The undercover team on Pergamon had discovered the location of Captain Forrester. While the USS Endurance had been dispatched to follow that lead, the USS Midway had received a different task. Locate and secure the husband of the Romulan who had provided Forrester’s location. All Niran had been able to tell them was that he believed his husband was on Izar.

The Midway sprinted through the vacuum of space, racing towards the planet Izar as fast as she could travel. The time until they arrived in orbit was now being counted in minutes. At the science console on the port side of the bridge, Captain Taro and Lieutenant T’Piren worked to locate the man they were looking for: Ian Morrison, husband of Niran Syral.

“I have narrowed down the possibilities to one hundred and fifty-three.”

It turned out that Ian Morrison was a fairly common name on Izar. Their initial search returned over two hundred results. It would have been easier to find an actual needle in a haystack. With the computer’s help, they’d whittled those results down to the one hundred and fifty-three currently displayed in front of them.

“Is there any way we could narrow those down further?” Niya asked, standing over Lieutenant T’Piren’s shoulder.

T’Piren considered the question for a moment. “If we could determine an approximate time frame of when Mister Morrison arrived on the planet, we could scan transit records for him.”

“He spent a week on Risa with his husband in October last year,” Niya said. “We believe he travelled to Izar soon after.”

Lieutenant T’Piren worked diligently under Taro’s expectant gaze until she finally announced, “I believe I have located our target.”

“Thank the prophets,” Taro muttered. On the screen, a single entry on the transit records was flashing. “According to this, a man named Ian Morrison travelled here from Risa in November last year. A one-way booking. Do you have a location for him?”

T’Piren seemed to be working on that before Taro even asked. “The last records I can find are from January.”

“He’s probably moved on since then,” Taro muttered.

T’Piren nodded. “A logical assumption.”

“Is there any other way of tracking him?” Taro asked.

“Perhaps,” T’Piren replied. “His last known place of residence was in this district.”

T’Piren displayed a map of New Seattle on the screen with a grid overlaid. One square of the grid pulsed slowly.

“Can you access the logs for the Izar comm network?” Taro asked.

T’Piren nodded slowly. “I will require several minutes to establish a connection.”

Niya folded her arms. “The briefing pack we received mentioned that Syral last spoke to his husband back in March, but their conversation was interrupted by The Blackout. If we can locate any comm logs between people in this area and Pergamon V-”

“We may be able to determine where the precise coordinates it originated from,” T’Piren surmised. “I have established a connection. Beginning a search of comm logs from around the time The Blackout began.”

As T’Piren worked, Lieutenant Calderwood’s voice rang across the bridge. “Captain, we’re approaching Izar.”

“Slow to impulse and request orbital vectors,” Niya ordered.

The Midway dropped out of warp and continued slowly at impulse. “Midway to Izar Control. Requesting orbital vectors.”

“Sending vectors now,” The voice of Izar control replied. “Welcome to Izar, Midway.”

When Niya turned her attention back to the science console, communications logs were scrolling past on the screen faster than she could follow. T’Piren’s concentration on the task at hand was absolute. Her eyes continually scanned the logs while her fingers tapped out commands.

“I believe I have it,” T’Piren finally announced.

On the screen, a single log entry flashed. “A secure communication to Pergamon V.”

“I have the coordinates the communication originated from,” T’Piren said. “It is an apartment building in the southeastern quarter of the city.”

Niya turned to her Chief of Security. “Lieutenant Rinor, would you be so good as to escort our guest aboard?”

Ian’s legs ached as he walked along the street near his apartment. He hated leg day for a reason. He could hear Niran’s voice teasing him. Niran was forever telling him that Romulan exercise methods were far superior to those preferred by humans. But he never complained about the results when they were in bed together. Memories of the last night they spent together filled him with warmth. These days, they were the only thing keeping him warm.

Smiling at one of his neighbours as they passed, Ian rounded the last corner that led to his street. His smile fell when he spotted two people standing outside his apartment. Two people in Starfleet uniforms. One of them, a Bajoran, quickly spotted him. 

“Ian Morrison?”

Taking a few steps back, Ian turned and started walking away. He could hear their footsteps behind him. They were following him. His heart thundered in his chest like a mighty drum. He dropped his gym bag and started walking faster.

“Stop!”

Not a chance, Ian thought as he started running. The ache in his legs was completely forgotten about as he ran along the street, dodging other people on the pavement. Why were Starfleet chasing him? Niran had always told him Starfleet couldn’t be trusted.

Chancing a look over his shoulder, Ian could see the Starfleet Officers a few metres behind him. He ran as fast as he could. If he were to lose his pursuers, he needed to put as much distance between them as possible. He turned left, round the next corner and barrelled into someone standing on the pavement. They tumbled to the ground.

Ian had only just pushed himself off the man he’d run into when a pair of hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. He came face-to-face with one of the Starfleet officers.

“Who are you?” He demanded. “What do you want?”

Much to Ian’s surprise, the Bajoran released his grip on him. “My name is Lieutenant Rinor Kel, from the Federation starship Midway. Are you Ian Morrison?”

Ian’s experience with Starfleet was limited, but Niran didn’t trust Starfleet and having just been chased down by two of their officers, he wasn’t sure he did either. What did they want with him? Did this have something to do with Niran? He’d always warned Ian to trust no one.

