The Complication

by CharlieFenwick

Data struggles to reconcile the discrepancies between Tasha's verbal and nonverbal communication during and after the events of Ligon II. "Am I the 'complication?" Data asked. Data begins to develop emotions. Tasha/Data fluff & angst. Data/Geordi friendship. Covers the events of TNG season 1 with missing scenes, original adventures, and some mild AU retelling of events.

113. Just In Time

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your kind words of support!

This is our bang-bang shoot 'em up chapter. There's a lot of action happening in different spaces. Mostly it is all centred around the Iconian outpost, Lantera (with a few scenes on the Enterprise).

Thank you for sticking with me on this journey!

Trigger warning: Strong language, violence, injury, death, big honkin' space guns.

---

Reg Barclay flinched as a falling wire sparked and sizzled just over his shoulder.

He gripped the console in front of him to stay upright as another powerful blast wave rippled out from the bow of a Romulan D'deridex class cruiser.

A heavy structural beam collapsed right on top of Lieutenant Branson. He was crushed and killed in an instant.

Reg wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and walk himself through the breathing exercises he learned in therapy.

Only he couldn't.

He was like a machine, operating with one singular focus as he worked to keep the shields in place.

The bombardment had lasted so long and was so continuous that it had become almost like clockwork as the Romulan forces chipped away at the shield.

Were he not occupied, Reg might have considered that he was a knight holed up in an ancient castle under siege.

And under siege they were.

Thick, acrid smoke choked the breathable air and made it difficult to see. There was a heavy thud as someone stumbled over a hunk of fallen debris.

"Brace!" Data ordered.

Everyone clutched the nearest solid object as disruptor fire rocked the Bridge.

Crewman D'escor lost her grip and tumbled into the wall with a sickening thump. She groaned and clutched her arm as she tried to get up – only to be thrown across the floor once again.

Data dashed out. He quite literally leapt into position, using his body to stop her from rolling off the edge of the platform on the Bridge.

It was at least a twenty metre drop.

"Thanks," she said, still reeling from being tossed about.

"Are you able to resume your station?" Data inquired.

He didn't mean to be harsh, but every second counted.

"I'll do my best, sir," she answered.

Data hauled D'escor to her feet and she stumbled off to take up her post for the next barrage.

---

Will Riker dropped back behind the corner. He pressed his body against the wall, clutching his phaser rifle as a hail of disruptor fire whizzed past.

He was waiting for a gap in the fire.

Catching the eye of Ensign Jeffords, they shared a quick nod.

As soon as the opportunity presented itself, they returned fire.

It wasn't enough to stop the onslaught of the advancing Romulan troops. Somehow they had managed a nonstop replenishment of fresh troops.

Each time they felled a line of Romulans, there was a fresh group of replacements ready to take their place.

It was a fighting withdrawal, corridor to corridor, as Will Riker and his team tried to buy the engineering team enough time to complete their mission.

"We have to fall back!" Lieutenant Solis shouted.

The Romulans were closing in. They were dangerously close to being overrun.

"Belay that order! Hold your position," Riker ordered.

---

Data tapped his combadge.

"Flight team? Status?"

There was a brief shock of static. The shield strength interfered with radio chatter.

"A little busy at the moment," Tasha replied.

Tasha, Worf, and a small team were doing their best to hold their own in a series of small attack fighters they had discovered on Lantera.

With skills honed during the height of the Border Wars, Tasha and Worf made for a formidable team.

Still – they were just a handful of ships against three Romulan ships and a swarm of the more manoeuvrable Romulan Snakehead fighters.

But at the moment, they had bigger fish to fry. A Romulan Viper-class attack vessel was closing in on their position. It had a weapons lock on both fighters.

Worf and Tasha turned into a defensive split, forcing the Viper-class attack vessel to choose between them when something caught Tasha's eye.

From her vantage point, Tasha scowled as she glanced down at the Romulan ships that had them surrounded.

"Worf? Are you seeing this?" Tasha asked.

"Seeing. Still working on believing," Worf answered.

He couldn't tell what they were up to.

"I don't like it," Worf said.

"You and me both."

Tasha's tone was upbeat as her reply came across the comms channel. But Worf could sense the trepidation in her voice.

"Commander?"

Tasha's hail cut across the static.

"Commander, the Romulan cruisers appear to be moving into some sort of formation," Tasha reported. "I'm going to swing around and take a look."

Data tapped the button on the comms system.

"Negative. Fall back and protect the power cell," Data ordered.

He couldn't be sure his hail had gone out.

Over at one of the terminals, Reginald Barclay blanched.

"Sir, I'm detecting-"

He was cut off by an urgent hail from Geordi.

"Data, we're reading a massive power buildup from the Romulan ships. Tell me you have good news?" Geordi pressed.

Data looked over to Verax.

"That is really all in how you look at it," Verax answered.

Data quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"Well, one more hit and we're done for," Verax said.

Data frowned.

"How is that good news?" Data asked bluntly.

"One more hit and we're done. Believe me, there won't be anything left for them to recover," Verax said in typical Romulan fashion.

Lieutenant Barclay found the courage to interrupt.

"They're a-a-aiming at the power core," Reg announced.

Data couldn't actually see Geordi's reaction. Geordi was seventeen decks down below Data's position. Still, Data could just picture Geordi scratching the back of his neck.

He could hear the sense of defeat in his voice.

"The orbital satellite defensive drones are done for. We've got nothing left in the arsenal to run interference," Geordi warned.

No one had said it aloud, but they all knew the Romulans were preparing to concentrate their fire. The Romulans had been reluctant to cause too much damage during the siege.

They did not want to destroy Lantera. Their goal was to merely prevent the Enterprise team from accessing the weapon.

Outside, Data could hear the disruptor fire was growing closer. Romulan troops had already passed through two of the bulkheads.

There was only one left and a limited Security force standing between them and the Bridge. Data had ordered the majority of the defenders to protect Geordi and the engineering team down on the lower level.

"Flight? Can you intervene?" Data inquired.

Their response was choppy, cut up by the interference from the shield.

"Command this is…. flight…."

And then Data heard the words he needed to in order to understand their position.

"Flight one… depleted."

"Two empty."

Data quickly calculated how to solve this crisis in a day that had been one unexpected emergency after another.

They could not reroute power from any system. They were already running life support at dangerously low levels.

Simply put, there was no vein left to tap.

All of the portable Federation-designed power generators they had brought along were in use, depleted, or destroyed.

The communications system crackled as another message came through.

"Same material… they're the same material?"

"Say again?" Data requested.

He couldn't be certain, but it sounded like Tasha was asking a question.

"The ship… same constru-"

The channel popped.

"As the drones?" Tasha finished.

Her inquiry had been cut off.

Data didn't need more information – he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"We cannot beam through the shield," Data answered.

Though Data hadn't said yes, his answer was confirmation that her theory was correct.

"Copy," Tasha replied without hesitation.

It was all she could bring herself to say as she set a course to intercept the concentrated disruptor beam.

---

Twenty-four Hours Earlier

Tasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was starting to grow sleepy. It was getting hot inside the small junction where Tasha, Geordi, Verax, and two Security officers were crammed inside waiting for Geordi to bypass the Romulan security checkpoint.

It had taken longer than anticipated to reach Lantera. Now their mission was on hold again thanks to a rather tricky Romulan lock.

Tasha was doing her best to relax.

Someone had eaten garlic for lunch and the scent lingered on their breath.

Normally, Tasha was a fan of garlic.

But as of late, it made her stomach turn.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine being in a cool, dark room.

Suddenly, there was a click. Then the door hissed open.

Geordi breathed a sigh of relief.

"About time," he said.

"Well done, Mr La Forge," Verax said with a small nod.

"Back at ya," Geordi said as he clapped Verax on the shoulder.

Tasha hauled herself to her feet with great effort.

"Let's get a move on," she said.

Tasha tapped her communicator.

"Bridge? We're in," Tasha reported.

She nearly bumped into Geordi who had stopped in the corridor.

"Scratch that," Geordi said.

He groaned and scratched the back of his neck.

Up ahead lay a second security lock on the next door. They would need to go through the arduous process of bypassing it in order to gain entry to the Operations Centre.

"I really hope we don't have to do this for every door," Geordi said.

---

Back on the Bridge of the ship, the next team stood down.

Data was frustratingly aware of every passing second.

He couldn't shake the feeling that they were 'burning daylight' as Commander Riker would say.

"Anything on sensors?" Riker asked.

"No, sir. We are still clear," Data answered.

The ship had cloaked again immediately after beaming the team aboard. Data remained concerned that their tachyon signature would be just the trail of breadcrumbs necessary for a Romulan ship to detect.

They had a built-in grid network that could be remotely activated with the right command code.

Data and Geordi had been hoping to deactivate it before leaving, but it was far too much work for their limited timeframe.

"We've come this far," Beverly said, brightly.

She was doing her best to stay positive.

Beverly didn't want to jinx anything by pointing out nothing had happened thus far. Instead, she decided to focus on her feelings.

"I'm certainly more comfortable than I was this morning," she confessed.

"And that does not bother you?" Worf queried.

Beverly didn't follow.

"No," Beverly replied slowly.

Deanna could sense something was off. On the outside, Worf was the picture of stoic composure. But she could feel this was a façade.

"Worf?" Deanna prompted.

His posture stiffened.

"We cannot allow ourselves to become complacent," Worf replied in a gruff voice.

"I'm not saying we should slack off," Beverly clarified.

Deanna frowned.

"Worf? What happened?" Deanna pressed.

She knew that his Klingon parents had been killed in the attack on Khitomer at the hands of the Romulans. Worf had shared almost nothing about that time in his life.

Worf was sweating. His brow was coated in perspiration.

"I… witnessed a Romulan attack as a child," Worf began.

Worf chose his words carefully. He was one step away from spilling his feelings, trying so hard to hold himself together lest he shake apart.

Deanna could hear it in his voice.

Worf's fear was real. It was the trauma of experiencing such a devastating and violent event at young age.

"They descended upon us before we even realised they were in orbit," Worf continued.

He paused and shook his head.

"The casualties were extensive," Worf finished, stopping himself before emotion took over.

Deanna had been so concerned about Castillo's men that she had overlooked the one person she should have been worried about.

She gripped Worf's arm, offering a reassuring squeeze.

Deanna wanted to tell Worf that she was sorry for what had happened, but instinct told her such a sentiment would be unwelcome.

"We're prepared," she said instead.

A silent understanding passed between the two friends.

Worf didn't want sympathy. He wanted strength.

"Right," he agreed with a stiff nod.

Worf squared his shoulders and smirked.

He was with his friends, surrounded by the people he trusted the most. They had come prepared.

Most importantly, they were there to stop the Romulans from rolling over the rest of the galaxy.

"Today is a good day to die," Worf announced.

---

It was another hour before Geordi radioed the Bridge to report their success. The second device had gone a little faster and Geordi was confident he could now show others how to bypass the security measure.

