“A ghost returns,” said a voice from the darkness beyond the shuttlebay.

Major Dravik spun as his hand went to his sheath, his eyes snapping to the shape of the lithe snake. “It is unwise to appear at a man’s back, lest your purpose be mistaken.” His eyes narrowed on her as his hand lingered on the hilt.

Sub-Commander Satrin stepped forward just enough that the dim green underglow lit her face. “Now, now, Major,” she smiled coyly, her tone equal parts cold and condescending. “I did not take you the type to fear the shadows.”

“I fear not the shadows,” Major Dravik countered darkly. “But I question your purpose.”

Sub-Commander Satrin tilted her head slightly. “Is it so strange that a ship’s first officer would take an interest in the wellbeing of a subordinate who has been missing just long enough to, oh, I don’t know… run out and back to Unloth?”

No reaction.

“Virinat?”

Still no reaction.

“Ah yes, then perhaps… Rator?”

The faintest clench of his jaw.

Her lips creased ever so slightly. “Yes, of course. Rator. Even in our reality, Rator did breed a certain sort of creature.”

“You’d best tread carefully, Sub-Commander,” Major Dravik snarled. She’d been necessary, a means of securing the loyalty of their crew when they first took the Decius from her, but now, her usefulness might be about at its end. He’d gladly tie off that loose end. “The seas are shifting beneath your feet, and you fail to even see it.”

“I see well enough, Major,” Sub-Commander Satrin replied darkly.

“Time will tell,” Major Dravik said as his hand fell from his hilt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an offer to deliver. The future awaits.” It was more than he should’ve said, but all his discipline and his training had been overcome by an unfamiliar sense of optimism.

He stepped past her, and she watched him go.

She had had a sense for the offer he carried, and in it, perhaps Nethak would hear the voice of destiny. Desperate men often did. But this was not their galaxy. This was not their past, nor their future. This was something different altogether. Scarred by betrayal and wounded by an unwinnable fight, this Empire was a dying animal, but then again, so too were the colonel and his lapdog. And she had no intention of getting bit.

But her worries and her fears were no matter to the major. She was no matter to the major. She was insignificant. After a few twists and turns, and up two levels, Major Dravik found himself at the threshold of Colonel Nethak’s sanctum, a place far from prying eyes. 

The door hissed open and he stepped through.

“I bring word from the Empire,” Major Dravik said simply.

Standing there, Colonel Nethak said nothing at first, letting the words linger. The Empire. The Romulan Empire. To know it not as memory or elegy, but as a living thing still capable of answering, it was what he hungered for more than anything. And now it was within reach. “Tell me, old friend, of what does the Empire see in its lost sons?”

Major Dravik’s lips creased with the slightest hint of a smile. “It sees men who crossed the veil carrying experience, resolve, and a warbird ready for the fight.”

Colonel Nethak’s brow tightened. “We are not mere fodder for their war. We bring knowledge of the Federation’s capabilities and inner workings, knowledge the Federation would not have freely shared in the midst of a war.” He wanted a restored Empire, yes, but only if he was afforded his rightful place within it. “Our assistance comes not without a price.”

“They were made to understand,” Major Dravik nodded. “We are not summoned to kneel at the edge of the hall, grateful for recognition. No, to us, Rator offers standing, command, and purpose, not as relics of another reality, but as men within the inner orbit of a new order.”

“Standing… command… purpose…” Colonel Nethak repeated back, each word carrying weight against the years since Romulus burned. “And what do they ask in return?”

Major Dravik’s expression did not change. “Nothing that was not inevitable.”

That drew a quiet, humorless chuckle from Colonel Nethak. “Loyalty, then.”

“Loyalty,” Major Dravik confirmed. “And alignment. They ask not whether you are willing to stand with the Empire, Colonel, but only whether you still remember how.”

“Is that even a question?” Colonel Nethak nodded. “For sixteen years, I have stood ready.” It was time. “What, then, comes next?”

“The Juno,” Major Dravik replied. “We are to deliver them the Juno. They seek to study her, to learn what they do not know, both of their enemy and of where their enemy may go.”

Nethak did not so much as blink. It was no different than he would have asked. It would be a demonstration of loyalty, and it would give them an edge. The Juno carried innovations of a Federation not focused solely on war, but innovations too that could indicate what the Federation of this reality might someday achieve. “That should be no problem.”

“Then it is decided?” Major Dravik said.

Colonel Nethak simply nodded. This was their Empire now.