The Romulan Republic shuttle slipped through the darkness amongst the shadows cast by Quorath VII and its moons. The shuttle’s cloak held steady, every system throttled down to the lowest possible output as it approached the barren surface of the outer moon. The hull vibrated lightly as the pilot adjusted the descent vector. Commander Rahal watched the terrain sweep past the cockpit window. The moon was a dead world, little more than cold rock and crater shadows: no atmosphere, no warmth, no sign of life.

Centurion Vekar studied the readings at his console, “Cloak is stable. No energy scatter. The warbird in orbit of Quorath III has not altered posture.”

“The distance works in our favor,” Rahal said, “Their sensors can barely read this moon unless they focus directly on it. And they believe no one would bother looking at a place like this.”

Lieutenant Zemess, seated behind her, glanced up from the decrypt packet, “Unless they expect someone to find their listening post.”

“They do not,” Rahal replied, “They’re arrogant enough to assume the relay is invisible.”

The shuttle engines fell silent as they descended into the wide crater near the equator. The landing pads extended with a soft hiss. Moments later, the shuttle touched down, stirring a brief cloud of dust that vanished into the vacuum of outer space.

“Do we have the facility on sensors?” Rahal asked.

Centurion Vekar scanned his console quietly, “Yes. Looks like minimal life support is still active, too. The air should be breathable.”

Rahal stood, “Good. Beam down in formation. Quiet entry.”

The mixed team of six Starfleet and Republic personnel gathered on the transporter pad at the rear of the shuttle with weapons at the ready and equipment secured. With a nod from Rahal, the pilot activated the transporter, and the beam took them in a halo of green light.

They reappeared inside a narrow passage carved directly into the rock. The air was indeed thin but breathable. Emergency strips along the floor pulsed a dull amber glow that gave only the faintest sense of direction.

Zemess swept the corridor with a tricorder, “No lifesigns. Environmental controls at minimum levels. Power levels steady but unstaffed.”

“Someone activated this place and then left it,” Vekar said quietly.

“Or they were never here to begin with,” Rahal answered, “Stay alert.”

They moved deeper into the installation. The architecture was unmistakably Romulan, but cleaner and sharper than Tal Shiar designs from past decades. Panels were newer. Interfaces updated. The style carried the mark of the Free State: control through precision, secrecy through modern efficiency.

They reached the central operations chamber. The relay core dominated the room, a tall column of interlinked arrays that pulsed with steady green and silver light. Despite the emptiness of the rest of the facility, the machine looked fully alive.

One of the Republic specialists approached the console, hands moving rapidly across its controls, “Commander Rahal, this is not an autonomous relay. It is following command instructions in real time. The signal patterns are active.”

Zemess tilted his head, “From where?”

The specialist hesitated, “Not from here.”

Rahal stepped closer, “Then trace it.”

The specialist keyed a sequence. Lines of Romulan script scrolled across the display. The trace backtracked through encrypted pathways, bouncing between false leads until it locked onto a single unmistakable source. The Republic officer looked up, face tightening, “Commander. Commands are coming directly from the Free State warbird above Quorath III.”

The room fell still. Zemess broke the silence, “So the warbird is not simply present. It is controlling this site moment by moment. They likely have undercover operatives on the surface right now.”

“Which means they are watching the data they are feeding into the Quorathi communications net,” Vekar added, “They will know if the flow is interrupted.”

Rahal stared at the relay core. The faint pulse of its lights suddenly felt predatory, as if the machine were listening to them. She sighed, “They know we are in orbit of the planet. They know the Devoras is here. They are shaping the narrative to turn the council against us while we’re still here and have to answer for it.”

“And all of it from a remote operation,” Zemess said, “That suggests they did not risk a crew here because they never expected anyone else to find this moon.”

Vekar nodded, “Which gives us our advantage. They believe this place is secure. That means we can still disable it before they realize we are here.”

Rahal drew a slow breath before sighing, “Begin analysis. Find the failsafes. We shut it down cleanly and quietly. No alerts. No spikes in power. Not one piece of data goes back to the warbird.”

The team moved at once, spreading out across the control room. Rahal kept her eyes on the relay core, feeling its rhythm as if it were listening. “They think they are going to control the story,” she murmured, “Not today.”