The Lliew Rift was like a knot between the stars. Centuries ago, enterprising Romulan scientists had pushed the boundaries in their development of the singularity core, the power source that let them leap between the stars at boundless speeds and fuelled their covert cloaking devices. Such progress inevitably came at a cost, and this stretch of space that had once been a backwards corner of the Empire had paid that price. Now, it was a region that was all but impassible, subspace distortions collapsing any warp bubble, and localised phenomena making impulse travel dangerous beyond all measure. For a Changeling seeking to bend space-time and open a wormhole into the past, it was perfect.

For a covert operations Starfleet unit trying to approach undetected, it was also perfect.

‘They’ve certainly been repairing Virida Station,’ said Falaris, sat at her station on the Blackbird’s bridge. ‘Getting a loud and clear power signature.’

‘Its systems had to have a base level of operating all these years,’ said Aryn. He stood with Rosewood and Nallera at rear of the bridge, in full gear, arms folded across his chest as his eyes darted from display to display, soaking in the unfolding details from a distance. ‘The local phenomena would have destroyed it if its basic shielding collapsed.’

Nallera gave a low scoff. ‘Can’t we just sabotage that, then? Let it get sucked into the rifts?’

‘It wouldn’t happen instantly.’

Ranicus stood over the shoulder of the pilot, and looked back at Cassidy, sat in the command chair. ‘We’re as close as I expect we can be without getting detected.’

‘Good.’ Cassidy nodded. ‘Falaris, what’s their status?’

‘My best guess,’ butted in Aryn, ‘is that they’ll need to integrate the Regulator with their deflector systems to connect it to the power supply and use it to manipulate a nearby rift.’

‘Deflector power has been slowly growing over our approach,’ Falaris confirmed. ‘If the lieutenant’s right, they might be gearing up for it. I’m also detecting at least three subspace distortions in reasonable proximity to the station that might be suitable for their purposes.’

‘Time-frame?’

She winced. ‘Really difficult to say with the amount of conjecture going on.’

Aryn moved to stand at her shoulder. After a moment’s reading, he clicked his tongue. ‘Less than an hour.’

‘Shit,’ said Rosewood succinctly.

‘We can’t wait around.’ Cassidy stood. ‘Can you beam us aboard?’

‘I can.’ Falaris sounded tense. ‘Picking up life-signs aboard the station – she’s definitely not alone – and I think internal security systems are active, too.’

‘Here.’ Aryn pointed over her shoulder at a spot on the screen. ‘This area is close to a secondary power relay, and further away from guards and defence systems.’

Nallera joined him. ‘There’s enough juice on that station that taking out just that relay won’t stop them.’

‘But they’ll have to make adjustments. It’ll slow them down.’

‘Then let’s go.’ Cassidy turned to Ranicus. ‘Ship is yours, Commander. Scan the exterior of the station, see if you can figure out places to hit them that might affect their power systems. We can’t take on a station in a straight fight, and the wrong blast in the wrong place might make all of this go really wrong, but… give me options.’

Ranicus gave a cool nod. ‘Understood, sir.’

The Rooks trooped out with what felt to Rosewood by now like practiced purpose. Weapons were grabbed from the lockers on the way down, and they entered the transporter room to find Q’ira, in her personal gear, already waiting for them.

‘It’s about damn time,’ she said, checking over her small holdout disruptor. ‘Are we doing this? Boarding the station? Going and getting that thing?’

‘We’ve got a plan,’ Cassidy said with a tight nod.

The corners of Aryn’s eyes creased. ‘You don’t have to join us -’

‘I want to see that thing turn to goo for good. I’m going. Screw the loopholes you used to justify me being there on Oltanis IV; I’ve got a right to be here -’

‘Then stop talking about it,’ said Cassidy, stomping past her, ‘and get your ass on the pad.’

Going into action with the Rooks was still new to Rosewood, but the sense in his gut as he stepped onto the transporter pad was even newer. He was growing accustomed to the nerves, the adrenaline, the anticipation. This time, there was an edge of nausea to the apprehension, a sickness that had taken root in him longer ago than he cared to remember.

