When they were summoned back to the ready room, Jim was only slightly surprised to hear that President Kiraly had approved his plan - not that it was a plan, yet; the plan would come later. But she'd approved the strategy, and Jim made a mental note to ask the older Spock for details sometime later.

"We will, of course, contact the Admiralty to request more ships," Kiraly said in conclusion.

"It'll be over before they get here," Jim muttered.

Di'On frowned at him. "You said that before, when mutineers took your ship."

Had he? Jim didn't remember, but "I was right then, too. The situation isn't all that different - mutineers took your throne, after all."

Sarek regarded him gravely. "While your analogy is apt, I fail to see how this situation can be solved with transporters and stealth."

From the corner of his eye, Jim saw the elder Spock's lips twitch ever so slightly, and that meant his own fight to contain a grin was lost. At least he kept it to a grin and not a full-blown laugh. "You will. Di- your Highness, will you confer with Mr. Spock? We'll need the best data possible concerning where Raimahan will be and what we'll face when we get there."

Di'On - crap, did he have to think of her as her Highness, too? It was hard enough remembering to address her that way - leveled a glare at him. Jim had to admit it was a good effort, but then he'd been on the receiving end of glares from Spock that would make this one wither in shame.

"That would be tantamount to giving you an open invitation to destroy Romulus at your leisure."

"And you can change a lot of it once we're done taking back your family's crown. Do Romulans even have crowns?" Jim shook his head, briefly, then sobered. "I get it - really. But if we're going to take out Raimahan, we need to do it fast and hard, and this is the best option I see. Do you have another one?"

Her mouth tightened. "No."

"Then tell us what we need to know," Jim said. "I promise no one who doesn't need to know for this mission will find out."

She nodded, once, though she was still clearly not happy with the solution.

There was one more question Jim needed answered. "Will Bloodwing's people follow you?"

"For vengeance, yes," Di'On said. "After that, I cannot say - but that is for me to deal with after we have dealt with Raimahan."

Jim nodded, then turned back to the three still sitting at the table. President Kiraly looked somewhat stunned, Sarek looked faintly baffled, and the older Spock's expression conveyed both amusement and respect. At least, it would have if it had been his t'hy'la wearing that expression, and Jim supposed the two Spocks had similar tells.

"Madam President, Ambassadors," he said. "I can't risk your lives on this. Will you and your parties remain on Babel?"

"Of course, Captain," the president responded.

Sarek inclined his head minutely. "It is the logical course of action."

"I'll make arrangements for your transport home," Jim told them. "Spock, let me know when you're done."

When he returned to the bridge, Jim waved a hand to indicate that the lieutenant - not Sulu or Uhura - currently in the center seat should remain there. Instead, his angled his steps toward the helm and tactical console, where Sulu and Chekov looked up at his approach.

"Need your help, gentlemen," Jim said, and they straightened in their chairs. "Review everything we've got on the Romulan homeworld - including how to sneak up on it."

"Captain?" Sulu sounded concerned. Chekov just looked excited.

"We have to get in fast," Jim added. "And may have to get out faster."

Then Sulu's expression registered, and Jim grinned. "Relax, Mr. Sulu - it's under orders. This time, anyway."

He clapped his helmsman's shoulder, then made his way to the communications station. "Lieutenant, I need a secure line to Admiral Pike."

"Yes, sir. Shall I patch it through to the ready room?"

Jim glanced at the door to the room in question, surprised when it whooshed open to allow the elder Spock to return to the bridge. He hadn't been paying attention when Sarek and President Kiraly left, and had thought the elder Spock left with them. Apparently not - and he returned his attention to Uhura's question.

"No - my quarters, please," he told Uhura. "And when you're done with that, scan all Romulan frequencies. There's been a coup, and we need to know everything that's going on."

To her credit, she didn't ask any of the questions Jim could see lingering behind her gaze, instead saying, "Aye, sir. I'll let you know when your call goes through."

"Thanks."

He straightened and turned for the turbolift. When he arrived at his quarters, the light on his comm unit was blinking softly, and Jim sat at his desk before activating it. Uhura's face appeared on the screen.

"That was fast," Jim said.

"It's only Earth, Captain." And no, not-quite condescending amusement was not restricted to Spock or to Vulcans. But, this being Uhura, she might have learned it from Spock. "Admiral Pike for you."

Jim barely had time to straighten in his seat before the image on the screen shifted, and Jim found himself facing the admiral.

"Sir," Jim said.

"No need for the formality," Pike replied. "What's up?"

"I need a favor," Jim told him.

Pike's gaze sharpened. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, you could say that." But Jim waved it away. "Not that important, we're handling it. But I need transport from Babel for not more than twenty people, eight of them injured."

"I suppose now is not the time to point out that there are regular commercial shuttles."

"I need something fast and quiet," Jim told him. "The more heavily armed, the better."

Pike's eyebrows shot up. "That's a hell of a favor."

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

On the screen, Pike gave a small sigh. "I have no idea what I'll tell the Admiralty."

Jim couldn't help grinning. "Tell them it's a special request for President Kiraly."

Pike snorted. "How did you pass the Academy spewing bullshit like that?"

Now Jim sobered. "They'll believe it," he told Pike. "At least Admiral Komack will, because she's aboard Enterprise now and will be on Babel by the time you get here."

He wanted to grin at Pike's dumbfounded expression, but the reality of the situation had suddenly landed on his shoulders.

"Where will you be?" Pike asked.

"I'll tell you when we get back."

He didn't say anything else, and finally Pike nodded once, a brief, sharp movement, before checking something offscreen. "The cutter Dundonald is in spacedock. I'll get her and be en route as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Admiral."

