Iskander al-Kwaritzmi’s personal log, supplemental: I was hoping to have a long, heartfelt discussion with Dhae about our relationship and future. This was interrupted first by Commander Siouinon and then by a hostile Klingon fleet. What’s next?

Commander Siouinon stood at the sight of the decloaking Klingon fleet and commented: “Mille milliards de mille sabords!”

Dhae, similarly, said something in Romulan. The translator didn’t pick it up, but Iskander had heard that specific word enough many times to know it was the strongest expletive in his repertoire.

Iskander didn’t say anything, but kept looking out of the fleet that had just emerged from the Underspace, deep into Romulan Republic space. He knew enough of the political situation to know that, even though the Federation was allied both to the Romulan Republic and the Klingon Empire, the Klingon Empire considered the Republic to be a target. Whether that fleet was here to plunder or to conquer or just to seek a glorious death in battle, it came to the same.

Commander Siouinon’s communicator chirped. It was Rhimolderken, the ship’s communication officer. “Commander Siouinon to the bridge.”

She had already stood, of course, and before exiting the Dhae’s diplomatic quarter she turned to look at the Romulan and at Iskander. Probably she didn’t really know what to say. “As you were,” said she finally — an odd choice — and left.

Out of the window, the could see a Romulan fleet decloaking: around the planet ch’Thyneal dozens and dozens of starships had been orbiting, probably hidden on behalf of the two Starfleet vessels, but now they were getting alerted. It looked like a respectably sized fleet, but so did the Klingon one.

And speaking of Starfleet, the other Federation vessel, an unnamed Echelon-class, also quickly moved. A new, shiny and beautiful ship, it quickly fell into position along the Romulan ships.

Iskander and Dhae stared at each other.

“The Klingons are looking for a fight” said Dhae, resolute.

“I — I guess” said Iskander, standing. “It is yellow alert. Gamma shift. I am to go, Dhae.”

“Where? Main Engineering?”

What did it matter? But Iskander had decided not to keep secrets from his Romulan lovers — at least, not this sort of secret anyway. “Forward engineering post. I am to lead repair teams in sections 12 to 24 in case of a battle.”

“Is there any chance that the Redding will manage to drop me and my compatriots on a Navy ship before a battle starts?”

“I doubt that it’s in any way an option, Dhae.”

“Why not? It is the logical thing for the Redding. You are here to deliver the seventeen of us. You can just do that and return into the Underspace, Iskander.”

Iskander smiled without amusement. “Our Captain would rather seek her death in battle too.”

“Ah. She is Andorian, yes. Then I will come with you.”

Iskander was almost about to object out of some sort of habit, but realized that Dhae had broken protocol by insisting Iskander be on the Koruba’s bridge when they exited the Underspace: what right did he have, emotionally, to leave Dhae in a quarter to do nothing during a battle? Also, Dhae was an ally.

Red alert.

Out of the viewing port of the diplomatic quarter, the Klingon fleet was lurching forward, fast and deadly. The first shots were being hurled.

They ran together to the forward engineering post.