“No,” Ian replied with a shake of his head. “I don’t know who that is.”

Rinor gave Ian an unimpressed look. “Our records suggest otherwise.”

“What d’you want?”

“I need you to come with me,” Rinor said. “Niran Syral sent us.” 

“Niran?” How did they know his name?

Rinor nodded. “He believes you’re in danger, and he’s asked us to bring you aboard our ship. You’ll be safe there.”

“What do you mean by ‘danger’?” Ian’s voice quivered as he spoke.

Rinor looked around them before leaning in and lowering his voice. “He believes the man he works for has sent an assassin after you.”

“Why would his commander want to kill me?” 

Niran’s commander was a dangerous man, Niran had told him as much, but Ian couldn’t understand why he would want him dead. Had Niran done something wrong? Or were these just Starfleet lies? Niran had always warned him never to trust someone in a Starfleet uniform.

“I don’t have an answer to that question,” Rinor told him. “My orders are to escort you aboard the Midway.”

“Niran wouldn’t send Starfleet,” Ian said, taking a step back. “He’s always told me you couldn’t be trusted.”

This didn’t feel right. If they wanted to, Rinor and his friend could force him to go with them, but Ian wasn’t going to go like a lamb to the slaughter. If they tried to grab him, he’d fight like hell to get away.

“No,” Ian said, taking another step back. “You’re lying. You…you want to lock me up, interrogate me.”

Rinor didn’t move. “Why would Starfleet want to interrogate you?”

“I don’t know,” Ian shrugged. “Maybe about Niran, about his work. I don’t know anything. He never talked about it.”

“Your husband’s already in protective custody,” Rinor told him. “He’s due to travel to Bastion Station soon, where we’ll reunite the two of you.”

Ian’s head was spinning. He wanted to believe Rinor. He was desperate to believe him. But this seemed too good to be true. Rinor must have picked up on Ian’s inner turmoil.

“Ian,” Rinor began. “I understand your scepticism. You have no reason to trust me. But right now you have two options: you can come with me to the Midway, where you’ll be safe, or you can remain on Izar, where you’ll almost certainly die. I don’t want to see that happen.”

While Rinor seemed genuine, he may just have been a skilled liar. He couldn’t risk trusting these people. He would tell them no and see what they did. 

“I’m not going with you,” Ian said with more confidence than he felt. “You’ll have to take me by force.”

Rinor’s lips quirked. “Starfleet isn’t in the business of kidnapping people. I can’t force you to come with us. I can only implore you to consider your safety. If your husband is right and there’s an assassin out there hunting for you, you don’t stand a chance on your own.”

That was unexpected. Ian thought they would lose patience, grab him and whisk them off to their ship. Ian had little experience with kidnappers, but he was sure they didn’t stand in the middle of the street arguing with their victims. They would just grab their target and go. He was beginning to think he had this all wrong.

Ian’s heart raced. His palms were clammy and his mouth dry. If Rinor was telling the truth, he would be dead in a matter of days, and he wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late. Niran had always said that his commander wasn’t a man to be crossed. Had Niran crossed him? Why? He needed to speak to Niran.

“I’ll agree to go with you,” Ian said tentatively. “But only once I’ve spoken to Niran.”

Rinor scowled. “We don’t have that kind of time. You can speak with him once you’re safely onboard the Midway.”

“No. I speak to him before I go with you, or I don’t go.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, Rinor told him, “Fine. Let’s go to your apartment, and you can contact him from there.”

Ian had barely taken one step forward when Rinor let out a shout. “Get down!”

Ian didn’t have time to react. A body charged into him, pushing him off his feet with force. As he fell, Ian could feel a searing heat pass his head, and when he hit the ground with a thud, the air was forced from his lungs. 

“Hunter probe!” The other Starfleet officer shouted.

Ian caught sight of something metallic hovering in the air. Whatever it was, it didn’t look friendly. The other officer called it a hunter probe. Hunting me, Ian realised.

The sound of phaser fire tore the air, drowning out the sound of the birds chirping above them. Rinor continued to use his own body to cover Ian, risking his life. Looking to the side, Ian saw a smouldering crater in the ground where he’d been standing just moments earlier. An explosion overhead signalled the hunter probe’s destruction. 

“All clear,” The other officer announced.

“Are you okay?” Rinor pushed herself off Ian and climbed to his feet, holding out a hand to help Ian up.

“I think so,” Ian replied. His entire body trembled. He’d been inches from death. If Rinor had acted a fraction of a second later…it didn’t bear thinking about. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Rinor told him.

Ian still wasn’t entirely certain he could trust the Starfleet officers; his near-death experience had moved him much closer in that direction. Nodding slowly, Ian said. “I think I’m ready to go to your ship now.”

“Good,” Rinor said with a genuine smile. The relief on his features was unmistakable. “In that case, we should go.” 

This planet had come the closest to feeling like home for Ian. Now, he wanted to get away from it and as far away as possible. If these Starfleet officers were telling the truth, then he would soon be reunited with his husband. Maybe the next place he settled would be with Niran, and they could begin their lives together in earnest.