The aroma of pancakes filled Raisa’s nostrils as she slowly woke from her sleep. Ashraf always made pancakes on a Sunday morning. Rolling onto her back, Raisa took a deep breath, savouring the smell that permeated the house before allowing her eyes to flutter open. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there, wrapped in the warmth of her bed.

“You’re awake,” Ashraf said softly when he peeked around the door. “I was starting to think you would sleep until lunchtime.”

“How could I sleep when you’re making my favourite pancakes?” Raisa slowly pushed herself into a seated position. “I hope you brought me some.”

Ashraf revealed a tray from behind the door. On it was a plate of banana pancakes stacked high and dripping with syrup. There was also a cup of English breakfast tea and a bowl of grapes. “Your wish is my command.”

“I knew I married you for a reason,” Raisa joked as Ashraf placed the tray in front of her.

“You mean you didn’t marry me for my dashing looks and charm?” Ashraf lay on the bed beside her and gently kissed her cheek.

“That too, but mainly the pancakes,” Raisa told him in mock seriousness as she used the fork to cut the pancakes and spear a piece into her mouth. A low moan escaped her lips. “These are so good.”

The easy smile of Ashraf’s that Raisa loved slowly lit up his features. He reached for the bowl of grapes and popped one in his mouth. “It’s not often we get to spend time together, just the two of us. I wanted to make the most of it.”

“Remind me to thank your parents for taking Aishia off our hands for the weekend,” Raisa said as she forked another mouthful of pancake. 

Ashraf started slowly trailing his index finger up Raisa’s leg. “Y’know, my parents aren’t bringing her home until later. We still have a few hours to kill.”

“Oh yeah?” Raisa flashed him her best flirty smile. “What did you have in mind.”

They leaned towards one another. Raisa closed her eyes in anticipation of their lips meeting but a loud knock on the door ruined the moment. “Who’s that?” Raisa asked with a glance over her shoulder.

Ashraf sighed. “It’s time for you to go.” 

“Go?” Deep furrows creased Raisa’s brow. “Go where?”

“Back,” Was his cryptic reply. 

“Back?” Raisa asked urgently. “What d’you mean back? Back where?”

“You need to go through the door,” Ashraf told her gently. “And go back. You don’t belong here.”

“Don’t belong here?” She asked, her voice rising. “This is my home.”

“No, it isn’t,” he replied.

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the knock came again. It was louder this time, more insistent. Raisa climbed out of bed and stood before the door. “Who is that?”

“They’re calling you back,” Ashraf replied. “Go to them.”

Raisa climbed onto the bed and gently placed her hands on either side of Ashraf’s face. “I don’t understand. Who’s calling me back? Who are they?”

“Go to them,” He told her, not answering her question. His brown eyes bored deep into her soul.

Climbing off the bed again, Raisa approached the door slowly. She reached for the handle. Hesitating, she looked to Ashraf. He smiled at her and nodded. Rasia firmly gripped the handle and opened the door, to be greeted by nothing. There was nothing beyond the door, just a black void.

Raisa looked at Ashraf again. He wasn’t alone anymore. Aishia was sitting on the bed with her father. Both of them smiled softly at her. “Come home to us,” he told her. “We’ll be waiting.” She longed to remain with them. She wanted to climb onto the bed and spend a lazy Sunday with the two most important people in her life, but Ashraf was adamant that she go through the door.

Taking a deep breath, Raisa looked straight ahead. She closed her eyes and stepped through the door.

The warmth surrounding her seeped away, replaced by the cold with a damp feeling on her back. The smell of pancakes was gone. In its place the acrid smell of burning filled her nostrils. When she opened her eyes again, she was looking up into the face of Lieutenant Tanner. “Welcome back to the land o’the livin’.” 

“What happened?” Raisa asked groggily. She looked beyond Tanner to find a Klingon warrior standing over them with a disruptor rifle in hand. Behind him, were the dark grey clouds of a planet in the depths of fall. “Now I remember,” she groaned.

“What is her condition?” An unfamiliar voice rumbled in a tone that commanded respect. Raisa looked up at the source of the voice to find a middle-aged Klingon woman waiting for an answer. There was no doubt who was in command here.

Tanner glanced at his tricorder. “She’s got a few bumps an’ bruises. Nothin’ more serious.” He turned to Raisa and reached out a hand. “Let’s get you up outta the dirt.” 

Raisa placed her hand in his and was helped to her feet. The nameless guarded shepherd Raisa and Tanner over to the others where they were made to stand in a line. Standing in front of a crashed Klingon shuttle, there was little point trying to convince the Klingons that their Romulan disguises were real. “I’m Commander Raisa Shukri, of the Federation starship Ark Royal.”

“I know who you are,” the Klingon rumbled, her low voice like stones grinding against one another. “I am Tavara, daughter of Lorgath!” 

Raisa shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “What do you plan to do with us?”

“That depends on you,” Tarava replied, her steely gaze falling on Raisa. “If you cooperate, you will be allowed an honourable death, to take your place among the warriors of Sto-vo-Kor.”

