the Republic.’

‘We better hope so,’ said Drix, a little hotter than she meant. ‘Otherwise, did we just stick our necks out and strain a treaty agreement for people who want nothing to do with us?’

‘No, Hali.’ Xhakaza was already relaxing, already turning back to his staff with a gentle smile. ‘We stuck our necks out and strained a treaty agreement for people who asked for help.’

But by now, Drix knew her captain’s propensity for determined hope. It wasn’t exactly one she shared. And from the frown on the face of the silent Commander Octavian, ever more pragmatic, ever aware that they had just thumbed their noses at the Klingon Empire, Drix couldn’t this time bring herself to feel reassured.

There would be a reckoning for this.