The moment they emerged from the airlock, they were surrounded.

‘Welcome to Sot Thryfar, Starfleet!’ boomed a wiry Bajoran man with salt and pepper in his hair at the head of a dozen-strong crowd of mixed species, genders, and attires, all toting overly large weaponry. He was not the traffic controller who had greeted them, and while his disruptor pistol lay nestled in a holster at his hip, it was clear he commanded the guns around him. ‘We’re your tour group.’

Kharth narrowed her eyes as she took in the group: dishevelled, with gear in varying conditions, and even the ones smiling looked like they were doing it with bared teeth. ‘This is some hospitality,’ she drawled. ‘I’m Commander Kharth. You are?’

‘Crow Ulrik,’ said the Bajoran with a smile like the edge of a blade. His name received a low hum of approval from the crowd.

‘Should that mean something to me?’ Kharth countered.

‘He’s one of the Three Lost Crows,’ said Logan in a low voice. ‘One of the founders.’

‘Points for the xB,’ said Ulrik, clicking his fingers at him. ‘My associates want a word. Because we are why you’re here, aren’t we? You followed my associates from Scarix in a hunt for justice?’

‘We followed your associates in a hunt for answers,’ Kharth said levelly. ‘We can do a conversation.’

‘Obviously,’ growled Logan, ‘we don’t need to warn you that if we don’t check in, Gateway Station knows where we are and this will turn from an investigation to a purge real fast.’

‘You’re here to get the lay of the land as newcomers,’ said Ulrik impassively. ‘We’re minded to have this meeting, and then you know the score, and then we see how things roll out in the sector. So you should come with me.’ But even as he turned, he clicked his fingers at one of his crowd. ‘Gale, watch their ship.’

Kharth’s eyebrows went up, and she turned to Lindgren. ‘Lieutenant, watch our ship.’ The pilot looked unhappy but nodded. As they fell into step, surrounded by the knot of Three Lost Crows, Kharth leaned toward Thawn. ‘Keep your senses open for danger.’

‘It’s always danger,’ Thawn replied flatly. ‘And deception. They don’t trust us. They’re ready for us to try something. I don’t think I can warn you of anything, Commander, you couldn’t guess for yourself.’

‘Always so reassuring,’ Kharth muttered.

‘This,’ Ulrik boomed as he led them down a series of corridors, ‘is the neutral hub of the sector. Don’t start trouble here, and nobody will start trouble with you. Anything you want, this is the place to arrange it. And that can extend to Starfleet, too, if you behave. Want to find lost treasures? Sensor readings of somewhere you’ve never been before? Intel on Romulan factions? That can be arranged!’ Everywhere they walked, the eyes of the disparate residents and visitors to the station were on them.

‘Let’s start,’ said Kharth in a measured voice, ‘with that “lay of the land” thing you mentioned.’

‘Of course,’ said Ulrik, ‘but it’s worth you knowing that there are benefits to behaving. Maybe next time you come, it’s not like this, huh? Ah, here we are. The Casbah.’

Every station had a recreational hub, and Sot Thryfar Station’s was huge. Stretching over three decks, through the dim lighting and neon highlights casting multicoloured hues and shadows across grubby plated bulkheads and decks, Kharth could see an array of eateries and stores, some pop-up stalls for food and trade, others more permanent businesses. Here, the officers stood out less; here, in the gloomy light and thick crowd, with their away jackets to make them less immediately recognisable as Starfleet, they were just another trio in the hubbub of the day.

‘You’re with us here,’ said Ulrik. ‘So that means you’re safe. Leave without causing trouble, maybe you’re safe next time. Wander off in the meantime? Can’t guarantee anything.’

Ulrik and the other Crows led them through the crowd to a cantina, where their escort was greeted with cheers and back slaps. The Starfleet trio were met with a mixture of surly mutters and the odd jeer, and one big Klingon pushed a tankard of something towards Kharth as a challenge in a way she felt targeted more than her uniform. But Logan stepped in, grabbing the tankard and looking the Klingon in the eye with a cheery grin before downing the entire contents.

Then he tossed the tankard to one side. ‘I’ve had better bloodwine in a Ferengi bar!’ The mix of cheers and jeers nearly took the roof off.

‘Are you in the habit,’ boomed a voice from above, and all noise stopped at once, ‘of frequenting Ferengi bars, Starfleet?’

Kharth craned her neck as the lighting inside shifted. In a heartbeat, what had been a roiling bar, or more likely a property owned and kept by the Three Lost Crows, took on more the feel of an arena. Shadows had hidden the upper balcony from sight, but now she looked up for figures above to be silhouetted against a bright light shining down on the Starfleet officers.

There were three of them, a pair near the front and one several feet away to the side. It took a moment before Ulrik ascended to join the pair, and Kharth’s throat tightened as she understood. The group had taken their name from a trio of pirates, and here the three were, together, looking down at Starfleet interlopers.

Logan still spoke first, addressed as he’d been. ‘I did have to pay in the Ferengi bar. So the hospitality here’s better.’

