Nank’s domain on Ilior was limited to his single island. While it boasted the grand halls and gardens and bars, and was more than enough for hosting his auction, it was merely one part of the wider network of interconnected islands that made up this archipelago resort. These other islands brimmed with bars and clubs, entertainment venues and sea-front comforts. Owned by other Ferengi, each was rich in its own style and aesthetic, with one overriding principle: more was more.

The Rooks had picked up the Kairos Regulator from a secure facility on Nank’s island outside of the main halls. Here, they’d been allowed to bring their weapons and armaments from the Diamond Dust, though had been under the close observation of the large and professionally equipped security team. Any hint of threat on Nank’s property would be dealt with efficiently. Once they left the island, potentially at risk of someone jumping them for their goods, they were on their own. They’d landed initially near Nank’s resort, but then the Dust had been relocated to the docking pads on outer islands, out of the way, giving them a long walk back.

The setting sun cast the streets and bridges of the wider resort in a soft light. It was the quietest point of the day, when the indulgences of the day’s activities were winding down, but before the decadent night-life could stir. Each island was like its own, distinct pocket of paradise, and as they crossed a bridge into the latest, they found bars and restaurants only just beginning to stir with the hint of the evening’s exuberance to come.

The Kairos Regulator felt heavier under Rosewood’s arm than he thought it was. He wasn’t sure why Cassidy had given him the capsule, but Tiran was already ahead, filtering in with what little crowd there was, and Nallera watching their back. Q’ira led the main group alongside Cassidy, winding through the streets like she’d walked them a thousand times, out of her ostentatious dress from the auction and in much more practical garb.

‘You know,’ Rosewood mused to Aryn, leaning in and dropping his voice, ‘when I first tried to get her on board with the mission – involve her, see if she had expertise to give – she brushed me off. But she really does know her stuff, huh?’

Aryn pursed his lips. ‘I think she obfuscates her own knowledge,’ he said in a careful, diplomatic tone. ‘But you and Cassidy had her written off the moment you met her. I thought you’d be more astute about someone playing dumb.’ It was hard to tell if that was analysis or insult.

As if knowing she was being talked about, Q’ira glanced back at them and gave a sunnier smile than Rosewood fancied he’d seen off her while she’d been sharing cultivated, careful looks back at Nank’s. It died almost at once as she saw something behind them, and her lips moved.

‘Incoming!’

That was Cassidy, who moved in a flash to tackle Q’ira out of the pedestrian street and into the shadows of the columns of the covered walkway by the bars. Even with the warning, the shout, the move, disruptor fire filled the air before Rosewood had the chance to react, bolts of red searing through the golden light of the setting sun.

A cobblestone in front of him exploded, and then Rosewood was diving, too, lunging behind cover. Aryn skidded behind a table beside him, he was distantly aware of Nallera hitting shelter, and only now could Rosewood stick his head out, take stock.

Shadows down the street behind them moved, brandishing weapons and advancing, and he caught a flash of cyan skin, heavy rifles, professional gear. He’d seen it before, that particular model of armour, those particular faces. They’d flanked Aestri in the auction. And they’d brought friends.

‘That was inevitable!’ Rosewood groaned, drawing his pistol and letting off a few blasts. If Q’ira hadn’t looked back, spotted them, given Cassidy a warning, they’d have been sniped. Sheer fortune had given them this window.

Cassidy had rushed back down the columns to them, and was already grabbing Aryn by the elbow. ‘Move!’ he barked, snapping off shots towards Aestri’s gang. ‘There’s more of them, and they’re flooding forward. Break for the bridge; we’ll funnel them.’

‘Covering you!’ Nallera yelled from across the road, leaning around with her rifle to let off a spray of fire.

Rosewood didn’t argue, breaking into a run as Cassidy’s plan took shape, the canister of the Regulator heavy under his arm. They were heading for one of the many bridges crisscrossing between the islands, a long expanse over crystal clear water decorated with columns and railings that could offer, perhaps, some cover. It could bottleneck the enemies, or it could expose the Rooks. But that was better than being surrounded and dying.

More disruptor fire exploded around them, shattering masonry, scoring against metal signs, searing through tables and chairs scattered before the bars. Distant shouts and screams from locals promised fear and chaos and, perhaps, the response of someone’s private security, but it was the quietest part of the day. Everyone else could hide. Nobody was coming to save them.

Cassidy reached the bridge first, skidding to take a knee by one of the marble columns at the entrance, his hand a blur as he snapped off shots with his phaser. ‘Chief, stay with me! Hold this end!’ He met Rosewood’s eye. ‘Don’t let them get the package.’

Tiran was halfway across the bridge already, knelt and ready and shooting back the way they’d come. She waved a hand to summon the others, offering cover. Rosewood ushered Q’ira forward and followed onto the bridge, moving from column to column. Across the bridge was another street, this one full of high-end boutiques also quieter at this time of day, but beyond that island was the docking district, and the Dust.

They took up position near Tiran, who nodded and pressed on to clear their exit as Rosewood, Aryn, and Q’ira turned back to cover the withdrawal of Cassidy and Nallera. Rosewood’s eyes fell on Q’ira, who’d drawn a tidy little hold-out disruptor that looked more fashion accessory than weapon, but she wielded it with more accuracy than he’d expected.

‘Company!’ Tiran called, and Rosewood’s heart sank as he looked to their escape route to see figures advancing on the street ahead. They were being outflanked.

‘Chief!’ Cassidy’s voice sounded like it came with an implicit instruction, and as Rosewood’s head snapped around, Nallera turned away from the attackers behind them, eyes scanning the streets and the open expanse between islands. Then her eyes landed on seemingly nothing, and she shot at something on the bridge itself.

