The light was flickering, and it really annoyed him.

There was a lot to complain about in here, the dingy control centre of this dingy industrial building. The water purification facility was over a century old, and while it worked diligently to filter the colony’s rivers, its mechanisms updated and upgraded and replaced over the decades, there still much about its walls and panels and beams and non-essential systems that creaked under the weight of time.

The four staff members bound and bundled in a corner of the chamber were a problem. So were the eight or so armed Cardassians stood over them and before him. But John Rosewood was dealing with those situations, so, for now, what annoyed him was the lights.

‘I just…’ Hands in the air, stood alone before the enemy, Rosewood gave a theatrical sigh. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of this.’

‘Our demands were clear.’ The Cardassian woman named Glirra stood before the controls, a rifle in her hands. ‘All Federation colonists are to leave Nitrion IV. Otherwise, we’ll have to take steps.’

‘Screwing with the water supply will make it so nobody can live here,’ he pointed out. ‘Except the Federation has the facilities and the legal right to fix the problem and then… plop another colony right back down. The Union isn’t going to move in if the colony’s abandoned.’

‘And who’s going to move back?’ Glirra tilted her head. ‘Either Nitrion IV is poisoned and everyone has to leave, or you bow to our demands and leave. We did think about this, Starfleet. No matter what, we prove this planet isn’t safe from us. That you can’t keep it safe.’

‘You make it sound like those are the only two outcomes.’

Glirra paused. ‘You’re right,’ she said at last. ‘There are other options. Like a massacre. Does Starfleet want a massacre?’

‘Does the True Way? You guys aren’t stupid.’

His earpiece buzzed with the signal for an incoming message, and Rosewood kept the affable smile on his face as he listened to the voice of Macalor Aryn.

‘Bioweapon’s neutralised. They can hit the button all they want; water’s clean.’

‘…gotten us nowhere,’ Glirra was saying, raging against the ineffective actions of her compatriots over the last two years. ‘Now you have to take us seriously.’

‘You think I don’t take you seriously? I’m hurt, Glirra; I thought we had a connection.’ His gaze dragged from her to the rest of the muscle. As he watched, they stood guard over the hostages, watched the doorways, walked the high gantries above. Two stopped to talk, urgency in their eyes, but he couldn’t tell if they’d figured out what was going on. There was a lot to be urgent about.

‘Laugh all you like, Starfleet.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You said you wanted to see the hostages and know they’re alright. I think you’ve had enough of a look.’

‘You’re called the “True Way” but what about a third way?’ Rosewood’s eyes snapped back to them, urgency tightening his throat. ‘We can discuss options. Opportunities for Cardassians to settle on Nitrion -’

‘This isn’t a world to be shared!’ spat Glirra. ‘This was ours until the Capitulation of Bajor!’

‘You say “capitulation” like you didn’t get your asses handed to you in that war by both sides -’

His earpiece clicked again, but the voice this time was Lieutenant Falaris, far away in mission control on the Blackbird. ‘Sir, is this how you de-escalate?’

He fought to not trip over his words as the peanut gallery chimed in, and made a note to yell at Falaris for adding running commentary while he was working. ‘…as if the Union could keep, let alone take, the old DMZ.’

‘I’m not here to debate long-term strategy.’

‘No, you’re here to demonstrate you’re not helpless,’ Rosewood said, trying to calm himself down. He needed to build a better connection.

‘I’ve jammed their communications,’ Falaris continued. ‘They’re cut off. No contact from the teams at the outer facility; local security’s going to take them out. No reinforcements.’

‘Does this look helpless?’ Glirra was sneering.

He bit his lip. ‘I’m just saying,’ he tried again, slowing his breathing. ‘You’d be surprised how well things can turn around with the right help.’

Halfway through Glirra’s uninterested reply, the far wall exploded inward. In the flying debris and dust, the shouted confusion, Rosewood threw himself behind the nearest stack of metal crates, fumbling his pistol out of his holster. Before he’d even landed, he heard the phaser blasts from the new entry point, as the trio of Cassidy, Tiran, and Nallera burst in. And within seconds, Rosewood was rolling to one knee and snapping off a shot at a Cardassian on the gantry above who, far away enough from the breach, still had his wits about him enough to open fire.

He wasn’t here to build a better connection, he remembered. He was here to get inside and buy time. And now he was here to keep the enemy distracted.

‘Keep up the suppressive fire, Rook Five,’ came Cassidy’s voice over comms, low and urgent. ‘Three has the hostages.’

The problem was that the other three Rooks had rifles and Rosewood had a pistol and was more than a little exposed. He let off a few more wild shots, then the True Way were rounding on him and he had to bolt, dashing through live fire towards a nearby pillar of humming machinery. He hoped it wasn’t important. They’d gone to great lengths to keep the filtration plant functioning.

‘Hostages secure!’ Nallera yelled over comms. Risking a look around the pillar, Rosewood saw her stood over the quartet of human workers, a pair of fallen Cardassians beside her. Large rifle in her hands, she sprayed fire at the cluster of True Way on the far side of the chamber as the hostages fled for the exit she’d cleared.

Movement from the gantry caught Rosewood’s eye. ‘Shooter, north-west gantry!’ he snapped into comms, raising his pistol, but this was a long-range shot for such a weapon and his skills. He let off a shot, missed; let off another – and the Cardassian crumpled.