“And if we don’t?” Callahan asked.

Tavara trod slowly through the wet grass to stand in front of Callahan until mere inches were separating their noses. “You will be executed as spies, destined to spend eternity in the company of Fek’lhr and the rest of the damned.”

Despite the hushed tone Tavara used, the threat sent a shiver down Raisa’s spine. She didn’t know what cooperating with the Klingons looked like, but she could hazard a guess and she didn’t like it. Her fears were confirmed when Tavara approached her again.

“Tell me what you know of the Romulan, Tovan Livek.”

“Who?” Raisa asked innocently.

Raisa realised her mistake instantly. In two powerful strides, Tavara closed the distance between them. She grabbed Raisa’s neck in her powerful grip. “Do not toy with me human. You are here to retrieve the defector and steal his knowledge for yourself.” The Klingon’s rancid breath brushed over Raisa’s skin. “Tell me where he is.”

She grabbed at Tavara’s hands, desperate to loosen the Klingon’s grip on her neck but her attempts were futile. “I…don’t…know.” She gasped.

“I don’t believe you,” Tavara snarled as she lifted Raisa off the ground.

Raisa gasped for breath but couldn’t pull enough in to fill her lungs. The longer this went on, the more acute her panic. Tell her. She flailed around uselessly as the darkness started eating at the periphery of her vision. Tell her what she wants to know. It wouldn’t be long until she lost consciousness.  She was vaguely aware of her friends screaming at Tavara to stop, but she couldn’t make out their words.

Just as she felt the darkness begin to overpower her, and she resigned herself to never seeing Ashraf or Aisha again, Raisa felt the solid ground beneath her feet again. Tavara’s hand disappeared from her neck and Raisa doubled over, gasping for air. She felt a hand gently rub her back and soothing words in her ear, though her oxygen-starved brain struggled to recognise the voice.

“Now,” Tavara’s gravelly voice broke through the fog. “Will you cooperate, or shall I execute a member of your team?”

Looking up, Raisa found Tavara’s intent gaze on her. The Klingon’s grin made Raisa’s stomach lurch. She glanced sideways at her people. Each of them looked resolute in the face of their captor’s threat. She thought da Costa looked pale, but she could hardly blame him. He’d told them earlier that this was his first away mission. So far he’d crashed the shuttle and been taken prisoner and threatened with execution. As away missions went, this wasn’t a great one to cut your teeth on.

Tavara grabbed Raisa’s face, her fingers digging into the soft flesh, and forced their eyes to meet. “What will it be? Cooperation or death?”

It was subtle at first, Raisa barely noticed it. But Tavara’s grip on Raisa’s face relaxed and she began falling forward. Raisa held the Klingon’s weight, unsure what was happening. It was only when she looked down at Tavara’s back and saw a small trail of smoke coming from what looked like a disruptor burn that it finally clicked. Tavara was dead. Shot by an unseen enemy.

Looking around, Tavara wasn’t alone. The other Klingons guarding them had crumpled to the ground. Raisa let Tavara’s body fall before grabbing the warrior’s disruptor. With weapons pointed, the team looked around frantically searching for whoever had killed the Klingons.

“What the hell just happened?” Raisa asked rhetorically. She didn’t expect her team to know any more than she did. Did they have a guardian angel watching over them? Or was whoever killed the Klingons playing with them?

“Shot in the back,” Tanner observed dryly. “I’m pretty sure that means she’s the one spending the rest of eternity with Fek’lhr.”

Raisa allowed herself a brief smile but it quickly disappeared when da Costa’s worried voice caught her attention. “Uh, ma’am?” 

Raisa followed his gaze. From the treeline behind them, a group of Romulans emerged from the trees. Though dressed in civilian clothes, each of them was armed with a disruptor pistol at their waist. A few of them carried larger rifles. The man leading them appeared to be in his fifties with salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper, but given the life span of a Romulan, he was doubtless much older.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Pointing her disruptor at the lead figure, Raisa shouted, “Stay where you are.”

“You can lower your weapons.” He slung his disruptor over his shoulder and held up his hands. “We pose no threat.”

Raisa didn’t move. “Who are you?”

“I am Jalen Ralok,” He replied calmly. “The question is, who are you?”

“We,” Raisa hesitated, “saw this Starfleet shuttle crash. By the time we reached it, the Klingons had already arrived. They took us prisoner.”

Nodding slowly as Raisa told her story, Ralok’s features gave nothing away. “And what of the shuttle’s crew?”

“There was no trace of them,” Raisa replied confidently. “The Klingons must have disposed of their bodies.”

Only once Raisa was finished spinning her story did Ralok react. “An interesting story, but not the truth, I fear.”

“What-”

“I believe you are the shuttle’s crew,” Ralok announced. “Disguised as Romulans to allow you to move freely about this world.” His features darkened. “Or as freely as our new Klingon overloads will allow.”

Raisa took a step forward. “We are Romulans.”