"Alright, let's start sending over our people," Riker ordered.

It took four separate trips to beam over the necessary personnel and another three to send the materials.

A small team would remain aboard the stolen Romulan ship to monitor the area, run the transporter, and provide support if necessary.

"Deanna, I want you here to get a read on any approaching vessels – if you can," Riker instructed.

She nodded in understanding.

"Lieutenant Commander Logan, you have the Bridge," Riker said as he handed over command to one of the primary Night Watch Command officers.

"Aye, sir," Logan replied.

Riker didn't much care for Logan's attitude. He'd gotten into it with Geordi more than once and Logan had fairly strong (unpopular) opinions about Data.

But he was a capable Commander and had volunteered.

Riker needed the expertise of all the senior officers on the Iconian outpost.

"If you run into trouble, your primary mission is to warn the Enterprise," Riker reminded him.

"Understood," Logan replied without hesitation.

Data had already made clear it was unlikely the cloak would do much good in that instance. Their duty, first and foremost, was to transmit a warning to the Enterprise.

It would likely result in the destruction of the ship and the deaths of everyone on board.

The crew on the outpost wouldn't be far behind.

But it was vital that they get word to Captain Picard if their mission failed. Jean-Luc had already decided that if he did not have word of their success in the first forty-eight hours that he would presume the mission was a failure.

"Come on, Mr Barclay," Riker said as he slapped Reg on the back.

Reg was white as a sheet.

He had waited until the last possible moment in the hope that Riker would order him to remain behind with the other crew.

"W-w-would it be a good idea if I w-were to stay h-here?" Reg asked.

Now all that was left to transport over was Will Riker, Reg Barclay, and crates upon crates of supplies.

"I'll be right beside you. In any case – we need you down there," Riker said.

---

The minute they rematerialised, Reg cracked one eye open.

He felt along his body, checking to ensure all of his extremities had arrived in the right order.

"Piece of cake," Riker said with a wink.

Reg was too shook up to speak. He loathed the transporter.

They team had beamed inside a secondary space that Data theorised had once been a meeting room. Riker put his hands on his hips as he studied the domed ceiling.

"It's a little gaudy for my taste," he teased.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Geordi said as he waved Riker over to the doorframe.

Will and Beverly stepped over to the door together to marvel in awe at the Iconian Operations Centre. It was like a platform suspended in the middle of grand dome.

Ancient pillars lined the rotund structure. At the very top sat a shielded dome that looked out into space. It was at least three times the size of the window atop the Bridge of the Enterprise-D.

"You think the Captain will let us put one in?" Riker asked.

Beverly smiled.

"It would be something to work everyday under this," Beverly replied.

The facility was beautiful. And Riker was certain he could spend hours getting lost in it. But they had a mission to complete, and every moment counted.

"Let's fan out. Tasha, run a sweep. Mr O'Brien – I want a structural stability report in the next hour," Riker ordered.

He turned to Data and Geordi.

"You two get down that power and cell and see what you can make of it. Let's rendezvous in an hour," Riker said.

---

The team split up.

Mr Verax accompanied Chief O'Brien during his structural sweep of the area. As they had suspected, there were a number of pockets where life support was still functioning.

Miles estimated it would take at least an hour to get a functional secondary environmental system up and running that was independent of the Iconian power source.

The team had brought along portable generators and devices known as environmental go packs. Miles made a mental note of areas where he wanted additional work.

O'Brien tapped his combadge.

"Sir, we've got some areas where I'd like a team to come in and seal off. The hull's still intact, but it's a wonder how," Miles said.

"I'll send Deezen and Montague down straight away," Riker replied.

---

"The Iconian language shares a root structure with an ancient proto-Vulcanoid dialect," Data said.

"So, you can read this?" Geordi asked.

Data's brow furrowed.

"Not exactly," Data replied.

He had identified a number of similar features. Data had studied Iconian during his time at the Academy. He had a basic level of understanding – far beyond that of even Captain Picard.

But it would take time before he felt comfortable pressing buttons and activating consoles around the power cell.

"Data, I hate to rush you – but we don't exactly have a lot of time here," Geordi reminded him.

Data turned to Geordi and gave him a rather chastising look.

"Geordi, this language died out over ten thousand years ago. Very few contemporary sources survive," Data explained.

Pottery shards. Stone tablets. A handful of ruined pillars.

"Our only reliable sources of information on the Iconian language come from historical documents recorded centuries after their disappearance," Data went on.

He opened his mouth to continue, but Geordi put up a hand to stop him.

"I get the picture," Geordi assured him.

He pulled out his tricorder and began to scan the area. There were a number of power fluctuations in the consoles surrounding the power cell.

It would require further study before Geordi could determine if these were routine or abnormal.

Suddenly, something caught Geordi's attention.

He turned his VISOR to the power cell at the base of the central hub and frowned.

Data could sense Geordi was on edge.

"Geordi?" he prompted.

"Data, are you seeing this?" Geordi asked.

Data didn't follow.

Geordi handed Data his tricorder with instructions to focus on the composition of the power cell. He advised that he wasn't sure if the tricorder would pick it up.

"The shield is providing too much interference," Data said.

"That's probably a good thing," Geordi said.

He turned to Data.

"We need to speak to Commander Riker immediately," Geordi said.

---

Will Riker was still trying to get his bearings as the team set in the primary Operations Centre set to work.

All around him, engineers and science officers plugged in their diagnostic tools and set about scanning the strange Iconian consoles.

Candyland. Riker mused.

He could understand their enthusiasm.

Riker was a sucker for the old legends too. He'd studied the Iconian legends too and was fascinated by the Empire that had all but vanished – just like the doors they were rumoured to have built.

Now that he was standing in the midst of one their ancient lighthouse defence outposts, Riker was in awe.

It was nothing like what he had imagined – and far from disappointing.

"Helluva thing, isn't it?" Castillo asked.

"Let's just say I'm glad the Romulans never got this place up and running," Riker said before quickly adding, "And I sure hope we can before they realise we're here."

"About that," Castillo began.

He guided Riker over to one of the large central stations and explained that it controlled a powerful shield array.

"At least, as far as we gather," Castillo prefaced.

From their study of the Romulan investigation of Lantera, they believed this shield was powerful. They surmised it had been disabled at some point when the facility was abandoned.

The Romulans suspected the Iconians only used it in the event of attack. Given the energy required, they believed it was a drain on the power cell and could not be sustained indefinitely.

"Why wouldn't the Romulans leave it up?" Riker asked.

If they were so worried about intruders, it seemed the obvious measure.

"It interfered with their transporters and communications," Castillo explained.

Riker nodded in understanding.

"Powerful indeed," he agreed.

Lieutenant Barclay was working on that console at the moment. He glanced up from his tricorder at Commander Riker.

"Do you want me to activate it, sir? It seems simple enough to turn on," Barclay inquired.

"Let's hold off unless we absolutely need it. Don't want to interfere with comms," Riker replied.

Barclay nodded hastily and turned back to his work.

The door to the centre slid open. Data swept inside with Geordi in two.

"That was fast," Riker remarked, surprised to see them back so soon.

Data and Geordi liked to geek out. Danger aside, this mission was no exception. The mixture of thrill and concern on their faces (combined with the fact they had managed to extract themselves from the power cell) spelled disaster.

"What's wrong?" Riker asked.

"Nothing is wrong, sir," Data said.

Riker lifted his eyebrows.

"But?" Riker prompted.

Geordi stepped forward to reassure him.

"Like Data said, there's no problem," Geordi began to say. "At least, there isn't a problem at the time and-"

"There is nothing to indicate it will become an issue," Data chimed in.

"If we maintain our current power levels," Geordi said.

"And avoid introducing anything that might destabilise or trigger what we call 'runaway' nuclear fusion," Data continued.

Riker took a breath as he watched the pair. They were doing that thing where they finished each other's sentences which meant the situation was either surprisingly beneficial or they were teetering on the brink of disaster.

"A marvel of engineering," Geordi said, nodding with approval.

"Hmm, indeed," Data concurred. "And if we account for the-"

Castillo leaned in close to Riker.

"Do they do this often?" he whispered.

"Gentlemen," Riker's voice boomed, catching their attention.

Geordi and Data fell silent.

"What did you find?" Riker asked.

A look passed between Data and Geordi.

"Sir, the power cell. It's…"

Geordi trailed off and shrugged, struggling to find the words.

"We have a pretty good idea why the Romulans had such trouble with power regulation," Geordi concluded.

"It is a highly dense, spherical power cell composed primarily of hydrogen that utilises nuclear fusion to-"

Riker blinked slowly.

"Are you saying it's solar powered?" Riker asked.

They were a considerable distance from the nearest star.

Data turned to Geordi and frowned.

"In a manner of speaking… yes," Data said.

"It's not so much that the power cell is solar powered, but more so that the power cell is… well it's basically a sun," Geordi finished awkwardly.

He held his hands up.

"A tiny one," Geordi added.

Data's brow furrowed as he studied Geordi's pinched fingers.

"Geordi, it was at least three metres wide," Data said, contradicting Geordi's visual representation of 'tiny.'

Geordi grumbled.

"I didn't mean it was only this big!" he said, shaking his hand.

Riker was still trying to wrap his head around this.

"Explains how it's been running for ten thousand years without maintenance," Castillo remarked.

Sonya Gomez, who was working nearby, perked up. She wordlessly caught Geordi's attention. As the resident antimatter (and all around space anomaly) expert, Sonya was intrigued.

"I want to check it out," she exclaimed.

---

The lights flickered.

Tasha crept along a dimly lit corridor. She was accompanied by Worf and a small security team. Ghost was with them too.

He was familiar with Romulan security devices and had studied the Iconian outpost.

It was a far cry from all the information they'd recorded on the isolinear chips. Nevertheless, the team was grateful for the expertise of his memory.

"I believe there is a hangar bay ahead to the left. It might be down another level," Ghost said.

The ancient outpost seemed to creak and groan with each step.

Tasha had the sinking feeling she was on a recovery mission aboard a derelict ship.

Their tricorders were barely functioning.

They were down in some of the lowest levels of the structure. Though the environmental systems were functioning in this pocket, the atmosphere was thin.

Tasha's fist shot up, silently communicating the team should halt.

Worf strained his ears.

Ahead, he could hear a banging noise.

Thump.

Thump.

He gripped his phaser rifle tight.

Using hand signals, Tasha ordered Lieutenant Jae and Ghost to dip into an adjacent alcove. They would be on hand to surprise anyone or anything that came out of the room ahead.

Worf and Tasha silently slipped onto opposite sides of the door.

They shared a quick nod before Tasha activated the panel.

As soon as it slid open, Worf and Tasha were ready with their phaser rifles aimed.

Worf swept inside while Tasha cleared the door.

It appeared to be nothing more than a storage room. A cabinet door was clunking against its frame.

