The grand reception hall of Briasyraa’s luxury yacht was dazzling. The chandeliers were casting a warm, golden glow, their crystal facets catching the light like a thousand tiny stars. Richly coloured drapes framed the tall windows, offering an endless view of the galaxy beyond, while elegantly set tables filled the room, adorned with flowers and shimmering glasses. Every detail of the space spoke of precision and artistry, creating a scene of perfection. Briasyraa had gone all out, and her constant attention to everything continued to show off her power and wealth.
At the far end of the room, a raised platform awaited, decorated with garlands of exotic blooms that filled the air with their delicate fragrance. Briasyraa stood at its centre, a commanding figure in a flowing gown of shimmering fabric that seemed to shift colours with her movements. She oozed control and presence, her expression equal parts regal and triumphant.
Hawkins stood at the foot of the platform, his tailored white and gold suit fitting him flawlessly. Though his posture was straight and confident, there was a subtle tension in his shoulders. For a moment, Hawkins gazed up at the galaxy spinning outside the grand windows; a storm of emotions raged within him. His Starfleet training drilled into him the importance of compartmentalising and maintaining focus no matter the situation. Everything he did here, every carefully chosen word, every calculated gesture, was for the mission’s good. The stakes were too high for mistakes, and he knew the weight of this operation rested squarely on his shoulders. He then darted his gaze to the man he was about to marry.
But in this moment—standing face-to-face with Orlando Radcliffe—Hawkins let himself feel something else. Amid the deception and danger, there was something achingly real. This wasn’t just for the mission; this was for them.
He stole a glance at Radcliffe, who was staring back at him with an intensity that made Hawkins’ pulse quicken. Radcliffe’s smile was as warm and genuine as it had been during their Academy days, and for a brief moment, the room, the mission, the lies—they all faded into the background. It was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of something that felt as infinite as the stars. Radcliffe wore a deep navy suit trimmed in silver, which complemented his features perfectly. His sandy blond hair was neatly styled, and his face radiated warmth as he smiled at Hawkins.
Hawkins clenched his hands behind his back, steeling himself. He had to keep up the facade in front of Briasyraa, who stood to the side, watching them like a hawk. Her expression was unreadable, but her presence was a constant reminder of the stakes. Briasyraa wasn’t just a powerful Orion leader; she was their enemy. She was someone who could crush lives with a flick of her wrist, and Hawkins had no illusions about how dangerous she truly was.
And yet, here he was, allowing himself to marry Radcliffe—his partner, his anchor, his reason for hope. The mission demanded he play the role of the lovestruck fiancé, but that wasn’t difficult. His feelings for Radcliffe were no act, and as much as he hated the circumstances, he couldn’t help but revel in the moment.
“Ready for this?” Radcliffe’s soft voice cut through Hawkins’ thoughts.
Hawkins smiled, though he felt the familiar knot of tension in his chest. “Always.” His voice was calm and steady, the way it always was when he faced the unknown.
Briasyraa raised her hands to begin the ceremony. Her voice carried a commanding edge, and Hawkins felt the weight of every word she spoke.
“My guests,” Briasyraa began, her voice reverberating through the hall, “we are gathered today to witness and celebrate the union of these two loved-up souls, Thomas Hawkins and Orlando Radcliffe. Their bond is a beacon of connection in the galaxy’s vastness, a reminder of what binds us all.”
Hawkins swallowed hard, his mind flickering back to the mission momentarily. He wondered how much Briasyraa truly knew, how far her web of spies extended, and whether she could sense the conflict brewing inside him. It was like a volcano ready to erupt. Whatever she was planning, he knew they had to stop her.
But as Radcliffe took his hands, the mission faded once more. The warmth of Radcliffe’s touch grounded him, anchoring him to this moment.
Radcliffe’s vows flowed with a sincerity that hit Hawkins in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
“Tom, from the moment we met, you changed my life. Your kindness, your intelligence, and your unwavering strength have been my foundation. Today, I promise to stand by your side through every challenge, every triumph, and every moment in between. You are my partner, my love, and my home.”
Hawkins could feel the room’s eyes on him, but for a moment, he didn’t care. He could hear Radcliffe’s voice’s faint hitch; the vulnerability mirrored his own.
