—- USS Luna, Bridge —-

“The Klingons are hailing us,” said Chief Security Officer Lieutenant Claudia Jara who was standing at the tactical console. Her voice was crisp and efficient, they had been waiting on the call, having anticipated it because the Klingon commander Klar had given them a deadline to hand over the Romulan survivors. That deadline had passed, and now he was coming calling.

“What’s the status on weapons and our drive system?” Commander Carrillo asked, wanting to know just how much bluffing this was going to require. They had finally fixed ship to ship communications, the question was whether or not they could do anything beyond beg for mercy.

At the engineering console Lieutenant Murf shook her head, “Lieutenant Commander Young’s doing what he can, but maybe you can fire a phaser once. Or one torpedo. I’d say we can probably do warp seven.”

Even with the general inclination toward conservatism that engineers subscribed to Commander Carrillo did not like that report. While she doubted that in normal circumstances the Klingons would fire upon them, so far away from any witnesses who was to say what had happened to the USS Luna.

“Onscreen,” she said, knowing that she could not delay that much longer.

Klar appeared and grinned at the Luna’s bridge crew, baring his teeth to show his dominance. He took time to chuckle and then addressed Carrillo, “Where is Captain Cruz, you got her back from the planet’s surface.”

It was Carrillo’s turn for bluster, “You’re lucky she’s taking the day off, you get to deal with me. Now I imagine you’re here to apologize for all the bluster and threats and we can both be on our way home.”

Klar laughed, “Your ship is damaged, the weapons systems are down. You’ll do as I say or die.”

Carrillo nodded, then turned to her right and spoke to the science officer on the bridge, Lieutenant Junior Grade Sevrin. Addressing the Vulcan she asked, “Mister Sevrin what would happen if I put a torpedo straight into the anomaly?”

“Unknown, though our best guess if that it would collapse,” Sevrin answered.

“And trap us here?” Carrillo asked.

“Both ships would be trapped,” Sevrin confirmed.

“And Mister Sevrin, how long would it take us to get home?” Carrillo said leading the questioning.

“We are not sure, but given what the Romulans have said, five to seven years at high warp,” Sevrin said.

Carrillo looked at the screen, “Now I haven’t been on a Klingon vessel for a while but I don’t expect they’re that comfortable for five year missions. Also we’re on the far side of Romulan space, we’d have to cross their entire territory. How long could a Klingon ship remain cloaked?”

“You’re bluffing,” Klar said, “You’d never trap yourselves here besides you have no weapons.”

“Lieutenant Jara fire a photon torpedo across the entrance of the anomaly,” Carrillo said.

Jara nodded and confirmed, tiring the single torpedo that they currently had to work with. Now they were unarmed but the goal was to make the Klingons think otherwise. A torpedo lashed out, missing the anomaly and vanishing into space.

“Now we can all go home now, or we can take the long way,” Carrillo said and nodded to Lieutenant Pr’Nor at the conn, “Take us into the anomaly Lieutenant.”

Klar gritted his teeth and ended the transmission.

“Shields up,” Carrillo said, “full speed to the anomaly.”

At tactical Jara looked up, “Klingon battle cruiser is following, but not firing.”

Carrillo nodded, with an unknown chance of the Luna making it back to Federation space the Klingons were unwilling to open fire and break their fragile treaty with the Federation.

“Going to warp,” Pr’Nor reported and the USS Luna entered the anomaly and headed back towards the Triangle.

—- Starbase 86, Medical Bay —-

Taking her first step Captain Adriana Cruz winced in pain. One would have thought the advantage of having a newly installed cybernetic leg was that unlike her previous flesh and blood one, this one could not feel pain. Nobody had told her, at least not before being attacked by a monster on an ice planet, that she’d have phantom pains of her old organic leg.

A tall slender Romulan entered as Commander Sibolev of the Tal Shiar entered the medical bay and seeing Cruz taking her first steps he headed over. He nodded at the Starfleet captain.

“I wish to thank you for your crew’s hospitality over the past few days,” Sibolev said.

“Least we could do,” Cruz said.

“No you could have left us on the planet for the Klingons,” Sibolev said, “I even understand your Commander Carrillo faced down a Klingon.”

“Maybe you could have been nicer to her,” Cruz smiled, “But yes, that’s the Kirk in us. Doing what’s right. Even if it made him a failed admiral, as you say.”

“When we meet again, I will take that into consideration,” Sibolev said.

“That we do what’s right?” Cruz asked.

“No, that you are insane,” Sibolev said, “Our transport is here. This is good bye for now Cruz.”

“Why does everything you say make me feel like you’ll stab me in the back later?” Cruz said, only half joking.

“Because I likely will,” Sibolev said and then nodded his farewell and headed out of the sickbay.