Commander Teralek was a dour man on the best of days, and while the past forty-eight hours didn’t nearly qualify as the worst he’d experienced, they still made the list.
Not least of all because they required another meeting with Grand Auralik Kevenianh.​

Of course, he understood the man’s enthusiasm. His eagerness to make use of Starfleet’s presence.
But the principle of non-interference still applied, and the feud between the Roscaa and the Ry’kol wasn’t theirs to solve.

​Especially not with firepower.

​Teralek had just consigned himself to his diplomatic fate when Serith requested him to her office.
That alone was odd. Not only because her report on Aristren’s – very minor – injuries should have concluded all relevant discussions with her. But also because, as Commanding Officer,  he wasn’t exactly used to “being summoned”.

​He still went, trusting she had a good reason.
Or perhaps he was simply grateful for the delay.

​“Doctor,” he said as he stepped inside. Only then, noticing Centurion Rhaenor, standing stiffly as if he, too, had been summoned. Teralek offered him a nod. Then, his eyes locked on Serith.

​The Doctor, who had been studying her console with the focus of a predator observing prey, met his gaze.

“Commander.” A pause. “We were informed you are headed to meet with the Grand Auralik. There is something we believe you should see first.”

​Teralek felt his curiosity click into place.

​“When Commander Aristren and Rhaelle informed us of the attack,” Rhaenor began, “we assumed it was some sort of… device that made us unable to determine the number of attackers. Just like we weren’t able to beam them out on time.”

​“I remember,” Teralek replied evenly. “Now you believe something else?”

​“Yes.” Rhaenor held out a datapad – one Teralek knew he wouldn’t enjoy reading. “We’ve run continuous scans of the Night Side to determine Ry’kol numbers, but were unable to detect … any..”

​“Not surprising,” Teralek said. “We were informed they live in subterranean tunnels.”

“We are aware.” Serith nodded. “But they are forced to leave those tunnels for the raids. One of which we know occurred two days ago. Why didn’t we detect them then?”

​Teralek’s frown deepened. He looked at Rhaenor.

​“When Serith asked me why,” Rhaenor admitted, “I couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer.” Teralek could only imagine what that conversation had been like. He doubted it had been pleasant.
“So I checked. And I realized that we did detect them, but didn’t register them as Ry’kol – or hostile.”

​“Why not?” Teralek asked.

“Because they read as Roscaa.”

​Teralek’s frown reached a depth he didn’t know it could. “You’re telling me the attackers were Roscaa?”

​“That’s the issue.” Serith cut in. “When Commander Aristren returned to the Hathos, there were clear signs of a struggle. But even our transporters didn’t pick up any trace of DNA that isn’t Romulan, Rodulan, or Roscaa.”

​“Not proof,” Rhaenor added. “But the questions it raises are… significant.”

​“The Grand Auralik will have to answer them,” Teralek exhaled once. Slow and cold.
“And Miss Aristren will help him to do so.”

​Whatever clerical mishap had assigned the Rodulan to his ship would be sorted out once they returned to Framheim station. Until then, he could at least make use of her telepathic abilities.

​He’d given her strict rules.
Made sure she wouldn’t dare cross them.

But with Rhaelle missing, circumstances had changed.
Ideals eroded. Virtues tarnished.
Even the highroad had dimly lit detours when you were no longer above things, but involved.

And the Auralik wasn’t the only one willing to make use of what was available.