"Safe skies, Captain."

Di'On would never admit aloud how impressed she was at the efficiency and effectiveness of Jim's crew. Once the decision had been made, it was a matter of minutes, not even an hour, before they had beamed the diplomatic party and those of Bloodwing's crew too injured to take part in the reclamation down to Babel and were en route to Romulus.

She also would never admit how anxious she was at the hastily-conceived plan Jim had outlined. If it could, however charitably, even be called a plan, rather than a vague, half-formed notion of what might happen once they reached Romulan space.

But Jim's crew - even the half-Vulcan first officer - had implicit, unswerving faith in it or in Jim, and so Di'On kept her doubts to herself even as she made her way from the ready room to the observation lounge. She could exercise her diplomatic privilege to be on the bridge for the Enterprise's departure from Babel, but today, she felt the need to be alone with her grief, and the stars, so she made her way to the observation lounge that had become her favorite place on board the ship - and not just for the view of the starfield outside.

She watched the stars shift position as the Enterprise adjusted course, and then a moment later, they disappeared when Enterprise shot to a speed tens of times faster than the light from those stars traveled.

Here, alone in the black, Di'On could grieve her family, and her world as she had known it, for whatever happened next, however events played out, her world would never be the same again. Nor would she.

Some time later, the door whispered open. She knew who was there even before she heard his quiet voice.

"I grieve with thee. We all do."

Di'On nodded without turning, listened to the soft sounds of his footsteps as he came to stand behind her, close enough to comfort without intruding by touch.

"How can I help?" Jim asked after a moment.

Finally, Di'On turned to him. "You are helping, Jim - you and the Federation. You're helping me find justice for my uncle."

"Justice or revenge?" he asked with a hint of his usual cheer.

Di'On had to smile, and if it was grimmer than the ones she'd given him before now, she knew he'd understand. "Perhaps both, but more justice than revenge, I hope."

"I understand. And to that end, we have an idea we need your input on."

"What idea?"

"Better to show you than to explain it. Will you come?"

"Of course."

Ten minutes later, Di'On could only stare numbly at the viewscreen that had just gone dark.

"What is - how did you -?" Words failed her, and she could only gesture at the screen.

Jim had brought her back to his ready room, where both Spocks waited, joined by Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura.

"It's standard procedure in cases of heavy trauma," McCoy said. "Everything's recorded, to assure the patient and family that everything that could be done was done. Other reasons, too, but those aren't important right now."

"What's important," Jim said, "is that we have a weapon for a different kind of fight. We have a video of the emperor passing his ring to you."

Di'On looked from face to face. "I don't understand."

"Twentieth-century Terrans termed it psychological warfare," Ambassador Spock said. "Not all wars are won by force of arms."

"If we broadcast this video across Romulus, we can rally people to your side, and maybe prevent a civil war," Jim said.

"It feels … dishonorable," Di'On said finally. "Though I'm not certain why."

"More dishonorable than what they did to the emperor?" McCoy asked acerbically.

Di'On stiffened. "Certainly not!"

McCoy shrugged, as though to end the topic. Commander Spock leaned forward slightly, and she met his gaze.

"It is logical to save lives where possible," he said. "This may do so."

Di'On had to admit that he was right, and still something about the idea didn't sit well with her warrior's nature.

But she had larger concerns now, including her people… the people she would rule, if their plan worked. It would be as wrong as it was inauspicious to begin that rule with more bloodshed than was strictly necessary.

"Very well," she said. "What do I do?"

Jim glanced around the bridge as alpha shift ended, noting that Spock and Uhura were still sequestered in the ready room with the elder Spock and Di'On. He quelled the urge to check on them, handed off the conn to Commander Kushida, and started for the turbolift.

It wasn't likely that Di'On would join him tonight, not after the deaths of so many of her family, so Jim directed the turbolift to deck two.

How was it that after such a short time together - and could they even be considered together, at this point? - Jim felt incomplete without her?

The door to his quarters opened and shut for him. He stripped his gold overtunic over his head and flung it into the fabric 'fresher. His boots went neatly into their place in his closet, and then his socks followed his overtunic.

For long moments, Jim stood staring at the 'fresher, just feeling the ache of Di'On's absence. Then he shook his head, hoping to shake himself out of his uncharacteristic funk.

Get over it, Jim. There's only room for one lady in your life, and her name's Enterprise.

An hour later, Jim lounged on his sofa, a datapad on his lap, immersed in the never-ending stream of reports Starfleet required.

The stream might be never-ending, but at least it had lessened in recent weeks from the near-flood levels of the beginning of his captaincy. Jim reminded himself to thank Pike for that the next time they spoke.

Still, the chime at his door was a welcome distraction, and he didn't bother to identify his visitor before calling, "Come."

When he looked up, his pulse quickened when he saw Di'On. Apparently, she did want him tonight - and he'd let her down.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know what you wanted -"

But she was shaking her head. "No need to apologize, not after this day."

Jim set his datapad aside and rose to his feet. "I don't know what you want tonight. Whatever it is, I'm here."

She came to him, then, and let him hold her, and when she leaned up to kiss him, he met her halfway.

Later, when they lay quietly together, she said, "Do you believe - truly believe - we will succeed?"

Jim tugged her closer against his chest. "We only had a four point three percent chance of defeating Nero, and we pulled that off."

"Four point three?" Di'On sounded amused and curious all at once.

He chuckled even as he stroked her hair. "According to Spock, and I never argue numbers with him. You can, if you want, just let me know so I can bring popcorn."

"What does he calculate the odds are for our success?"

"I haven't asked," Jim said, and he wasn't forcing confidence when he added, "but this is the right thing to do. I know we'll succeed."