They both breathed a sigh of relief.

Worf turned to study the wall. He ran his torch along the edge, looking for anything that might cause movement.

Tasha felt the air around the door to see if it was a faulty environmental vent.

"I believe we should leave the area," Worf advised. "This section is right along the hull. I suspect there is a microfracture. That would account for this and the decreased atmosphere."

"Right. Let's head back and we'll seal it off," Tasha said.

"False alarm," Worf announced as he returned to the corridor.

Jea flashed him a smirk.

Without warning, there was a sickening crack.

"The hull," Ghost said.

Tasha slammed her fist down on the control to seal the door. It was only a temporary measure.

"Move," she barked.

There was no time to get back to the previous area with an environmental seal. The corridor was too long, and the micro fissure could rupture into a larger breach at any second.

They would all be blown out into space.

"The hangar," Ghost said, pushing them along.

He recalled that it featured one of the areas where the environmental controls were still in place. And as a hangar bay, it would have to be environmentally sealed.

They barely made it in the door before a sickening lurch rocked that wing. A moment later, a deafening boom echoed.

Tasha did a quick head count. All six of them had made it.

"That was close," Lieutenant Jae remarked.

---

"Commander Riker?"

It was Logan.

"We're detecting a sharp drop in atmosphere on the lower level. We can visibly see debris that's blown out of, well, it looks like a new rupture has opened up," Logan reported.

Riker turned to Ensign Luis Cevallos.

"Take a team down and seal off that section," Riker ordered.

Riker's posture stiffened as he tapped his communicator. There was already a team down in that area.

"Lieutenant Yar?" he asked, praying there would be a response.

It only took a few seconds for Tasha to reply – but they were some of the longest seconds of Will's life.

"We're here, sir," Tasha answered. "But that corridor was our only way back."

They were now cut off from the central hub of the outpost.

Riker ordered Mr Logan to beam them back to the stolen ship – only Logan couldn't get a lock. In sealing the hangar, the team had activated a powerful shield.

"It's interfering with the transporters. Romulans had the same problem," Ghost advised. "And I suspect if we drop that shield, this section will be exposed to space too."

Riker grimaced.

"I've sent a team to seal the area to contain the leak. We may be able to fix the damage and repressurise that section," Riker said.

"We'll sit tight, sir," Tasha responded.

---

Tasha gazed around the hangar. Small, ancient ships sat in two lines on either side. They were little bigger than moderately sized shuttles.

But they looked more like small, manoeuvrable attack ships.

"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to explore this hangar," Tasha said.

Tasha could see Will Riker, but she knew he was grinning from the tone of his voice.

"Find something you like, Lieutenant?" he teased.

"Might have found a backup way out of here if things go south," Tasha replied.

Worf and Tasha shared a knowing smile.

The thrill of flying an ancient Iconian attack fighter was definitely enough to get their blood pumping. Approximately twenty-fix metres in the length, they boasted impressive dual cannons.

They both knew legends of the unstoppable Iconian firepower.

Just as they were making plans to claim one of their own, Data's voice cut across the channel.

"There is no way to know if those vessels are stable. And you do not have the proper equipment to make a structural determination," Data warned.

Tasha's shoulders slumped.

"I know, I know. Not like we're going to be flying them out of here anytime soon," she said.

She paused, knowing her statement had done little to ease Data's concern.

"I'm just… looking," Tasha said.

---

Deanna clutched her arms across her body and took a slow breath. She was standing near the front of the shuttle, staring down at the outpost.

"They are worried," Vil Arandev said as he approached her.

He stopped in front of the viewscreen next to Deanna.

"You are too," he observed.

Deanna flashed him a warm smile. There were other Betazoids on the Enterprise. But they didn't all share the same level of perception as Deanna.

She could sense Vil Arandev did – and it was refreshing to not feel so alone.

For a time, they simply stood together in silence while watching the outpost below. They could both pick up on the feelings of the team down there.

It was a lonely place that had been abandoned long ago – neither exactly spooky nor sad.

The last testament to a once great empire.

In a way, Deanna could see a connection between this outpost and the survivors themselves. Both were the forgotten remnants of a bygone era.

The final shred of evidence to lay to rest rumour and myth.

"You carry a great deal of trauma," Deanna said.

It weighed on Arandev. And now it weighed on Deanna too.

"And you have carried it for a long time," Deanna went on.

It was all there – the grief and pain, anger, disgust, loneliness. To the rest of the team, Arandev was jovial and polite. He had long been the voice of reason and compassion.

But Deanna could feel the collective trauma of their experience. It lingered around Arandev like a shroud, suffocating the very air Deanna breathed.

She gripped his arm.

"I could help you," Deanna offered. "I could… I could take some it."

It was a rarely used Betazoid ability. Deanna could use her empathic powers to block Arandev's trauma by absorbing it herself.

She couldn't offer him proper counselling services. The survivors had been trying to process it on their own for so long that it consumed them.

"Once we get back, you'll obviously have all the best care," she said. "But until then, just for the next short while – let me help?"

The offer was tempting.

Very tempting.

Arandev desperately wanted to unburden himself, to feel just a fleeting moment of peace.

He knew he couldn't – but the thought itself brought a smile to his face.

Deanna was taken aback by his polite refusal. She frowned, eyeing him with suspicion.

"You want to," she said, reading his emotional response.

Ever since their first encounter, Deanna had suspected there was far more to the story than the survivors had let on.

Deanna couldn't know for sure if this was because they were concerned about sharing their experience or if they were hiding a dark secret.

It certainly felt like they were harbouring a dark secret.

Vil Arandev couldn't risk upsetting the timeline.

"Whatever you've had to endure, I can take it," Deanna assured him.

"You are a remarkable officer, Ms Troi. And it has been a sincere pleasure to get to know you," Arandev replied.

"I can take it," Deanna repeated emphatically.

Arandev flashed her a small, sad smile.

"Not this," Vil said, squeezing her hand.

Deanna opened her mouth to speak – but she said nothing. She grimaced, suddenly hit by a cold feeling of dread.

Vil could sense it too.

A dark look passed between the two.

"Sir, I'm detecting an energy buildup," Ensign Veroni announced.

She was monitoring the sensors. Logan clicked on the communications array to notify Commander Riker. They had all been warned about the Romulan's struggles to regulate the power cell.

"It is not coming from the outpost," Veroni said, stopping Logan before he could speak.

She frowned.

"It's consistent with a ship dropping out of warp," Veroni warned.

Logan didn't hesitate.

"Cloak," Logan ordered.

He clicked on the communications channel.

"Away team, we've got a bogey inbound," Logan reported.

He turned back to the crew on the Bridge of the stolen ship.

"Lieutenant. Take us out but still within transporter range. Let's see if we can hide," Logan ordered.

Lieutenant Fillmore was seated at the helm. He fired up the impulse engines and laid in a course that would take them to the edge of transporter range.

Everyone held their breath, hoping the inbound ship was simply a routine patrol.

Ahead, a massive warship dropped out of warp.

Logan rose from his seat in awe. It was the largest ship he'd ever laid eyes on – even bigger than the Galaxy-class Enterprise.

With its dark black and green coating, the D'deridex class cruiser was an ominous site. This was a ship built for war, designed to frighten all who were unfortunate enough to lay eyes on it.

Deanna instinctively backed away from the viewscreen.

It was just like Worf had said – they came from nowhere.

"It's too late, sir. They've locked on to our signal," Veroni reported.

"Shields up! Red alert!" Logan ordered.

The communications array pinged.

"Bridge? What's going on up there?" Riker asked.

"Things are about to get ugly, sir," Logan replied.

He abandoned the big chair to take up a position at Operations. They were working with a skeleton crew and Logan needed everyone at a station.

"Go, get on the secondary Tactical computer," Logan ordered, motioning for Ensign Veroni to head there.

Vil Arandev clutched his chest. He knew the Romulans would offer no terms. There would be no hail nor even a final message.

He not only recognised this from his experience - he could feel what they were thinking on their Bridge.

The automated transporters were offline. Data and Geordi had not managed to fix that before departure.

The only way off the ship was for someone to operate it manually.

"Excuse me," Arandev said as he pushed Lieutenant Commander Logan out of the way.

"What are you doing?" Logan demanded.

---

"They're powering weapons, sir. Forward disruptors," Lieutenant Wu said.

A horrifying silence descended upon the outpost as the engineers and science officers set aside their diagnostic tools and sonic drivers to turn their attention to the vast windows that overlooked the scene.

The shadow of the Romulan ship was so close and vast that it darkened the room.

"Data? Is there anything we can do to help them? Weapons? Comms? Is anything online yet?" Riker asked the group.

Everyone scrambled.

They weren't even close to having functional communications – let alone weapons. They were still trying to get their own independent power up and running.

---

Vil Arandev ignored the protest of Lieutenant Commander Logan.

He punched the transporter and lifted his gaze just in time to see a brilliant green flash spark. It was the prelude to disruptor fire.

Time seemed to stand still.

A familiar shimmering sound filled the air as the team dematerialised.

Closing his eyes, he braced himself for a long overdue peace.

---

The outpost was a flurry of activity. The team worked quickly under the shadow of death as they tried to get any of the systems operational.

"I need a coupler!" Lieutenant Mitchell shouted.

"Three minutes to secondary sensors online," Crewman D'escor said as she furiously worked to bypass a portion of the conduit that had decayed.

"Sir!" Barclay said, trying to get Riker's attention.

Too many people were shouting at once.

"Sir!" Barclay hollered.

Riker whipped around.

"Sir, the shield!" Barclay said, reminding him of the one option they did have.

"Too late," Geordi said darkly.

His VISOR allowed him to see the deadly buildup in the forward disruptor array before it fired.

A long, lone beam shot out the front of the ship. It cut straight through the centre of the stolen ship, a mere speck compared to the battlecruiser.

Everyone dropped what they were doing to watch as it broke apart.

They were so stunned that even the appearance of their comrades as they rematerialised barely registered.

Riker locked eyes with Mr Logan. Logan just shook his head.

He caught sight of Deanna and frowned.

She smiled and thumbed away a tear.

"Imzadi," Will breathed, barely able to process his relief.

Her reaction seemed strange. She clutched her chest, taking a moment to steady herself. Deanna was horrified and she could feel the collective fear that hung in the air.

But the last thing she had sensed before she was beamed away had been peace.

A warm, tranquil feeling of release not unlike climbing into a hot bath or snuggling down for a nap under a cosy flannel blanket.

Riker could tell something was off.

"Later," Deanna said, catching sight of his worried brow.

Castillo was the first to notice Arandev's absence. Deanna didn't need to say it – Castillo knew what that meant.

His heart ached for his colleague, cut down on the verge of freedom. Arandev had come so far only to join the ranks of their fallen brethren.

For two decades, Vil Arandev had been one of Castillo's finest officers. A geologist by trade, Arandev had risen to the challenge of surviving under captivity.

