“Anything?” Sidda asked as she stepped up beside Orelia at the Ops console.

“Three merchants and two more Starfleet ships have asked us to cut out broadcasting on so many frequencies. Two merchants have asked us to send them the album collection and one politely sent us their music collection and told us to play good music.” Orelia tapped at her screens and brought the messages up for Sidda to scroll through. “But otherwise, nothing.”

“This one,” she said with a tap to the last message to show Orelia. “Keep an eye out for them. If we ever run into them, I’ll show them what good music sounds like.”

“You aren’t shooting at someone over music disagreements,” Orelia said.

“Fuck you, Kolar Blight is awesome and they will be forced to admit it.”

“Kolar Blight is horrible,” Revin countered. “I love you Sidda, but your music choices are questionable at best.”

While Sidda herself had been pacing the bridge, Revin, not having anything else to do at this time, had come to visit and opted to take the only seat available. Revin had been slowly turning the seat around to keep Sidda in view but her attention was on a padd that she was reading and running her fingers running along its screen, still working on putting the written word with what she’d learnt.

“I gotta agree Boss, Kolar Blight is horrific,” Lewis chipped in. “Now, Qo’nos Death Guard, that’s a band.”

A loud knock on a console to gain attention and Orin’s disagreement was seen by all. ‘Vulcan Philharmonic Orchestra.’ Notably, no one tried to hassle the large man about his choice of preferred music, though Tavol nodded in approval.

“I actually like this human group of royal bards I found,” Revin spoke lyrically. “Queen, I think it was called.”

“Uh, that’s not,” Lewis turned to look at Revin, a finger raised in objection, then shook his head with a smile. “You know what, it’s not important. But a good choice in classical music.”

“Fucking mutiny,” Sidda muttered. “Airlock, the lot of you.”

“We’re all kinda busy. Space ourselves later?” Orelia asked.

“Yah all right,” Sidda conceded. “Just when you’ve got nothing better to do, see yourself out.”

“You look and sound better cousin. The brooding look was starting to wear thin,” Orelia said, quietly so only Sidda and possibly Revin could hear.

“I’m still fucking pissed. But I’ve got something to aim that anger at now and we’re going to make them pay.” Sidda’s left hand was drumming her fingers across the top of Orelia’s console, each finger falling heavy and forceful.

“Would you sit down?” Orelia then asked. “Peering over everyone’s shoulder is going to make things go faster.”

“I would,” Sidda replied, her hand falling to the sword on her hip, “but this thing makes sitting down a pain in the backside.”

“Take it off then. And besides, it’s a stupid showpiece and you know it.”

“And get surprised by the Devore? No thank you.”

“We’re not going to get,” Orelia started before an unhappy chirp from her console stopped her in her tracks. “Devore warship on an intercept course,” she grumbled, looking at Sidda who was now grinning at her coincidental victory. “Twenty minutes at present intercept velocities.”

“That only took half a day running at their borders,” Sidda remarked as she then walked over to her chair, leaning forward to give Revin a quick kiss on the forehead before tapping the button and summoning forth a warbling alert through the ship indicating an all-hands announcement. No Starfleet whistle on this ship.

“All hands to your stations. Make ready to repel boarders. If you have a weapon with a stun setting, use it, I’d like to take some prisoners to ask questions of. Otherwise, well, make it quick folks.”

As Sidda lifted her finger from the button, Revin grabbed her wrist and looked up into her eyes. “Where do you want me?”

“At your station galleymate,” Sidda teased. “Kevak, K’tah and Lern will keep you safe. After all, we are going to get boarded shortly and I’d rather you behind the Klingons than potentially in front of them. And the Devore are likely to target critical areas first.”

“The galley is critical,” Revin said, slowly getting to her feet, well within Sidda’s personal bubble, intimately close. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“So do I,” Sidda answered, enjoying the extremely close proximity a moment more then sent Revin on her way.

“Time?” she asked Orelia.

“Eighteen minutes.”

With all the impatience of a child on a long trip, Sidda paced the bridge, occasionally asking for updates on the time. Whatever universal principle dictated that when one was waiting for something time had to slow down settled over the Vondem Rose as the next fifteen minutes stretched out into eternity.

“Incoming hail from the Devore,” Orelia announced before putting it on the main screen.

“Gaharay vessel, you will cut your drives immediately and prepare your crew for inspection,” the officious-looking middle-aged man on the screen announced. “Your ship will be searched for any telepaths. If you are found to be transporting telepaths your ship will be impounded, and your crew detained and relocated to a penal colony. Any attempt to escape will be an admission of guilt and you will be fired upon.”

The Vondem Rose’s visual pickup and been set to maintain a close crop of Sidda’s face, to hide the bridge layout and to hide the fact that everyone was armed at the moment. With that in mind, Sidda tried to put on her best innocent face. “I’m sorry, under whose authority are you ordering me to a stop?”

“Under the authority of the Devore Imperium, all gaharay vessels will be searched before proceeding any further if not immediately turned around.”

“Oh, Devore!” Sidda said. “I thought your borders were another two days away at our best speed. Have we made better time than we thought? Must excuse us, our inertial reference positioning system needs calibration I think.”

The patience of the Devore officer was starting to wear, the exasperated sigh evidence enough. “You have ten seconds to cut your engines and await further instructions.” And with that, the channel was cut.

“He was a barrel of laughs,” Lewis chimed in. “’Oh sure, you have made great time. We’ll help fix your IRPS. Thanks for taking an interest in the Devore Imperium, but we’re busy being galactic bullies at the moment. Come back in the tourist season.’ Jerk.”

“Cut the engines Lewis, let’s play dumb for the jackboots.” As the ship dropped out of warp in deep space, awaiting the Devore interceptor in a few minutes, Sidda couldn’t help but smile. All according to plan. “Orin and Deidrick at the transporter?” she asked Orelia, getting a nod in response. “Still okay to manually target the weapons?”

“No targeting scanners to give us away, weapons only discharging their capacitors means we’ve got one volley, then about twenty seconds to bring them back up to charge to continue any fighting.” And Orelia too was grinning. “And one torpedo in the tube, preprogrammed for straight flight and contact detonation.”

“One hell of a brick to throw through a window,” Lewis added. “Helmed locked out Boss. No way one of them is flying my baby.”

A minute passed and then the viewscreen came to life once more. The same boring yet angry-looking toadie appeared on the screen. “Gaharay vessel, lower your shields and prepare for inspection. All crew are to step away from their consoles, disarm themselves and make themselves available for inspection. Failure to comply within twenty seconds will be considered an admission of guilt.”

“All right, all right,” Sidda replied. “Happy now?” She could hear Orelia complying, as well as a keyed sequence putting a computer plan into motion. The Rose’s sensors were watching, waiting for the first inbound transporter signals before the program would activate.

The reply to Sidda’s acquiescence was just the channel going dead. And then she heard it – the whine of transporters depositing invaders to her ship across so much of the ship. In one smooth action, she drew her disruptor and aimed it right at the face of the man materialising at the front of her bridge.

“Hi,” she said as he fully materialised and the discontinuity of the transporter ended. He had just a moment to take in his surroundings, specifically the ugly end of a Klingon disruptor right in his face. The vaguely cross-eyed look as he looked at the weapon was worth it she decided.

“Bye.”