A shower of sparks erupted from the power box as she hit it, then the overhead lights on the bridge went out. There were shouts of surprise and confusion from the Syndicate, then Cassidy yelled for the Rooks to advance, and they moved.

They were just shadows in gloom, now, the setting sun casting more silhouettes and shades than gold. Rosewood ran, letting Tiran and Aryn go a little ahead, guilt twisting his gut as he held the Regulator close, knowing he had to protect it, not his team. Shouts and thumps echoed from behind him, and when he saw Cassidy and Nallera follow, he had his arm slung under the Chief, helping her run. She clutched her side from a blast wound.

But the Syndicate behind them were hesitant to follow across the narrow bridge, and the ones ahead thinned in number as the Rooks blasted their way through. They were on the far side of the bridge before another shadow emerged on the street, and in the light of the shattered clothing boutiques, Rosewood saw the sharp features of Aestri, flanked by a single guard.

Before she could speak, his phaser snapped up and took the guard out in an instant. ‘Sorry, darling,’ Rosewood drawled. ‘No resales.’

Aestri looked at her fallen compatriot. Then at the Rooks, a battered cluster at the mouth of the bridge. The shooting had stopped, and yet she held her ground, her shadow monstrously long in the setting sun. Her team seemed beaten, driven off or defeated, and yet she was undaunted, looming taller and taller.

‘What the fuck –’

It was only when Q’ira hissed in wavering terror that Rosewood realised the warping shadow wasn’t a trick of the light or nerves. Aestri really was getting taller.

She was metres away, but when her right hand lashed out, it stretched – and stretched – and stretched. Impossibly long and impossibly fast, this arm, this appendage, this tentacle lashed out, crashing into the Rooks.

Rosewood felt the crack of the impact, the Regulator knocked from his arms as he was sent flying. He hit the cobblestones hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. Beside him, Tiran landed, rolled – then teetered off the edge of the pavement to fall the long way down into the water below.

His head hit the pavement and the world span. Screaming. Shooting. Thudding.

Move. Move!

Rolling onto his front, Rosewood looked up to see the Rooks in disarray in the face of a monster. The same long tentacle had wrapped around Nallera, lifting her bodily from the ground before smashing her into a wall. Cassidy was shooting, swearing, shouting, the shots thudding into the body of Aestri, but the Orion kept moving.

No. Not an Orion. Her body shimmered and shifted, growing to monstrous proportions, looming over them. The still form of Nallera was dropped, the swipe of another trunk-like arm took Cassidy out, and the air filled with the sound of Q’ira’s terrified screaming as Aestri rounded on them.

‘She’s a fucking Changeling!’ Or that was what Rosewood thought he’d said. In truth, he was probably screaming, too.

Q’ira, who’d touted her hold-out disruptor and held her cool in the rolling ruck, dived behind a column to clutch her head and bend double and cower. He couldn’t blame her as he tried to find his phaser, not because he was brave, but because he had no choice.

The Changeling that had been Aestri rounded on him, its body half Orion, half monster. The elongated limbs snaked out, wrapping around his ankles, dragging him forward. His hand snapped out for his fallen phaser, but fell short. Cassidy was unmoving, Nallera was unmoving, Tiran hadn’t clambered back up, and Aryn had likely shared her fate. It was just him, being dragged across the cobblestones towards this monster.

Now he was definitely screaming.

The mouth was more like a maw as the Changeling pinned him down, looming over him. It formed words, but the shapes held every promise of evisceration, destruction.

‘Where. Is. It?’

That was an excellent question, Rosewood thought. Then Aestri exploded.

Searing heat rushed over him, the earth-shattering boom, then a warm wetness. Then stillness, broken only by a sound like a brief shower of rain, as the droplets of what had, only a heartbeat earlier, been a Changeling fell upon the street. And before him, canister of the Kairos Regulator clutched under one arm, stood Aryn.

Rosewood gaped, fighting for breath, fighting for sense. ‘What – what did you do?

Aryn was a state, covered in the remains of the Changeling, his chest heaving. ‘I – ah – one of the Chief’s charges. Contained detonation. Forced inside Aestri’s cavity before exploding.’

‘You -’ Rosewood’s eyes snapped from him to the four metres away, where Nallera weakly clambered to her feet. Aryn had been nowhere in sight when the Changeling had grabbed his ankle, and programming a photon grenade like that would take precious seconds there was no way he’d had.

Nallera had made similar calculations, but was recovering her wits faster than Rosewood. Her eyes flickered from her equipment belt to the canister under Aryn’s arm, the Kairos Regulator, a device designed to bend local space-time to suit its user. ‘Holy shit. It works?’

Aryn gave a small, hysterical laugh, wiping Changeling remains off his face. ‘…it works.’

‘Sound off!’ That was Cassidy, groaning as he got to his feet. ‘Jessa?’

‘Here!’ grumbled Tiran, dragging herself over a railing and back onto the pavement, sopping wet.

‘Present,’ and ‘Intact,’ came the mumbling affirmations from Aryn and Nallera that they’d survived.

‘Where’s that damn girl?’ Cassidy growled, looking around until he saw Q’ira pop her head out from behind a column. His eyes glinted as he checked her over, and he gave a curt nod. ‘Good. All alive. We can negotiate the rest later…’ But his voice trailed off as he finally noted an absence, eyes landing on Rosewood, still sprawled on the road. ‘Kid. You with us?’

His heart hadn’t stopped thundering and adrenaline hadn’t stopped surging, the end of the fight not ending his body’s shift to survival mode. Eyes still locked on the space where Aestri had been, where the Changeling had been, Rosewood had to swallow a bitter taste in his mouth as he nodded.

‘Here,’ he croaked. Then, ‘I thought they were all gone.’