But there were no chuckles. The speaker was taller than Ulrik, and Kharth was left with an impression of sharp features, a beaked nose, a pointed chin. ‘Commander Kharth of the Endeavour.’ The voice was silkier now they weren’t interrupting, a mellifluous tone that could capture a room. ‘The ship that attacked the Rebirth at Teros.’

‘They had it coming,’ she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

‘And our ships at Scarix?’

‘We didn’t fight them. The monk you were marauding is fine, by the way.’

‘Let me be frank, Starfleet.’ The speaker leaned forward, bracing their arms against the railing. ‘We have been here for decades. Ulrik, Drinnia, and Tharos, the first Lost Crows.’ They gestured to their left and right at the first two names, leaving the last for themselves. In the silhouettes, Kharth could make out more of Drinnia, an iron-haired, square-shouldered woman with a glowering, piercing gaze. ‘And for decades, Starfleet did not care.’

‘For decades, this was the Neutral Zone. Times change.’

‘Even when it wasn’t the Neutral Zone, you didn’t care. People starved, people suffered, and who was there to help them? Not the Federation. Not the Empire. We were.’ Tharos shrugged. ‘Disrupt the balance of the Midgard Sector at your peril.’

‘You’ve disrupted it,’ Kharth pointed out. ‘Robbing Dyke Logistics at Scarix, threatening shipments from the Midgard Colony. Starfleet is here to stay, but we’ve barely stepped up our operations before you’re inviting trouble. Is that the point?’ She cocked her head. ‘Stir trouble, lure us here for a confrontation, and then… this?’ She waved a hand around the gathering. ‘This isn’t a meeting, it’s a statement. And not for us. It’s showing them that you won’t be intimidated by Starfleet.’

A new voice rang out, that of the woman Drinnia. ‘Then consider it a warning, Commander. You’ve grown bolder – so have we. We won’t be cowed. This region of space is ours. You’ll run soon, tail between your legs, ordered by your cowardly masters to hide behind your borders. You are a mere disruption. Don’t overstep.’

‘You have to know,’ said Kharth, ‘we won’t ignore you as you raid shipments from Midgard, rob Federation citizens at Scarix. If you don’t want a response, leave the Federation alone.’

The fourth figure, stood to one side, stepped closer to the leaders of the Three Lost Crows and leaned in. Words were passed that could not be heard. At length, Tharos stepped forward again. ‘Is that a deal you’re offering? Live and let live?’

Kharth’s shoulders slumped. ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘No, and you know it. Starfleet is here to stay, and we will protect people from thieves and raiders. Including you.’ It took more effort than she’d like to sound convinced that Starfleet would stay. Trust was tenuous, so very tenuous, after the Federation’s failure to commit to the region after the Romulan supernova. Only time could prove otherwise – to her, as much as to the Three Lost Crows.

Ulrik scoffed. ‘Good luck. You’ll never track our operations through the nebula, and you know it. Our ships will hit what they like and disappear like ghosts. You could have made an agreement, Commander. Behave at Sot Thryfar, and you can come back any time. But this was your only chance for an accord.’

‘You were never going to take it,’ Kharth scoffed. ‘Thanks for confirming that you’re high on Starfleet’s strategic concerns.’ She looked away from the trio and down to the crowd of the rest of the Crows. ‘Those three can talk big. The rest of you – you’ve got to evade Starfleet and get to the nebula on your operations. Are you looking forward to outrunning ships that aren’t decades-old, run-down Romulan warbirds and their exhausted crews? You can talk big today. It’s going to suck for you tomorrow.’

‘We’re done here,’ came Tharos’s voice from above. ‘Ulrik, show them back to their ship.’

‘Nah,’ said Kharth. ‘We know the way. We’re welcome at Sot Thryfar so long as we behave, right? And you don’t run this place.’

The eyes of all the Crows were on them as they left, but it was not until they were back in the hustle and bustle of the Casbah before any of them talked. Logan blew out his cheeks. ‘It don’t make sense to me,’ he grumbled, ‘why they step up their operations in response to Starfleet arriving. It’s just begging for trouble.’

‘They could have kept their heads down,’ Kharth agreed, ‘waiting for us to get stuck in with the Rebirth or someone else, and nibble at our ankles. They’re suddenly more aggressive than they’ve ever been.’

‘They’re scared,’ said Thawn quietly, and the others looked at her. The Betazoid grimaced. ‘That fourth person up there? Everyone was scared of her. Even the three leaders. More scared of her than they were of us.’

Logan drew a slow breath. ‘I don’t want to jump to conclusions,’ he said carefully, ‘but I could see in there better than I think they figured. She’s Orion. And I saw the kind of tattoos you’d see on someone important from Vondem.’

Kharth sucked her teeth. ‘That doesn’t mean Syndicate.’

‘It’d make sense, though, wouldn’t it?’ Logan pressed. ‘What could make the Three Lost Crows suddenly step up their operations? If the Syndicate are trying to move in, they’d need paying to back off.’

‘They were right about one thing, though,’ said Thawn. ‘Beyond influence, beyond posturing.’ At their gazes, she shrugged. ‘So long as they’re based out of the Synnef Nebula, so long as we know so little about it, we have no hope of finding them when they go to ground.’