The amused smile that crossed Ralok’s lips suggested he still didn’t believe her. She said something in Romulan, which the universal translator couldn’t translate. Raisa knew she’d been caught out, but still she tried to maintain her cover. 

“I-”

Whatever Raisa planned to say, and she wasn’t sure what that was going to be, was lost when Callahan cut her off. “You’re right. We are the shuttle’s crew. We’re Starfleet officers from the USS Ark Royal.”

Raisa turned sharply and glowered at Callahan. She couldn’t fathom why the strategic operations officer would give up their cover like that, but it was done now and they would have to hope for the best.

“Why are you here?” One of Ralok’s companions asked, anger burning in their eyes. “The help your Klingon lapdogs subjugate us?” She leaned closer to Ralok. “We should kill them and leave them here with the rest of the vermin.”

Ralok spoke a few harsh words in Romulan. The only thing Raisa could pick out was the young woman’s name; Areina. “Some of my people believe you are here to help the Klingons subjugate our world.”

“But not you?” There was something in his tone that suggested he disagreed.

“No,” Ralok replied. “Our peoples may have spent much of the past three centuries as enemies, but conquest is not the Federation way.  And if you were here to help them,” He pulled the disruptor from his belt and fired twice at Tavara’s lifeless body, “why would they have shot you down and taken you prisoner?” Ralok took a deep breath. “But that doesn’t answer my colleague’s initial question; why are you here?”

Raisa opened her mouth to respond, but once again, Callahan did the speaking. “We’re here to meet with your leaders. To co-ordinate the liberation of your world with them, but we need to reach the capital.”

“What does the Federation care about a Romulan world this far from your space?” Areina asked.

“The Federation will provide assistance to anyone who asks for it,” Raisa replied. The guilt over lying to the Ralok and his people sat uneasily in Raisa’s chest, but Callahan had dug them into this hole, and there was no going back now.

Ralok huddled with his people, speaking in clipped tones in Romulan. It was clear that Areina objected to helping them. Luckily for the Starfleet officers, Ralok was in charge. 

“We will help you reach the capital,” he announced, turning to face the Starfleet officers. “But it will have to wait until morning. Night will soon fall and the Klingons have declared martial law. Their curfew begins in less than an hour.”

Having to wait until morning wasn’t ideal, but a curfew would make it impossible to travel after nightfall. Raisa noticed da Costa wince and grab his left side as he bent down to grab a few of the phasers the Klingons had confiscated. He noticed Raisa watching him but gently shook his head. She made a mental note to have Tanner check him out once they reached Ralok’s camp.

The Romulans led them into the forest. The heavens opened and the sound of the rain pattering against the canopy high above them filled the air. The leaves beneath their feet were already wet and made a few steep downhill sections of the path they took slippery. Raisa had to reach out for Callahan on one occasion to remain upright.

“Why did you tell him we’re here to liberate them from the Klingons?” Raisa muttered as she walked closely beside Callahan.

“I figured it was our best chance of getting them to help us,” Callahan replied.

Her gambit had proven successful, though Raisa hated lying to Ralok in order to secure his help. He seemed like a reasonable man. She was sure if they explained the situation to him, he would still have helped them. But Callahan was right, this was their best guarantee. Raisa would just have to deal with her guilt.

“Send a message to Ark Royal,” Raisa ordered. “Update them on our situation.”

Callahan pulled a small device from her cloak and began tapping out a brief message. Ahead of them, Tanner and da Costa chatted as they walked, like they were part of a hiking group taking a walk through this beautiful forest. Tanner was doing the lion’s share of the talking, but that wasn’t unusual. In the short time she’d known him, da Costa had come across as shy and slow to open up.

As she continued to watch the two men in front of her, something seemed off. It looked like da Costa was struggling to put one foot in front of another. “Everything alright, da Costa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” He replied, though his breathing sounded laboured. He only made it a few more steps before he stumbled and fell to the ground.

Raisa reached his side as Tanner rolled da Costa onto his back. His eyes rolled back into his head.

“Rafa,” Tanner called as he gently patted da Costa’s cheek. “Rafa, can you hear me?”

Tanner pulled a tricorder from his cloak and began scanning the unconscious da Costa, but Raisa was already tearing at his clothes. “Oh god,” She breathed as she pulled his shirt back to find a large deep purple bruise on the left side of da Costa’s body. “He’s bleeding internally.”

“His spleen’s ruptured,” Tanner announced. “We need to get him to a hospital, now.”

Raisa was aware of the sound of leaves rustling as someone stepped beside her. “That won’t be possible,” Ralok told them. “The Klingons would find him immediately.”

“Do you have a doctor in your group?” Raisa asked, looking up at the Romulan leader.

Ralok nodded. “Yes. Bring him, we must hurry.”

With Tanner taking one arm, Raisa took the other and between them, they supported da Costa’s weight, through his boots dragged across the ground.

“Hang on, da Costa,” Raisa muttered. “That’s an order.”