Hawkins took a breath before speaking, his words slow and calculated. They had to sound authentic to keep up the facade. “Orlando, you’ve always had a way of making me feel like I could take on anything. Your laughter, your determination, and your belief in me have brought light into my life. I promise always to support you, cherish you, and face the galaxy with you, no matter what it brings. You are my everything.”
As Briasyraa pronounced them married, Hawkins felt a strange mix of emotions. Relief, joy, and a twinge of guilt all fought for dominance. When Radcliffe leaned in and kissed him, the room’s cheers faded into a dull hum.
For that one moment, Hawkins allowed himself to forget the mission. To him, the kiss was real—entirely, undeniably real. What was he doing?
The reception was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as guests mingled and celebrated. Hawkins and Radcliffe moved through the crowd, shaking hands, receiving congratulations, and stealing affectionate glances at one another.
Amid the festivities, Torvak appeared, her formal dress as pristine as ever, though her demeanour was far more serious. She approached the couple quietly, her expression unreadable.
“I hate to interrupt your happy day,” she began, her voice low and a level of sarcasm entrenched within it, “but we have a situation.”
Radcliffe tensed slightly, and Hawkins immediately stepped closer.
“What is it?” Hawkins asked as he continued to pretend the three of them were having a mock conversation filled with smiles. He took a sip of champagne from the glass flute he had in his hands.
Torvak glanced around before leaning in. “I’ve found the subspace communication jamming device. It’s on board this yacht, and they’re prepping it to be used again.”
Hawkins exchanged a glance with Radcliffe, his expression hardening. “Prepping it again?”
Torvak hesitated before continuing. “I have evidence that it was recently tested on a civilian freighter convoy in the Vayt sector. They were destroyed, their communications completely cut off.”
Hawkins clenched his jaw. “We have to stop this.”
Radcliffe placed a hand on Hawkins’ shoulder. “We will. But we need a plan.”
Torvak nodded. “Agreed. We can’t act recklessly. Briasyraa has eyes everywhere. We need to be smart about this if we’re going to stop her without revealing our plans too soon.”
The three of them exchanged determined looks, the weight of the situation sinking in. The celebration continued around them, but they knew the actual work was just beginning.
Radcliffe leaned in closer, his hand brushing lightly against Hawkins’ as he spoke, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the music. “We’ll find a way to handle this. Just—”
Before he could finish, a group of Orion brutes made their way through the crowd toward them, their presence as commanding as a storm rolling into a calm sea.
The lead brute was a towering figure, well over seven feet tall, with skin the colour of deep emerald and muscles that seemed carved from stone. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his dark leather tunic. His narrow, piercing eyes scanned the trio, his gaze lingering on Torvak for a moment longer than the others.
Hawkins stiffened as the group approached, their sheer size and the menace in their expressions drawing the attention of nearby guests, who quickly stepped aside to make way.
“Gentlemen, the mistress sends her regrets, but she wishes to see you and your Romulan friend,” the leader growled, his deep voice like the rumble of distant thunder. “Now!”
Torvak arched an eyebrow, her expression calm but her eyes keenly alert. “Charming. Do all her invitations come with such forceful delivery?”
The brute ignored her, his attention fixed on Hawkins and Radcliffe. “You will come with us. The Mistress doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Radcliffe glanced at Hawkins, his brow furrowing in concern. “What’s this about?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
The lead brute sneered, his sharp teeth glinting in the light. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Hawkins exchanged a quick, subtle glance with Torvak. Her posture remained relaxed, but he could see the tension in her jaw—a clear sign she was preparing for the worst.
“Lead the way,” Radcliffe said.
The brutes surrounded them, their massive frames cutting off any chance of escape as they were ushered toward the nearest turbolift. The crowd parted in silence, the music faltering as the tension in the room rose. Hawkins felt the weight of countless eyes on them as they stepped into the lift.
The turbolift doors slid open with a hiss, and the trio was ushered inside. The journey to the bridge felt like an eternity. Hawkins could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he mentally braced himself for whatever was waiting.
When the turbolift doors opened, the bridge of Briasyraa’s yacht sprawled before them, a gleaming space filled with Orion crew members attending their stations. In the centre, Briasyraa stood on a raised platform, her back to them, her elaborate wedding attire still shimmering under the ambient light. Her presence dominated the room, commanding absolute attention.
“Come closer,” she said without turning, her voice smooth yet carrying an edge that sent a shiver down Hawkins’ spine.
They stepped forward, their escort fanning out to surround them. Hawkins felt the weight of the Orion guards’ gazes, their disruptors resting in their hands, ready to act immediately.