The soft-spoken Betazed had also been one of the first people to show any kindness to Tasha during those early days. He never joined the others in mocking her or tormenting her.

Arandev had been Castillo's rock, his voice of conscience and the moral compass when the team needed it.

And that role had taken its toll.

It was Richard's sincere hope that Vil had found peace in the moments before his death – the very peace that evaded him for so long.

"Sir, we've got about two seconds before that beam tears through this room," Geordi warned, raising his voice.

He'd been trying to get Riker's attention for the last several seconds.

"Mr Barclay!" Riker shouted, pointing at Reg.

Starting at the base of the outpost, an eerie amber glow began to envelope the structure.

---

Sela's eyes narrowed as she studied the growing energy field. It had been easy enough to take out the ship.

It would be several more seconds before her disruptors were ready to fire again. She had ordered her Tactical officer to lower the beam.

"We just want to shake them around a bit," Sela said.

She was planning to capture these traitors – not kill them.

Yet.

Before they had arrived, Sela had ordered several teams to prepare. They would infiltrate the facility and take out any resistance.

Sela would lead the team with Korenus at her side.

Movar was relieved he'd been left in charge of the ship.

"They're activating the shield!" the helm reported.

If they didn't get in before it was active, they would have no hope of penetrating it.

"Beam us in there before it's too late!" Sela barked.

---

"Whoa," Geordi jumped back as the disruptor fired.

It hit the shield and was easily deflected – shaking the outpost in the process.

"How many hits can this thing take?" Riker asked, turning to Data.

Data wasn't entirely sure.

"I do not know, sir," Data answered honestly.

They needed to get the Tactical system online first and it would take Data some time to decipher just what he was looking at.

"That's your priority right now," Riker ordered.

A second, powerful blast hit the station.

"They're not going to stop," Deanna warned, sensing the determination of the Romulan crew.

"Yeah, I figured as much," Riker replied with a low grumble of dismay.

---

The team down in the hangar couldn't see the Romulan ship, but they had felt the shake. Unprepared for any sort of hit, it had sent them all to the floor.

"That's disruptor fire," Ghost said, listening to the second blast.

"What's going on up there?" Tasha asked, tapping her communicator.

Another blast resounded. It shook the hangar, sending Worf stumbling into the wall.

The ancient outpost creaked and groaned. Dust scattered. Everyone held their breath as they waited for the outpost to stabilise, praying it could withstand the bombardment.

---

Chief O'Brien and Verax weren't very far into their survey when the outpost came under fire.

Verax immediately identified the blast originated from a disruptor.

"Has to be one of the newer cruisers," he said.

Miles just sighed, using the wall to stay upright before he resumed noting the structural integrity of the corridor.

"You are not bothered?" Verax questioned.

"Whether I scream or not isn't gonna make them stop," Miles replied nonchalantly.

The Chief opened a panel and made a quick assessment of the power conduit.

"I saw enough during my time in the Border War to know this is no time to go to pieces," Miles went on.

Verax chuckled.

"Agreed," Verax replied.

Miles O'Brien was certainly not what he expected from the mild mannered Transporter and Maintenance Chief.

"I would presume the shield is in place as we are still standing here," Verax said.

"Aye," Miles nodded in agreement.

He paused and looked up from his tablet.

"How uh… how long is it good for? I mean, how many of these hits are we going to be able to take?" Miles asked.

They were taking quite a pounding. Yet, Miles's tone was no different than if he were asking Data when the next shipment of replacement warp coils was due to arrive.

"I am uncertain. Based on the findings of the Romulan team that was here before, I would say it is a powerful device," Verax shared.

"She's not in bad shape for being ten thousand years old," Miles said.

He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the corridor.

"We do not actually know the age of this facility – only that the Iconians vanished ten thousand years ago. It is possible this is much older," Verax said.

"Well, a lady never reveals her age," Miles said with a wink.

The joke was completely lost on Verax.

"We should get back up to the hub and check in. Let's hope she's a sturdy old gal," Miles said as he slapped Verax on the back.

Verax blinked and shook his head.

"Is a human or Federation custom to assign gender to ships and facilities?" Verax inquired.

---

Riker put up his arm and hollered to catch the attention of everyone.

The flurry of activity stopped, and the room fell silent.

Another blast rocked the outpost before Riker could speak.

He chose to ignore it.

"Now our escape is gone. Any chance of communicating to Captain Picard has been cut off," Riker said.

The disruptor fired again. Everyone clutched onto the nearest object to try and stay upright. Toolboxes and tricorders slid across the floor.

Pieces of one of the ancient pillars crumbled and scattered into dust down the dark abyss that sat below the platform housing the central Operations hub.

"We came here for one reason."

Riker paused to scan the concerned faces of his team.

"I've never been good at these sort of motivational speeches – but I don't have to remind you what's coming if we don't complete our mission," Riker said. "For our homes. Our families."

It was the reason each and every one of them had volunteered.

Richard was hit with an uncomfortable sense of nostalgia. He'd hadn't been all that much older than Commander Riker – and never anything more than a scrappy helmsman – when he'd been in the same position.

Alone.

Uneasy.

Facing down insurmountable odds and certain death with a team looking to him for guidance.

"There is no backup," Riker said.

It had grown eerily quiet.

"No Starfleet. No help. There is no cavalry coming," Riker went on.

Miles had just reached the hub. He stopped in the doorframe to listen, not wanting to disturb Riker's orders.

---

Down in the hangar, the team sat in silence as they listened.

Worf kept his gaze fixated on his phaser rifle. Tasha was chewing on the inside of her lip.

She knew Data was up there somewhere and wanted to believe he would find a way to figure out the weapon.

She had to believe this hadn't all been for nothing.

"We stand alone," Riker said, his voice ringing out from their combadges.

It was a sobering thought.

"We need to activate that weapon. And we need time," Riker said.

---

The next blast was powerful enough that the aftershock lasted for several seconds. Will could see the team was terrified.

He was scared out of his mind.

Will Riker didn't fear death - but he was afraid of letting his team down.

"And so-"

Riker trailed off, his confidence fading in light of the concerned faces staring at him waiting for instruction.

Will locked eyes with the one man in the room that had stood in his shoes, the man that had been just as uncertain twenty years earlier.

It was almost poetic how closely this mission resembled the very event that had triggered all of this twenty years earlier.

Castillo could see Riker's motivation was fading. Words failed him and the team needed something concrete to unite around.

Deanna wordlessly urged Will to get on with it. He couldn't stop now – they were losing the team.

"Shield integrity. Life support. Defensive weapons," Castillo ordered. "They know we're here and it is only a matter of time before there are reinforcements."

Over the last twenty years, Richard had become accustomed to giving orders under the threat of certain death. He fell back on the same words he'd twenty years earlier.

"We're fighting to buy time for Mr Data and Mr La Forge to get that weapon online," Castillo said.

Deanna could see why Mr Castillo had become the natural leader of the group. He exuded confidence, not ego. He was honest with his people about their position and his expectations.

And he did so in a way that was free of the flowery platitudes or tired adages Captains recited on the Bridges of their ships before battle.

Richard Castillo wasn't trying to get into the history books or set the scene for a good chapter in his memoir.

"Everything we do is about surviving to the next hour," Richard announced.

---

Worf's face soured.

Of all the times to be stuck.

Tasha could sense he was upset.

"I do not like waiting to die," Worf grumbled.

"I share the sentiment, but I don't know what we can do from here," Lieutenant Jae said.

Tasha stood up and started to pace. She was itching to do something productive.

They were stranded in the hangar, cut off from the rest of the team and from any of the primary facilities that housed systems to defend the outpost.

"We did tell Data we were going to look around," Tasha said, eying one of the ancient attack fighters.

---

Sela checked the settings of her disruptor again before returning it to its holster. Then she reached for the knife on her thigh, smacking away Korenus's hand as he offered to 'help.'

Sela shot him a glare and he backed down.

"Commander," he said with a small bow.

A Romulan Subcommander pushed his way past a crowd of waiting Uhlans.

"We've lost communication with the ship," he reported. "Best as we can tell, our teams have been scattered. Beamed all over the outpost."

Sela let out an exasperated sigh.

That certainly explained why she had wound up in one of the barracks on the upper decks along with only part of her team.

They had found a handful of troops scattered about in the corridor and adjacent rooms.

It was less than a third of what Sela had hoped for.

She could tell the Sub Commander was still standing next to her as if he had more to say.

"And?" Sela prompted.

"And we suspect the shield is interfering with our own communications system here," he advised.

The Romulans had left behind an intact communications array. It was independent of the Iconian system and did not rely on a ship.

Thus far, the channel had cut in and out. They were trying to make contact with their comrades – but it was hard to maintain clear communication.

"Any other startling insights?" Sela asked, annoyed.

The Sub Commander shook his head. Bowing low, he backed away.

"We do have the element of surprise on our side," Korenus pointed out.

"Listen up," Sela said.

Everyone fell silent and jumped to attention. Sela explained the importance of their mission. Because of these early setbacks, it was vital they go about in a strategic manner.

"I want Coyote and the rest of the Rodhas Rebels brought to me. Alive," Sela stipulated.

She was going to see them returned to her father as her prisoners. She would give him the one thing he had wanted most – revenge.

Sela accepted two pulse grenades from Korenus and clipped them into the pocket of her uniform.

Suddenly, the sound of disruptor fire erupted from the communicator.

"What the hell is that?" Sela asked.

---

Tasha grinned as she leaned over the edge of one of the attack fighters.

Worf was inspecting the controls. Lieutenant Jae was underneath the belly of the ship, admiring the sleek design and attention to detail.

For a ten thousand year old vessel, this attack fighter was highly sophisticated.

"We don't know what kind of range they had. Even the Romulans were surprised to find them," Ghost shared.

"Legend says the Iconian Fleet had great warships. It only makes sense they would have smaller attack fighters as well," Worf said.

Tasha murmured in agreement.

"Better manoeuvrability," she said.

The Federation used them too in certain conflicts. They had proven particularly effective against Cardassian Needles.

They were small, fast ships that could wreak havoc on a starbase or a ship – especially in great numbers.

"We never knew for sure if these were meant for long distances," Ghost said.

Castillo's rebels had taken a particular interest in the Romulan findings on these ships. They had once considered the possibility of testing just how far they could go.

"But without a cloak, we didn't think we'd get too far. And the Romulans couldn't find any workable communications system," Ghost explained.

They suspected the Iconians must have used something else to radio information and orders.

"In any case, there's no way to remotely open the hangar bay door. At least, not anymore. Not without an EV suit," Ghost shared.

The only way the Romulans (and Castillo's team) had found was through a physical console. But to open that console near the wall would leave it completely exposed to space.

"Now it's a dead man's switch," Ghost said.

In spite of that disappointment, the four officers took the chance to geek out over the ancient attack fighters.

They were impressive ships.

