"Captain," Owosekun said sharply. "I believe we're being hailed."
The spotlight shifted to her, and Keyla and everyone else on the darkened bridge suddenly gave her their undivided attention.
"Excuse me?" Lorca asked sharply. "Lieutenant, the Romulans haven't had contact with the Federation since the war. Are you sure that's them and not some random transmission punching through space?"
"It's them, Captain," Owosekyn turned in her chair to face him, one hand mashing her earpiece into her ear as if it might transmit something that would make the situation make more sense. "Repeated lingacode on an array of subspace frequencies."
"Fascinating," Saru said, awed. "Captain, this is a great opportunity."
Lorca ignored him. "Are they asking for our surrender?"
"Only to open channels," Owosekun replied.
"Perhaps they want to parlay," Saru suggested. "Captain, if I may, perhaps diplomacy if the better method right now."
Diplomacy? From Lorca? Keyla thought. You're barking up the way wrong tree with that one, Saru…
"On screen," Lorca ordered. The collective shock of the bridge was palpable.
"They're sending audio only, sir," Owosekun said, to everyone's disappointment. They all really wanted to see a Romulan.
"Whatever, Owosekun. Open the channel."
"Aye,"
A moment later, a strong female voice filtered through the bridge speakers. "Attention Federation vessel, this Admiral N'Vel of the Romulan Star Empire warship Starglider. You have committed an act of war against the Empire. Surrender your craft and prepare to be boarded."
"Direct, aren't they?" Lorca said jocularly. "Okay, on-channel." Then he stood an addressed himself seemingly to the bridge ceiling.
"Romulan vessel, this is Captain Gabriel Lorca of the Starship Discovery. You have taken unprovoked, hostile action against us in violation of treaty. Explain yourselves."
There was a moment of silence, and Keyla marveled for a moment at the unmitigated gall Lorca possessed.
"You came here to continue your attacks against the Empire. This time, however, we were waiting."
Lorca shrugged as if the Romulan commander could see it and said casually, "Hey, our navigation system crashed unexpectedly. If we drifted off course, we apologize. We're willing to remove ourselves from your space if you'll agree to cease your attack."
"Really, Captain, are you going to hide behind so feeble a lie? We threw the bait into the water, and here you are."
"Well, it was worth a try. Since we're both aware we're enemies, what are we talking for? You must know we won't give up our ship without a fight, and that fight you will lose."
"You don't lie very well, Captain. Your ship is crippled."
"We're not in top shape, but we still back a punch, as that sparking gash in your hull would indicate—yes I can see it from here."
Keyla stifled a laugh as her crush on Lorca just dialed up a few notches.
"Nothing we can't sustain. Romulan warships are built for intensive combat. A single, short-duration burst from weapons is hardly a death-blow, Captain."
"No, that would have taken a slightly longer burst from the looks of it," Lorca said.
"Whereas your ship is functionally crippled, and the weapon we used to do that is recharging, so I suggest you enjoy your sense of victory while you can."
"I have faith in my repair crews, Admiral. I guess we'll see who's faster. Now, since I'm not in the mind to surrender, is there anything further we need to talk about?"
"He's very confident," N'Vel said, doing her best to hide her frustration.
"I sense we are at an impasse," S'Tonn remarked. "It seems nether of us is particularly deceived by the other."
N'Vel shrugged. "It was a gamble." She addressed the gunner, "How long until the plasma cannon is repaired?"
"Unknown, Admiral," the man replied meekly. N'Vel sympathized. He couldn't do anything about repairs being affected thousands of kilometers away, but his neck was on the slab anyway.
"My gamble is looking less and less likely to pay off by the moment," N'Vel said bitterly. She looked around the bridge—gods, how tiny it was compared the monstrous machine listing off their stern. She felt run through by a sense of vulnerability more massive than anything she'd felt before, and she imagined the entirety of the empire being split open like a pierce of ripe fruit.
She could not let that happen.
"S'Tonn, is the life-support still active on the listening post?"
The older centurion looked at her, perplexed. "Of course, Admiral. Maintenance crews spend week-long shifts there when they are upgrading the systems. Why?
"We may still achieve our aims without destroying ourselves against the Federation," N'Vel replied. "I think it might be time to offer a parlay."
"What?"Lorca asked incredulously.
"As I said, Captain, the base we masked as a shipyard is actually a research outpost. I request a parlay at that location. I will send coordinates."
"You know, if you're trying to take me prisoner, you should put a little more effort into it."
"Not at all, Captain. I will beam down to the location. You may scan it and when you're satisfied that I'm alone you can join me."
"Uh-huh. What keeps me from beaming you straight into our brig and ending all this now?"
"If you do that, then my crew will detonate the nuclear-tipped torpedoes we have loaded in our tubes. I don't know the abilities of the ship of your, but I suspect it wouldn't fare the after effects particularly well."
Lorca gestured to Owosekun, who cut the line. "Lady plays hard ball," he said.
"Captain," Saru said urgently, "surely you're not considering her offer."
"I'd almost do it to see what happens," he said with a shrug, then keyed the intercom on his chair. "Engineering, how long until we have power?"
"Unknown, Captain. The energizer is still badly damaged. We're going to have to replace—"
Lorca cut the connection, disgustedly. "Well, it looks like good options are off the table, Mister Saru."
"But Captain…"
"We're dead in space," Lorca snapped. "And if this buys us the time to make repairs and get out of here, then we don't have much of a choice."
"Yes sir," Saru said, somewhat sheepishly.
"If power comes online while I'm down there," he pointed at the viewscreen, "shoot that ship out of the sky."
"Aye sir," Rhys said quietly.
"All right, open the channel, Owosekun."
"Channel open."
Lorca inhaled. "All right, Admiral. Transmit the coordinates. We'll await your arrival…"
"Only short-range ship-to-ship."
"I would caution you, Admiral," S'Tonn admonished. "No one has had contact with humans in generations. We do not know how they will interpret an attempt to communicate. They may well see it as a sign of weakness."
N'Vel shook her head. "I do not believe so. The historical records of commanders and diplomats who communicated with humans during the war all agreed that they were refreshingly free of such pretense. Most preferable to the Klingons. No need to parse every word for signs of dishonor or offense or the like. Comms, put out a hail on all ship-to-ship frequencies."
The young comms officer looked at her over his console with shell-shocked eyes, and N'Vel felt a pang of sympathy. The poor things had all heard of starship combat—had probably looked forward to it in their naval academy days when it all seemed so romantic and fraught with opportunities for heroism and glory—and now was face-to-face with the ugly reality of it. "Yes, Admiral," he said in a kind of bleat. She hoped his voice was stronger when he made contact. She turned to S'Tonn.
"I hope you're right about that ship."
"Negotiations will surely be brief if I am not."
"Admiral, the Federation ship is answering our hail!" the comms officer reported, sounding like he had just witnessed a miracle.
"Open a channel. Audio only," N'Vel ordered. She didn't want to tip her hand by showing the human her damaged bridge. Under her breath she muttered, "Let's see where this goes…"