Briasyraa finally turned, her emerald-green eyes locking onto Radcliffe with an almost predatory intensity. Her expression was calm, but the underlying tension in her gaze was unmistakable.
“There’s a traitor among us,” she began, her voice laced with venom.
Radcliffe’s brows knit together in confusion as he glanced between Hawkins and Torvak. “What are you talking about?” he asked, as he projected a genuinely puzzled tone.
One of the guards stepped forward, levelling his disruptor at Torvak. The sudden motion made Hawkins’ hand twitch, but he forced himself to stay calm.
Briasyraa walked gracefully down the steps of her platform, her gaze never leaving Radcliffe. “Your friend,” she said, gesturing to Torvak, “is a Romulan spy. A Tal Shiar infiltrator. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Radcliffe shook his head, his voice firm. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve known Torvak for years. She’s loyal.”
Briasyraa’s lips twisted into a condescending smile. “Oh, Orlando. Your faith in others is touching but misplaced. Let me show you something.”
She raised her hand, and a holographic projection appeared before them. The grainy recording showed Torvak sneaking through the yacht’s corridors, bypassing security protocols and accessing sensitive areas.
Hawkins felt his stomach drop. Torvak, standing beside him, remained stoic, her face unreadable.
“Does that look like the behaviour of a loyal ally?” Briasyraa asked, her voice mocking.
Radcliffe’s jaw tightened. “Even if that’s true—”
“Oh, it is true,” Briasyraa interrupted, her voice sharp. She stepped closer to Radcliffe, her eyes narrowing. “And now, I need to know where you stand.”
Radcliffe stiffened as she approached him, the tension between them thick enough to cut. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cautious.
Briasyraa circled him slowly like a predator sizing up its prey. “You owe me, Orlando. I gave you everything—your dream wedding, your happy reunion. Now it’s time to prove your loyalty.”
Radcliffe’s eyes darted toward Hawkins, a flicker of desperation in his gaze. “What do you want me to do?”
Briasyraa stopped in front of him, her expression hardening. “Kill her,” she said, pointing a long, manicured finger at Torvak before pulling out a dagger between a slit in her long dress.
Hawkins’ heart sank. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to defuse the situation. “You can’t be serious,” he said, stepping forward.
Briasyraa turned her icy gaze on him. “Oh, but I am. A Tal Shiar infiltrator cannot be allowed to leave here alive.”
Radcliffe shook his head. “I can’t do that. I won’t.”
Briasyraa’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You disappoint me, Orlando. Perhaps you need more motivation.”
She snapped her fingers, and a new holographic projection showed a scan of the surrounding region. Three ships were highlighted: the USS Formidable and two Romulan Free State warbirds.
“I had planned to deal with the Tal Shiar quietly,” Briasyraa said, her tone now laced with sinister delight. “But this… this presents an opportunity. And the Federation ship is your former posting,” She looked at Hawkins. “Yours too. So there are people on there you both once cared for.”
Briasyraa turned to face Radcliffe, her dress shimmering like a storm cloud. “I will pit the Federation and the Romulan Free State against each other. A war will be the perfect distraction for me to consolidate my power. While they tear each other apart, I will rise in this region unchallenged and eventually the entire Alpha and Beta Quadrants.”
Hawkins clenched his fists, his mind racing. He knew Briasyraa was ruthless, but this was madness. She was truly out for galactic dominance, like some fantasy villain he had read as a child. How would an Orion leader come out on top above so many others?
“I must send a strong signal to the Tal Shiar that if they try to stop me, then I will respond in kind with a wave of power that they’ve not met before,” Briasyraa stated confidently. She looked at Torvak, “You will see your once powerful state fall apart as the Federation crushes it, and then you will die,” She turned to Radcliffe and handed him the dagger. “And Orlando will kill you once I make my first move.”
“Even if I am a Tal Shiar agent, there’s nothing you can do that would force both the Federation and Romulan Free State to go to war; you’re not that powerful Briasyraa,” Torvak said, almost working hard to wind the Orion leader up further.
“Oh, they will, and I have everything I need,” Briasyraa said, turning to Radcliffe. “Now all I need is my right-hand man by my side to prove himself one more time.”
Radcliffe raised the dagger, considering it for a moment. Hawkins prepared himself, knowing that if anything was to happen, then this was it.
Do or die.