To Tasha's astonishment, the control system was far simpler than she expected to find.

The control yoke, navigational sensors, attitude and heading indicators, and primary engine controls were all familiar enough technology.

Some things were universal.

Each attack fighter featured dual rail guns on the fixed wings along with a central, disruptor-style weapons array on the belly of the ship.

They had a full three-hundred and sixty degree horizontal adjustability. Vertically, they could be rotated up to seventy-three degrees.

"What's this?" Tasha asked.

Her face wrinkled as she studied one of the foreign controls. She climbed out of the attack fighter and poked around at an unfamiliar barrel on the front of the vessel.

"Careful," Ghost cautioned.

Tasha retracted her hand as if she had been burned.

"Those are drones," Ghost shared.

Each attack fighter was equipped with a store of power drone weapons. They were capable of independently targeting enemy vessels and could be used as both a powerful weapon and a countermeasure against enemy fire.

"It would be nice to have a few of those on the Enterprise," Lieutenant Jae said.

"Shame we can't fly one back for study," Worf said.

"Maybe if we can get communications online, then Data and Geordi could take a look? We might be able to get a message out to-"

Tasha's suggestion was cut off by a blast of disruptor fire.

All four members of the team hit the deck, seeking cover under the attack fighter, and trying to make their bodies as small as possible.

At first, the team thought they may have tripped some sort of ancient, automated security device.

Then they heard voices.

"Aekhei! Aekhei!"

Fire.

Wordlessly, Tasha ordered Ghost and Jae to stay put under the ship to lay down cover fire. Worf and an Ensign split off to take up a position to the right. Tasha and a second officer moved to cover the left.

They couldn't afford to be surrounded or outflanked.

Were the eight? Twelve?

Tasha tried to get a count. It was difficult with the dim lighting and all the equipment in the hangar. They had no clear line of sight.

Tasha dropped low, pressing her back against a supply crate. As Tasha clutched her phaser rifle, one singular thought consumed her mind.

There's no backup coming.

---

"Commander Riker? We're detecting weapons fire in the lower levels," Lieutenant Hatala said.

She frowned and looked up at Riker.

"Inside the hangar, sir," Hatala added.

Riker started barking orders just as fast the team threw them back.

"And life signs on-"

"We don't have internal sensors online for reading individual signals in that section, sir!"

There was no way to reach that section due to the crack in the hull. The Engineering team had barely started to place secondary communication boosters in the central hub.

They would have no way to get an independent sensor array installed. For the time being, they were trying to work with the limited Iconian consoles they had managed to reactivate and decipher.

The system didn't track the same set of factors as Starfleet technology.

"I need to know how many Romulans are on this base," Riker said.

"They must have beamed over just before the shield was in place," Beverly said.

"And I'd like to know how many of them made it over," Riker said, repeating his request.

Out of options, Riker tapped his communicator.

"Lieutenant Yar? We're detecting disruptor fire in your area," Riker said, hoping she would provide an update.

There was a short pause.

"Yes, sir," Tasha replied.

It was evident from her tone of voice that she was quite busy.

"It seems some of the Romulans may have beamed aboard before the shield was in place," Riker said.

"We are aware!" Worf barked in a gruff voice.

Any further communication was drowned out by a hail of fire.

Will had to focus. There was nothing they could do to help the team down in the hangar – but there were three other teams out there.

"Warn the team down in Engineering. I want Chief O'Brien and Verax recalled immediately," Riker ordered.

He couldn't leave them out there wandering alone – they might very well stumble upon more Romulans.

"And recall the team we sent out under Ensign Cevallos. Tell them to get back here as quickly as possible and to keep an eye out for intruders," Riker said.

It was going to be at least another twenty minutes before they could basic thermal sensors online. It would give them an idea of pockets where there might be life forms – but no way to distinguish between friend and foe.

"Lieutenant Wu, take a Security team and secure the power cell," Riker ordered.

"Aye, sir," she responded.

With five Security officers (and Ghost) stranded in the hangar, they were fast running out of people.

"Logan, Pepperidge, Ribeiro, Kaplan – grab a phaser rifle. We need to secure a perimeter," Riker said.

They weren't Security officers. But they were all Riker had.

"I'll help you," Castillo said, reaching for a weapon.

Riker stopped him.

"No, I need you here," Will said.

Nobody knew more about Romulan technology, the threat they faced, and Lantera itself.

"We need you here," Will said.

Richard didn't like sitting out while other people were taking the metaphorical punches.

"For all we know we got lucky, and they all beamed into the hangar," Riker suggested.

"But Worf and Tasha are trapped in there," Beverly protested.

Riker grinned.

"You mean the Romulans are trapped inside with Worf and Tasha," Riker threw back.

---

Data, Geordi, and Sonya were pouring over the power cell when they received word of the Romulan intruders.

"Be on the lookout," Riker advised.

Data immediately set down his tablet and reached for the phaser at his hip.

"What are you doing?" Geordi asked.

He had his own phaser drawn.

"Stay here and continue working on the power cell. I will stand guard until the Security team arrives," Data said.

Geordi put up a finger in protest.

"No, no, no. I'll watch the door. You keep working," Geordi said.

Data frowned. He opened his mouth to protest, but Geordi beat him to the punch.

"Ah! You can read this faster than I can. If there's anyone that's going to figure this out, it's you," Geordi said.

"Guys?" Sonya cut in.

"Geordi, none of that will matter if we cannot defend this position," Data explained.

"Which is why I will watch the door while you keep working," Geordi said. "You act like I can't do this. I had a phaser training too, you know."

Data's face said it all. He had no doubt in Geordi's abilities – but there was no telling how many Romulans were out there.

Data was the better shot – faster too.

"I know, I know. You're the android. But I can see them coming," Geordi argued, pointing as his VISOR.

A sudden blast from a phaser drew their debate to a halt.

Sonya was frozen in place. She had her phaser drawn, one arm trembling, aimed at the corridor.

A lone Romulan dropped to the floor.

Sonya said nothing. She had never fired on an enemy before. Geordi could tell Sonya was on edge. Her posture was tense, she looked uncharacteristically green.

"Stunned right?" Sonya choked out.

She didn't want to think about the possibility the Romulan was dead.

And Geordi didn't have the heart to tell her all their phasers were set to kill.

"Hey, hey you did good," Geordi assured her.

"DOWN!" Data ordered.

Geordi pulled Sonya down without a moment's hesitation. A blast of disruptor fire soared above them – hitting the wall behind them.

Data felled the second Romulan with a single quick blast.

"They fired above the power cell?"

Sonya blinked in disbelief.

"How could they… it's.."

She was having a hard time wrapping her head around it.

Geordi and Data wasted no time.

"I'll cover you," Geordi said as data made a beeline to the control panel.

"I am manually sealing this section," Data advised.

The door hissed closed.

"Ops, be advised that we have encountered the Romulans,," Geordi reported.

"Sit tight. We have a team inbound," Riker replied.

A moment later, there was a blast outside the door.

"Data, how many hits can that thing take?" Geordi asked.

Data shook his head.

"I believe we are about to find out," Data answered.

He backed away with his phaser drawn.

Another shot from a disruptor impacted the door. Data could tell it was made from the same strong structural material as the rest of the facility. He surmised it could withstand a few hits – maybe more.

But there was no shield and no way they could let the Romulans gain access to their equipment.

"If the Romulans were to gain access to our research on the power regulation-" Data began to warn.

"Honestly? I'm more worried about them getting a hold of you," Geordi replied.

It had been one of Data's primary fears about the mission.

Data's fingers clenched around the phaser in his hand. He had to manually stop himself from gripping the device too tight lest he risk crushing it.

The three fell silent, waiting and listening as the Romulans bombarded both the base and the door.

---

"Get back here straight away," Riker ordered. "And be advised – there are Romulans in the area."

"Understood, sir," Miles replied, acknowledging the order.

He glanced up at Verax.

"Looks like we've been recalled," Miles said.

"We shouldn't linger," Verax warned.

Miles swapped his tablet and diagnostic tricorder for a phaser instead.

"You don't have to tell me twice – my girl will have my guts for garters if I die here," Miles said.

Miles O'Brien wasn't afraid of the Romulans.

He was terrified of disappointing Keiko.

Miles and Verax weren't more than a few steps down one corridor when Verax came to a sudden stop. He cocked his head to the side, straining to hear.

His pointed ears allowed for superior directional hearing.

Without a word, Verax grabbed Chief O'Brien's arm. He pulled him into the nearest dark corner. They slipped into a maintenance shaft.

Not a moment too soon.

Through the ventilation slits of the maintenance shaft, Miles watched as a team of Romulans marched by in the corridor.

Two.

Then four.

Six.

They just kept coming.

"Jaysus," he whispered under his breath.

It looked like a whole contingent. And they weren't just officers. These Romulans were armed to the teeth with body armour and disruptor rifles.

"A strike team," Verax explained.

"We have to warn the others," Miles said.

Verax put up a hand, silently ordering Miles to wait. If Miles were to activate his communicator, it would only alert the Romulans to their position.

"Come," Verax said, beckoning for Miles to follow him down the maintenance shaft.

Miles took one last glance at the line of Romulans marching past in the corridor. A chill settled in the base of his spine.

They're still coming.

Without another word, Miles and Verax slipped off into the darkness.

---

The Romulan bombardment continued like clockwork. The entire outpost shook with each hit.

Worf and Tasha barely had time to think about it as they hid from a fresh barrage of disruptor fire. After a few seconds, they popped out to return their own hail of fire to slow the Romulan advance.

And so, on it went.

The two parties exchanged fire across the hangar as the Romulans crept along underneath ships and behind storage crates, inching closer with each round.

Tasha knew their position wasn't sustainable.

But there was nowhere to run.

Out of options, Worf decided to get creative.

"Hold them off," Worf ordered.

He dropped back around the corner and snapped open the back of his phaser rifle.

"We can't stay here," Tasha shouted above the noise.

She spied four more Romulans advancing through the scope of her phaser rifle. Tasha took aim and fired, felling two before the others disappeared from sight.

"Fall back with Jae. We need to find a more-"

Without warning, Tasha stumbled and clutched her head.

"Ah!" she cried out.

The pain was blinding, enough to cause Tasha to lose her footing and bring tears to her eyes. The ensign next to her dropped to the floor.

Under the belly of the attack fighter, Lieutenant Jae writhered in pain. Ghost jerked his body, clutching his ears as he tried to stop the force of the sound.

Tasha couldn't be sure how long it lasted. Every second of agony felt like an eternity.

Slowly she became aware of a familiar, outstretched hand. Tasha squinted and blinked as Worf's figure came into focus.

He hauled Tasha to her feet.

"What… what happened?" Tasha asked.

She glanced around and tried to get her bearings. She was still feeling disoriented.

"I remodulated the phaser to emit a high frequency sound pulse," Worf explained.

Worf knew that it would be physically painful for everyone in the hangar. The unique physiology of the Romulan ear meant they were far more susceptible to such high frequencies.