He had a moment to peer suspiciously at his own pistol before Tiran said over comms, cool and collected, ‘Tango down.’

That made more sense.

‘Starfleet!’ In the lull of the shooting, Glirra’s voice carried across the control chamber. Rosewood turned to see her stood near the main control panel for the whole plant. But his throat tightened when he saw she wasn’t alone, but held one of the hostages close to her as a physical shield. Somewhere down the line, they’d miscounted.

Nallera was by the door through which she’d ushered the other hostages, and Tiran near the entry breach, ready for precision shots. Cassidy stood at the other end of the control panel, rising with his rifle trained on Glirra.

‘How d’you think this ends?’ he asked, voice rumbling like distant thunder.

‘With your failure,’ Glira sneered. One hand pressing a pistol to the hostage’s head, her other reached to hammer on the plant’s controls. The system whirred and activated, and the computer’s voice hummed through the chamber.

‘Filtration protocol active.’

‘Enjoy a dead colony,’ she added.

‘Except that toxin’s been taken out,’ said Cassidy, jaw tight. ‘So all you did was make sure the good people of Nitrion IV enjoy extra-clear water tonight.’

Glirra froze. ‘You’re bluffing.’

Rosewood stepped out from behind the pillar, pistol lowered. ‘If he were, every second we stand here would be a second your toxin’s being pumped into the water. We’d want to stop you as quickly as possible. Minimise the damage.’

‘Even at the expense of one hostage, at this point.’ Cassidy nodded.

‘So… look how we’re just gonna stand here,’ Rosewood said, voice lightening casually. ‘Doing nothing.’

Seconds passed. Then more. Neither Rook moved, and Glirra’s eyes widened more and more.

The problem with negotiations like this, Rosewood mused, was convincing your enemy they had so little chance they had no choice but to stand down, but not so little chance that they panicked. He was accustomed to walking these lines, managing emotions, looking like someone they could do business with.

Hal Cassidy and his big fuck-off rifle pointed directly at her did not look like someone she could do business with.

‘Don’t,’ Rosewood said, empty hand raising as he saw Glirra’s eyes flicker to the hostage, but still the Cardassian shifted her grip on her gun.

Nallera shouted, Cassidy hefted his rifle, Rosewood lunged forward. Everything slowed, time and space condensing both, as if nothing had or could happen anywhere in the universe except for this moment of trying to close down on Glirra before she murdered a whimpering water plant supervisor in front of them. He’d had nightmares like this, Rosewood thought distantly. Dreams of running as if through treacle. And when he heard the distant whine of a phaser blast, he realised that was ridiculous. He’d needed to cover three metres quicker than she needed to pull a trigger.

Then Glirra froze. Teetered. And collapsed. The worker screamed and bolted, Nallera moving to intercept on comforting containment duty. As one, Cassidy and Rosewood turned to the open door behind the control panel at which stood the dishevelled, tired figure of Aryn.

He lowered his phaser. ‘I thought I should come up from the chemical injection centre and lend a hand,’ he said lightly, as if he hadn’t just casually outflanked the enemy and finished off the crisis.

Cassidy hefted his rifle, watching for a second. Then he laughed. ‘Good work, Rooks. Three, make sure all hostages are safe and accounted for. Everyone else – confirm these True Way goons are down.’

He turned away and keyed his comm, his voice coming over everyone’s earpiece. ‘Blackbird – Rook One. Location secure. Hostiles down. Hostages safe, confirming now that they’re sound. This DMZ dustbowl gets to thrive another day.’

‘Confirmed, Rook One,’ answered Falaris. ‘Local security are on their way up. Do you want to hand the situation over, or should I direct them to report in?’

‘Locals can tidy up their own goddamn mess. I’ve no time for celebrations and kissing babies; we’ll wrap up and return to you.’ Closing the comms, Cassidy looked to Rosewood, who was by now checking over Glirra. Aryn had, at least, set his phaser to stun. ‘Nice work keeping them occupied. Maybe get more stuck in when the shooting starts?’

‘I had a tiny phaser,’ Rosewood protested as he cuffed Glirra, ‘and basically no cover. I shot a couple of guys.’

‘You shot one guy.’

‘And, like I said, set it up so you could bust in through an entry point away from the hostages.’

‘After Aryn killed their bioweapon. And, really, the breach was Nallera.’

‘So when you say “nice work keeping them occupied…”’

Cassidy gave a low chuckle. ‘Just keeping you on your toes, Kid. Make sure security get this one.’

‘We don’t want to check her out ourselves?’ Rosewood asked. ‘She’s got to have useful intel.’

‘On local trouble,’ Cassidy scoffed. ‘Nah. Wrap up, and we’re out of here and onto what’s next. This is just the True Way. Bunch of idiot thugs. Alright for a day’s work, but for anything more than that? We deserve a better calibre of villain.’

Rosewood was judicious enough to hold his reply until Cassidy had headed off, and keep his voice to a low mumble. Cassidy could tempt fate. Rosewood knew better than to tempt Cassidy. ‘That,’ he muttered as he checked Glirra’s pockets, ‘sounds like the sort of smug comment we’re all gonna live long enough to regret.’