Then the air shimmered with the eerie hum of the transporter, and they materialised in a narrow, dimly lit corridor of an undeniably Romulan-built station. It was like beaming aboard a museum exhibit, the halls and construction harkening back to before humans had even known the empire existed, and now reeked of stale air and forgotten industry. The quiet groan of the station’s structure, and the sound of the dissipating transporter beam, echoed in the background.

The Rooks moved without instruction, falling formation without Cassidy needing to utter a word, each of them limbs of one body by now. They crouched low, dark gear blending seamlessly with the rusted metal walls, and each step was deliberate, calculated. The nausea began to ebb, or at least control over it tightened; this, at least, was familiar ground.

In his ear, Falaris’s voice chirped to breach the silence. ‘Movement approaching. They’ve detected you.’

‘That was expected,’ Cassidy growled. Ahead, they could hear the hum of the relay at a power systems control hub, but with it came the sound of footfalls, and then the low buzz of station defences.

‘Incoming,’ whispered Nallera, and they pressed into the alcoves lining the walls.

From the chamber of the control hub again, shadows moved, silhouettes of armed humanoids. The dim light showed green-hued skin on muscular frames, and Rosewood’s jaw tightened. Syndicate guards. That had been the point of reassuming the identity of Aestri, after all: to harness the crime gang lieutenant’s resources, connections, and followers. They likely had no idea what they were following. But this was no time to talk them down.

Even if Rosewood had wanted to, Cassidy acted first, his phaser beam cutting through the air before the guards even spotted them. The first dropped without a sound, his body crumpling to the floor. Rosewood ducked out from the alcove and fired a single, precise shot that took out the second.

‘Clear,’ he said.

Cassidy nodded. ‘Move.’

‘That’s not all of them,’ warned Falaris over comms. ‘Difficult to be sure of numbers through all this interference, but there’s life-signs converging on your location.’

The small chamber itself was empty, an innocuous room where maintenance staff could once conduct repairs and calibrations on a simple secondary power relay. The relay itself hummed in the wall, a section of conduit shimmering bright, a control panel beside it. That was easy to access – worse news was the two additional corridors leading to this chamber.

Cassidy, Rosewood, and Aryn took up positions at each one, with Q’ira joining Aryn, as Nallera knelt beside the relay terminal, her fingers already moving with expert precision over the centuries-old control panels.

‘Give me thirty seconds,’ she said, voice calm but focused.

The sound of clanking metal grew louder. Rosewood peered into the dark, but he saw no sign of the reported approaching guards. Moments passed, with none of the others issuing warnings. This couldn’t last, surely?

‘Twenty seconds,’ muttered Nallera.

Then – movement. Not from people, but the ceiling of the corridor shifted before Rosewood’s eyes as automated turrets descended, their red targeting lasers sweeping across the hallway before focusing on the open doors to the chamber.

‘Those are still working!’ hissed Aryn, ducking behind cover to narrowly avoid a burst of plasma fire.

‘Take them out, and keep them off Three!’ Cassidy barked, stepping out to rake weapons fire into his corridor – and physically block the way between the shots and Nallera. The other three opened fire, and Rosewood had to grit his teeth, remind himself to be careful, deliberate. These were automated systems; suppressive fire didn’t work on them. He had to hit.

‘Five seconds!’ Nallera yelled, fingers flying over the controls even as sparks rained down around her from the turret fire.

‘Guards converging now on your location!’ yelped Falaris.

‘Confirmed movement!’ snapped Rosewood as he saw shadowed silhouettes thunder down the corridor ahead, the numbers unclear.

‘And here!’ called Aryn.

‘Done!’ Nallera slammed the panel shut and dived behind a wall for cover. ‘Relay’s down!’

Cassidy looked back at the Rooks, all of them moving for shelter, then at the corridors through which weapons fire poured. His expression was inscrutable, but as he met Rosewood’s eyes, Rosewood gave a small nod.

Now there was a flicker of a grimace as Cassidy pressed a finger to his earpiece. ‘Rook One to Blackbird. Bring us home.’

Q’ira’s head snapped around. ‘We’re leaving? This is just one relay! You said this was just to slow them down! That thing’s gonna be in Ops, surely – we gotta -’

But the transporter light engulfed them all before she could finish, whisking them back to the Blackbird, back to safety – and away from a job which, Rosewood had to admit, they had left unfinished.