It was enough to momentarily stun the Starfleet crew. It left the Romulans unconscious.

Tasha hissed as she tried to pop her ear.

"Don't get me wrong – I'm grateful. But I didn't really think that was your style?" Tasha asked.

Typically, Worf considered such tactics to be dishonourable.

"Romulans are without honour. I figured turnabout was only fair play," Worf said.

He cast a dark glance in the direction of the Romulan intruders.

"The effect will not last long. We should get them rounded up," Worf advised.

---

On the Bridge of the Caelus, the mood was subdued.

"Sir? We could increase the disruptor power to-"

"No," Movar said.

He straightened his posture. His dark eyes narrowed as he watched another blast bounce off the shield.

"We will lose power before we penetrate that shield," Movar cautioned.

The helmsman turned back to his station as Movar settled into the big chair.

"We don't want to destroy Lantera," Movar explained.

It was the most important Iconian discovery to date. Movar knew that he would likely face a swift execution if he were responsible for giving such an order.

"Our goal is to keep them uncomfortable and distracted until the rest of the squadron arrives," Movar went on.

---

There was nothing Jean-Luc hated more than waiting around.

There had been no word from the team on the stolen Romulan ship. Jean-Luc was still trying to determine if that was a good or bad thing.

In another thirty-six hours, Jean-Luc would have to consider the mission a failure unless there was word from the team.

A small chime at the door drew Jean-Luc from his thoughts.

"Come!" Picard called out.

Wesley Crusher stepped inside looking more tense than he ever had before. The boy had always been a bit formal compared to his peers. Now he looked positively stiff.

"Have a seat, Mr Crusher. And relax. You're not in any trouble," Picard assured him.

Picard flashed Wesley a rare smile.

"In fact, we all owe you a great debt. Your quick thinking may very well have saved the ship," Picard went on.

Only felt didn't feel like a hero.

"Sir? Was it my fault that man died?" Wesley asked.

"No, Mr Crusher," Picard said. "He took his own life. Nothing you did caused that."

Wesley wasn't convinced.

"That's what I mean, sir. Was it because I trapped him in there?" Wesley pressed.

He paused, his brow furrowed with lines of worry that seemed so out of place on his young face.

"Because he had nowhere to go. I've read that Romulans will… well, that they consider suicide the only acceptable choice if they fail a mission," Wesley said.

"I believe that inevitably it would have come to that, yes," Picard agreed.

For the moment, he let Wesley's comment about the identity of Proventus slide. He wasn't about to chastise the boy for knowing about the situation.

"Regardless of the manner in which he was cornered, he would have taken his own life. And I am thankful it ended as it did without a hail of phaser fire in the corridor or hostages," Picard said.

There were a number of equally disturbing scenarios.

"As regrettable as it is, the situation could have ended with far more casualties," Picard pointed out.

Wesley nodded slowly in agreement.

Suddenly, his light brown eyes went wide with fear in a look that was all too reminiscent of Jack Crusher.

"Sir, my mother didn't tell me anything about… I just I knew that-

Wesley paused. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Please don't punish my mother. I figured it out on my own," Wesley confessed.

"I have no intention of reprimanding your mother, Mr Crusher," Picard promised.

He had surmised Wesley was smart enough to piece it all together. Jean-Luc knew they couldn't keep the secret forever.

"You're not the first and I'm sure you won't be the last," Picard said.

It was why they had reassigned Wesley as far as possible from any sort of activities that would tip him off. For months, Picard and the team had worked to keep up appearances and use strategic division of labour.

It wasn't just about maintaining the secret of the conspiracy. Their goal was to also protect the officers that had no inkling of the Romulans' plans.

"Eventually, we will have to face the music. I don't know what that will involve," Picard shared.

In the best possible outcome, Jean-Luc would surrender the ship. The end he feared was sabotage like what had destroyed the Horatio.

"And that is why I must ask you to accept that I will not be noting your involvement in today's log – nor any of the events of today," Picard said.

He couldn't risk it.

"I am grateful for your efforts. And proud to have you serving on this ship. But I cannot include your name and your involvement in this matter needs to end now," Picard ordered.

Wesley nodded solemnly.

"I understand, sir," he said.

He felt bad for Wesley.

His mother was gone on a mission to Romulan space. Deanna was there too. He had no mother nor counsellor to confide in.

Wesley had never quite connected with other students his own age. He spent his free time with Data and Geordi in the lab, game nights with the engineers, or hanging out with Commander Riker.

Jean-Luc wanted to kick himself. He was terrible at this sort of thing.

And yet, he could not stomach simply dismissing Wesley to go back to his quarters alone.

"Would you care to join me for lunch in Ten Forward?" Captain Picard asked.

Wesley's face lit up.

---

Guinan felt a twinge of concern the moment she spied the Captain and young Mr Crusher take up a seat in the corner of Ten Forward.

Jean-Luc rarely visited the lounge outside of official events or reception celebrations.

"What is this three, four times in as many days?" Guinan asked as she approached the table.

"I had not yet taken lunch and thought I might ask young Mr Crusher to join me," Picard said.

In truth, he didn't much feel like eating. Jean-Luc usually took a light breakfast with Beverly most mornings.

Today was different and even coffee had been hard to stomach.

"And I'm sure Mr Crusher's worked up a voracious appetite by now, hmm?" Picard asked.

Wesley shrugged. He wasn't terribly hungry either.

"This is my regular day to run the training circuit with Lieutenants Yar and Worf. Usually, I don't eat much before that," Wesley confessed.

He'd tossed his cookies after his first jaunt through the training circuit. Ever since then, Wesley had learned to carb up a few days in advance and then take it easy the day of.

"I guess I won't be doing that tonight," Wesley said with a hint of sorrow.

He narrowly avoided saying 'again.'

One of the staff passed with a tray of sizzling delicacies. It smelled enticing.

"I'll have that," Picard said, motioning to the tray.

Guinan quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"You want the Smoky Saurian Meat Platter?" she asked in disbelief. "Jean-Luc, if you're going to order something for appearances, poke at something that's not today's special."

Picard couldn't help but laugh.

"You caught me," he confessed.

Wesley's face fell as he realised what was happening.

"Ugh, that's alright, sir. I… I should probably get back to work," Wesley said.

"Nonsense!" Picard said, gesturing for Wesley to stay seated.

"You don't have to pretend you want to be here, Captain. I'm sure you're very busy," Wesley said.

He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth.

"I-I-I mean, thank you. It was very nice of you to offer but-"

Wesley stopped himself short of saying it was no secret the Captain didn't much care for children.

"I'm not terribly good at this. And it shows," Picard said.

To Wesley's surprise, Jean-Luc laughed.

"It would seem I'm about as good at this as I am at hiding confidential information," Picard mused.

The comment was enough to set Wesley at ease – even earning a warm smile from the young Ensign.

"You know, you look remarkably like your father when you smile," Jean-Luc said.

His voice carried a twinge of both pain and fondness. It had been many years since Jean-Luc had shared a laugh with Jack Crusher.

"At times like this I… I wish I had your father here to lean on. He was always good at giving advice – or kicking me when I needed a push," Picard shared.

Jack Crusher was more than a friend. He was a comrade in arms. A confidant. Confessor.

Jack Crusher was the brother Jean-Luc wished he'd known growing up.

"Look, I'm going to bring you two a tray of sandwiches. You can work out the rest from there," Guinan said before she slipped away.

The table descended into an uncomfortable silence. Jean-Luc took a sip of his water. Wesley busied himself with studying the painting on the wall.

"Forgive me," Picard said, breaking the silence. "I should not have been so casual in bringing up your father. I'm sorry if it-"

"It's alright," Wesley interjected.

He lifted his head to meet the Captain's eyes.

"I've wanted to ask you about him for a long time, Captain," Wesley admitted. "It just never really felt like the right time."

Guinan returned a moment later with a tray of food and set it down between the two of them.

Out of nowhere, Jean-Luc was struck by a memory. He grinned.

"There was a little deli near the dormitory on campus. And they made these jars of hot and sour peppers," Picard said.

He could recall the place well. It had been a staple part of his diet during his time at the Academy. The fresh aroma of hearty rye bread and homemade sourdough was enough to make Picard's mouth water.

"One night your father and I challenged each other to see who could eat their infamous Big Bay sandwich," Picard went on.

He shared that the deli marketed the behemoth as larger than a constitution-class ship and that the tissue-thin pastrami was stacked taller than the Cochrane Memorial Observatory that overlooked the bay.

"Forty-five minutes in and your father stopped. Stubborn as always, I refused to back down and kept eating," Picard shared.

The stomach cramps from the hot peppers had been nothing compared to the embarrassment of one Beverly Howard walking in to find him elbow-deep in a mess of food with mustard smeared on his nose (while a clean and smug Jack Crusher watched from across the table).

"And what happened?" Wesley pressed.

Picard froze.

"Uh… I uh, I couldn't finish it," Picard concluded.

He tugged his collar and cleared his throat.

"Oh," Wesley replied with a polite nod.

The story was far less climactic than he'd anticipated, and Wesley suspected the Captain had left out a few key details.

"Mum said you and dad were flatmates," Wesley said.

Jean-Luc nodded.

"Indeed, we were," Picard said.

It was a fact that had only further complicated the feelings between the two best friends and their mutual feelings for the vivacious Cadet Howard.

"So, you knew my mum then, too?" Wesley asked.

Picard visibly blanched.

"We were acquainted," he replied in a stiff voice.

"Captain Picard? Can you come up to the Bridge?"

Saved by duty. Picard mused.

"I'm sorry, Wesley," Picard said as he rose from his seat.

"It's okay, sir. I understand," Wesley replied.

He caught the Captain just as he turned to go.

"Thank you, sir," Wesley said.

"I promise at some point we will sit down and talk about your father," Jean-Luc said.

He only hoped they would all live long enough to have that chat.

---

"Sir, this is the third incoming message we've received from Admiral Aaron," Mr Hawk advised.

"Patch it through to my Ready Room. I'll take it in there," Picard responded.

From her position at Tactical, Ensign Lawson didn't follow.

"Shouldn't we respond, sir?" she asked.

"No. Maintain the communications blackout," Picard ordered.

He turned on his heel and marched to his Ready Room. Ensign Lawson exchanged a concerned look with her counterpart at the Sciences terminal.

Somehow Jean-Luc could sense this.

He stopped just shy of the door and turned back to address the crew.

"I have asked a great deal of you as of late with very little communication," Picard acknowledged. "I recognise this is a great ask."

Stating the obvious did little to stifle the unease on the Bridge. Whispers and rumours were the norm on any starship. With the travel restrictions and recent communications blackouts, those rumours only grew.

Mutiny was unthinkable.

And yet Picard's thoughts were increasingly consumed by the fear that it could become a possibility. After all, these people had been pushed to the breaking point.

And it remained probable there was a Romulan spy or spies aboard that had thus far eluded all efforts to root them out.

Jean-Luc had never forgotten the incident more than a year earlier in which technology and information was dispatched from the Enterprise for pickup by a Romulan ship.

The whole affair had been over in less than a day. The Romulans had gone so far as to infect most of the crew with a biological agent.

They had gone to great lengths to obtain that information.

The culprit(s) remained at large.

Captain Picard suspected they were doing everything they could to subtly drop hints to the crew, planting little seeds of dissent about the unfair travel restrictions and authoritarian-like crackdown on communication.

"I know this has not been easy. And I wish I could tell you more," Picard said.

He took a slow breath, studying the faces of the young Night Watch crew that had stepped up to pull double duty.

"For now, I'll just say thank you," Picard said.

He turned back to the door and prayed his little pep talk would be enough to placate the growing sense of discomfort.

---

"If you do not surrender the Enterprise in the next forty-eight hours, we will assume your ship is compromised," Admiral Aaron said.

Jean-Luc closed his eyes as the weight of that decision settled upon his shoulders.

It didn't stop there.

He could feel it in every fibre of his being. It carried down the back of his spine and pooled until his legs were nothing more than dead weight. Jean-Luc felt like the very gates of the underworld had opened to swallow him up whole and that the hounds of hell had come to drag him down under the weight of his own decision.

"If you do not surrender this ship then I will have no choice but to dispatch the seventh fleet with orders to neutralise the threat you pose by any means necessary," Admiral Aaron said.

Yes, hellfire had come to consume them all.

---

No sooner had Picard stepped off the Bridge when he returned.

Jean-Luc strolled over to the helm and input his command authorisation code.

"Mr Hawk, I want you to take the helm. Things may get a little hot where we're headed," Picard cautioned.

Hawk scrambled out of the Command Chair at took up his usual place at the helm. Hawk was one of the finest pilots on the ship.

"Lay in a course to these coordinates," Picard ordered.

Hawk glanced back over his shoulder at the Captain Picard.

"Sir?" he asked to clarify.

"Maximum warp," Jean-Luc said as he sat down and crossed his legs.

---

"How many of you are there?" Tasha demanded.

No one answered.

Tasha didn't like getting the silent treatment from the Romulans – she liked the strange look they were giving her even less.

Ever since they had come around, the captured Romulans had studied Tasha. They eyed her not with suspicion, but rather curiosity.

The team in the hangar had managed to capture twenty-three Romulans in total. There were another nine dead from the fire fight that preceded Worf's ingenious solution.

They had used all of their wrist restraints to bind the hands of the Romulans that looked to present the greatest threat. All Security officers carried a handful of such restraints.

Such restraints were reserved for extreme situations. In those instances, it was standard procedure to bind both the wrists and ankles of a hostile individual.

But because they only carried a few each, there weren't enough to go around. They'd managed to bind the wrists of the most intimidating looking Romulans – but it was less than half of those they'd captured.

"How many of you are there?" Tasha repeated.

One of the Romulans smirked.

"As if I would tell veruul like you that information," a Romulan Centurion spat.

He scoffed, looking the Starfleet team up and down.

"You cannot stop us. There are only six of you and far more of us," he said.

Tasha knew he had a point. But she wasn't about to admit that in front of him.

"I could say the word and we would all charge," the Centurion went on.

"And my team would not hesitate to fire," Tasha warned.

The Romulan chuckled.

"You wouldn't be able to kill all of us before we overrun you," the Romulan said, bold as brass.

It was no idle threat. They didn't care about the individual loss of life. Each and every one of them was prepared to die if it meant a handful would get through.

If reinforcements didn't arrive soon, the captured Romulans were fully prepared to go through with it. And each of them knew the Centurion in charge was simply using this taunt as a way to relay orders.

"Don't worry. We don't plan to kill all of you," he went on.

He glanced over at Worf, daring him to fire.

"Klingon prisoners prove most entertaining," the Centurion said before looking Ghost up and down.

He grinned.

"And you," he said, his eyes wild with excitement. "They'll parade you through the streets of the capital city in chains. Your execution will be broadcast on every Romulan frequency."

Years of such threats meant this comment only washed off Ghost.

Disappointed by a lack of response, the Centurion turned on Tasha.

"Bringing you in would probably warrant a commendation. The famous Lieutenant Yar," the Centurion said.

Tasha shivered.

She told herself that this Romulan must have been briefed on the Enterprise. They had long suspected a spy was aboard.

It only made sense they would have information about the crew manifest.

Yet, Tasha couldn't swallow the sense of fear that gripped her core.

"What do you say? For the glory of the Empire?" the Romulan teased.

Tasha instinctively stepped back.

The Centurion threw back his head and roared with laughter. He was pleased with himself. The officers were all on edge and it showed.

Worf, who was well past the point of agitation, took aim at one of the Romulans with his phaser rifle.

Ghost followed.

"If they won't talk, then there isn't much point in keeping them alive," Ghost said.

"I concur," Worf said.

Tasha was outraged.

"Whoa! Lower your phasers. Now," Tasha ordered.

She shook her head in disbelief.

"We do not shoot prisoners, is that clear?" Tasha asked in a terse voice.

"With all due respect, you're making a mistake," Ghost said without lowering his phaser.

His own experience had hardened him to the same principles that once dictated his Starfleet career. He recognised Tasha was only doing what she felt was right. But Ghost didn't trust any of them and he knew how outnumbered they were.

"He's right," Worf chimed in.

To Tasha's horror, the rest of the team followed their lead.

Tasha realised she was quickly losing control of the team. Fear did strange things to people.

"These people are our prisoners. For fuck's sake half of them are children," Tasha argued as she stepped in front of Worf's rifle.

She dropped her voice.

"Lower your weapon, Lieutenant," Tasha said, asserting her authority as the officer in command.

For several tense seconds, the two friends stared at one another.

"Worf," Tasha said, pleading with him.

He relented.

The moment did not last long.

The Romulan Centurion swept his leg out, knocking Tasha off her feet. She fell onto Worf, knocking them both to the floor.

The other Romulans seized on the opportunity and charged.

Lieutenant Jae managed to take out two Romulans before she was overpowered. Ghost fought valiantly, struggling with a large, powerful uhlan before they managed to get his phaser rifle away from him.

Ensign Courtenay took a blunt blow from the butt of her own stolen phaser rifle.

Lieutenant Hopkins was hit with a blast and dropped to the floor – dead.

Tasha felt the barrel of a phaser at the back of her head.

"You should have killed us when you had the chance," the Centurion said.

---

The mood inside the central Operations hub remained tense. Nonetheless, the team rose to the occasion. They worked mostly in silence as the bombardment continued to rock Lantera.

Deanna did her best to help where she could, but the atmosphere was suffocating. All of the collective fear and anxiety was enough to overwhelm her.

The pain was not unlike a migraine.

Deanna had to step away for a minute or she risked the pain devolving to the point that she could not function.

She stumbled toward the rail for support.

A strong arm caught Deanna and helped guide her to a safe place to sit away from the others. Most of the platform was suspended in the centre of the hub. There were a few spaces where there was solid wall along the edge.

One slip and someone could fall hundreds of metres down.

Deanna strained her vision, fully expecting to see Will Riker and was prepared to tell him off for stepping away from his place in command.

Instead, she found a set of warm blue eyes. The wrinkles at the corner had been caused by years of worry. Though if Deanna didn't know better, she would think they were caused by smiling.

"Here," Castillo said.

Deanna his pleasantly as Castillo pressed his cold canteen against the back of her neck.

"Vil Arandev always said this helped," Castillo said.

"Thanks," Deanna said.

She closed her eyes and focused on the cool sensation at the base of her neck. It helped in focusing her mind, allowing Deanna to block out everything else.

The tension began to melt away.

Castillo recognised the signs of Betazoid psychic fatigue. Vil Arandev had once shared that such prolonged exposure to constant anguish could cause permanent damage to a Betazoid mind.

Vil Arandev had never complained. He never let it show.

But there were times he would wander off to be alone for a few hours. Arandev was quick to volunteer for solitary scout missions and watch duty. He relished in the solitude, the chance to take a break from all of the collective agony, fear, and resentment that festered in the minds of the fellow survivors.

It was a difficult task for even one person to get a hold of it within their own mind – Arandev had been forced to confront the trauma of all the survivors.

Deanna could sense all of this in him along with the deep loss Castillo felt from Arandev's sacrifice.

"The last thing I felt before we beamed over was-"

She paused to compose herself.

"Relief," Deanna settled on.

It had been so pure, so blissful that she was desperate to cling to that moment.

Deanna gripped Richard's hand.

"He was happy. You need to know that he was happy at the moment of his death," Deanna said.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that Arandev welcomed the peace that came with his death.

Without warning, a loud clang sounded from the wall behind them.

Castillo and Deanna scrambled backward as a furious pounding resonated out from the spot.

All activity in the central hub came to a halt.

Bang.

Bang.

Riker pointed at the two closest officers.

"You and you. With me," he ordered.

Phasers drawn, they approached the wall slowly.

Bang.

Bang.

They could hear someone or something hitting against the metallic panel that lined the wall. It echoed through the large, open chamber.

And they could see each hit.

Will Riker's palm felt damp around the handle of his phaser as he braced himself for whatever was to come.

"We cannot let them get a foothold here," Riker said.

He hoped that his words would inspire the team. But he felt they only sounded shaky, fearful of what failure would hold in store.

Bang.

Bang.

With a great crack, the panel gave way.

Lieutenant Alvarez fired without hesitation. The blast hit the rail near an exposed portion of the platform, sending it tumbling down into the abyss below.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Riker shouted.

"Bloody hell!" Miles O'Brien said, breathing hard as he glanced back at the empty spot where the railing had once stood.

That phaser blast had travelled right over his shoulder.

"Good to see you," Castillo said as he offered the pair his hand. "We were starting to get worried."

Verax ran his hand back through his dark hair to smooth it down. They were red-faced and sweaty from the climb.

"We had to double back and find an alternative route. This place is crawling with Romulans," Verax said.

"I lost count at twenty-eight," Miles said.

A dark look passed between Miles and Verax.

"We couldn't hang around. It looks like an entire strike team," Verax said.

Richard Castillo knew exactly what that meant. But the Romulan classification was lost on the rest of them.

A Starfleet 'strike team' was an eight-person team of Security specialists with specific training.

"I don't understand. What does that mean in terms of size, scope, armaments?" Riker asked.

Before Verax could explain, the conversation was interrupted.

"Sir, we've lost contact with the team in the hangar," Mr Barclay warned.

"Long range sensors are detecting two more vessels. Inbound," Ensign Greene reported.

Before Riker could ask for more information, the console sparked. A fellow officer pulled Greene out of the way just in time before it blew.

"Let's get this fire out!" Deanna ordered.

Beverly rushed forward to see to the wound on Ensign Greene's hand. She'd sustained a nasty plasma burn.

"It's an overload, sir. We're still working to isolate the right input from our generators," Greene said as Doctor Crusher applied a specialised burn salve to the red, swollen flesh on Greene's palm.

To avoid the same overload issues as the Romulans, the team was relying on their own independent generators to get the Iconian systems up and running.

Miles knew the priority was to get the long-range scanner back online. They had picked up two incoming ships but had no idea what size they were or when they would arrive.

For all they knew, this could just be the first of many ships.

He frowned as he inspected the charred remains of the control circuitry.

"It's going to take at least an hour to strip away the damaged portions before we can begin to piece it back together," Miles said.

"Does anyone have good news?" Riker asked, irritated.

---

"Stop," Sela ordered.

Two Uhlans stood motionless as Sela approached them.

"What do you think you are doing?" Sela demanded.

She didn't wait for an answer.

Sela yanked the explosive charge away from them.

"Do you have any idea what's behind that door? What sort of chain reaction you might cause by detonating an explosive so close to the power core?" Sela asked.

She handed it off to Korenus.

"Fools!" Sela hissed, whacking the two young Uhlans on the back of their heads.

They backed away, muttering apologies as they tried to blend in with the rest of their group.

"Permission to speak, Commander?" A Centurion asked.

"Are you the idiot that ordered the use of microcharge in the vicinity of the power cell?" Sela questioned.

Korenus bit back a grin as he watched Sela backhand the Centurion.

"Find. Another. Way," she ordered through gritted teeth.

Something caught the eye of Korenus – a flutter of movement in the dark.

A phaser blast rippled down the corridor, felling the Centurion right next to Sela.

Korenus dove, pulling Sela into the alcove of the door that led to the room housing the power cell. It took Sela a moment to get her bearings as the two parties exchanged fire in the corridor.

She poked out to join the team and froze.

Sela dropped back against the wall.

"Starfleet," she breathed.

"Huh," Korenus said, peeking out to catch a glimpse.

It had been years since he had last encountered any Starfleet personnel on a mission.

"They must have come for the weapon," Sela said. "That means the rebels have been in contact with them."

But how? When?

And most importantly – for how long?

Sela frowned as she tried to piece it all together.

Castillo and his rebels were supposed to be dead – though no wreckage had been found. Her father believed it must have drifted through space and broken upon entry into the nearest planet's atmosphere.

Sela had thought Castillo was dead right up until the moment she got notice the ship was found.

She presumed they would find Castillo's band of rebels and some traitor dissidents that were a part of the Free Romulan State movement.

She had never expected to find Starfleet.

"This changes everything," Sela said. "We cannot allow them to have access to the weapon."

"Why is it so important?" Korenus asked.

"This is the most important discovery of Iconian technology in the last thousand years," Sela hissed as her fingers closed around his throat. "It is ours. It belongs to the Empire."

She upped the setting on her disruptor, changing it from 'kill' to 'vaporise.' Sela wanted to ensure there would be no survivors.

Sela stepped out from behind the alcove with her weapon drawn.

"Kill them all," she ordered.

---

Behind the bulkhead, Data heard Lieutenant Wu order the team to fall back. They were outnumbered dangerously close to being overrun.

"We must help them," Data said.

"I agree – but how? We have to protect this power cell," Geordi responded.

Data knew Geordi was right. They could not risk the Romulans getting in. And there was little they could do. Even if they were to rush out into the corridor, it would make little difference against such superior numbers.

"I have an idea. But we must act quickly," Data said.

He holstered his phaser and reached for his tablet.

"Ensign Gomez, please grab one of the portable generators and follow me," Data ordered.

He studied the ventilation for a moment before popping off the maintenance access panel. Data climbed inside with Sonya right behind him.

"I guess I'll watch the door," Geordi said with a shrug.

---

"Data, what are we-"

Data shushed her.

They were directly over an adjacent corridor, and he feared a savvy Romulan might hear their approach.

Data pointed at the Sonya and then the generator. He would need her to operate the portable power pack as Data needed both of his hands in order to make the plan work.

She flashed him a thumbs up to signal that she understood.

Data clicked into his tablet's operations screen. He carefully aligned the device above the ventilation shaft.

Now. He mouthed, nodding to Sonya.

---

Sela's forces were just starting to close ranks on the Starfleet team when her rear flank failed, turning their weapons away from the group ahead and toward an adjacent corridor.

"Commander! We are about to be overrun!"

Sela wasn't prepared to back down.

"We have to press the attack. On me," she ordered, preparing to charge.

Korenus glanced at the rear flank. The Uhlan that had risked everything to warn of an oncoming attack shook his head, pointing down the corridor.

Before Sela could rush forward, Korenus pulled her back into the crowd as he ordered the team to hold their position.

Sela's protests quickly died as she caught sight of a second team of Starfleet officers.

"Drop your weapons," one ordered.

A part of Sela wanted to roll her eyes at the sheer ineptitude of these Federation weaklings. They had both surprise and numbers on their side. They could have simply dispatched most of Sela's team before they were wise to it.

Instead, they had opted not to fire.

Another part of Sela was grateful they didn't have the same resolve. It was a chance to escape.

"Drop your weapons," a Starfleet officer repeated.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Sela ordered.

Her own forces began to retreat.

Without the ability to beam in additional troops, Sela's resources were limited. Most of her team was still scattered and she'd sent the bulk of them up to the primary Operations centre.

Sela couldn't afford a firefight.

Yet.

Sela's team backed away down the corridor. They retreated to the safety of an adjacent area. Once they were clear, they ran and made a break for a rendezvous point in the abandoned Iconian locker room of sorts.

It had only way in and was an easily defensible position.

Starfleet did not follow.

They sealed the bulkheads between them, and Sela ordered six guards to keep watch.

She punched one of the metal lockers along the wall. Her fist throbbed with pain.

"It would seem there are more of them than we expected," Sela spat.

Starfleet had been a shock – their numbers doubly so.

They had only had a few seconds to scan the outpost. They hadn't registered many life signs. It was possible their initial scans had missed things.

Sela was also forced to admit that these Starfleet officers might be more organised than she had previously believed was possible.

"We need to reestablish communications with the Caelus," Sela ordered.

They needed sensors and comms.

"Commander, the shield is preventing-"

"Get it done!" Sela barked.

Korenus was suddenly struck with an idea.

"Don't all shields operate on a frequency?" Korenus asked.

Sela blinked at him in disbelief like he was some kind of idiot.

"Well, can't we use that?" Korenus pressed.

"Our science team has thus far been unable to-" one of the Centurions began to protest.

"Silence," Sela hissed.

She paused. Her eyes narrowed as she tapped her chin, mulling over the suggestion.

"The shield strength is directly proportional to the amount of kinetic energy directed at it," Sela said.

She had spent countless hours pouring through the specs of Lantera. Sela wasn't just curious – she was absolutely fascinated by Iconian technology and sought to familiarise herself with all aspects of the once great Empire.

"Send a low frequency transmission. The message will need to be simple and something Movar will be able to decipher," Sela said.

Any message they sent would be distorted. It would take time for the team on her ship to even identify the anomaly and even longer for them to piece it together.

"Send 'porta.' And set it to repeat," Sela said.

She took a deep breath and straightened her collar.

"Let's hope Movar gets it," Sela grumbled.

He could be awfully conceited at times, stiff in his resolve to follow Romulan procedure to the letter and had a habit of overlooking important details because he couldn't see beyond his rigid view of Romulan supremacy.

He'd once nearly cost Sela an entire division of troops after he brazenly committed them to a lost battle against a Breen cruiser.

Korenus couldn't be more different.

Though rough around the edges, he was clever, creative, and willing to get his hands dirty. That ingenuity had sparked Sela's own mind. And now it was tingling with possibilities.

"In the meantime, I want a team to locate a secondary communications array," Sela announced.

The Iconian outpost was littered with weapons platforms. It was all part of their design to ensure there were backups in the event the primary Operations hub was destroyed or overrun.

"They had to have a way of dispatching communications through the shield. Perhaps their own system can penetrate it?" Sela pondered aloud.

---

"I can't believe they really ran from a hologram," Sonya said in awe.

"Let us not linger on it. For I do not believe that will work a second time," Data said as they scrambled back down the ventilation shaft and into the room that housed the power cell.

Geordi was relieved the disruptor fire had stopped.

"You know, one hit on this power cell and the whole place would have gone up. Hell, the whole star system for all we know!" Geordi remarked.

Data opened the door to allow Lieutenant Wu and her team access.

The team took up a defensive position around the entrance. Lieutenant Wu tapped her communicator to touch base with Riker.

"The Romulans have fallen back. We've secured the power cell, but I don't know how long we can hold it," Wu reported.

She had just a handful of officers and it was likely the Romulans would return in greater numbers.

"For now, hold your position," Riker responded.

What was left unsaid was the understanding that there was no one else to send.

---

There was a sharp sizzle of crackling electricity followed by the hum of a long-dead console coming back online.

The terminal began to glow.

Sela pulled herself out from underneath and wiped the sweat from her brow. She had diverted power from a secondary storage unit and there was no telling how long it would last before it shorted out again.

Sela worked quickly, bypassing basic Iconian security measures to access the communications array.

"You can read that?" Korenus asked.

"I was born a Paliurus. I've been reading Iconian since I was six," Sela responded without looking away.

"Of course, you did," Korenus chuckled with amusement.

All aristocratic Romulan children were expected to have a basic understanding of the Iconian language. Very few took the application of their studies as seriously as Sela did.

Korenus could identify a handful of words and symbols. He knew enough to count to ten. And that was the extent of his knowledge.

Even among those that studied regularly at the Education Institutions, few could read and translate in real time – let alone operate Iconian technology with the same proficiency as Sela.

"Mmmm," Korenus murmured as he came up behind her.

Sela tensed, rolling her shoulders as Korenus tried to nibble at her ear.

"You are supposed to be keeping watch," Sela reminded him.

"But divines, you look so hot when you work," Korenus growled.

"Remove your hand from my thigh or I will slice it off," Sela warned.

Korenus took the hint.

"Guard the corridor," Sela ordered.

Sela yelped as Korenus swatted her.

"It is my honour to watch your backside," he said.

Korenus backed away in a low bow.

"My lady," he added with a wry grin.

Sela cleared her throat but did not give him the satisfaction of a response. She was torn between the need to tear Korenus to pieces for his insolence and the desire to tear his clothes off.

When she thought it was safe to look, Sela glared in his direction.

She visibly bristled, humiliated at having been caught when he waved in response.

He shot her a cheeky wink.

Impudent oaf! Sela thought as she turned back to her work.

---

Tasha reached for the knife at her belt. She couldn't get to it in time and was forced to roll out of the way as the Romulan Centurion brought his fist down.

She tried to scramble to her feet – only to be hauled back by the ankle.

Tasha and the team had known it was a longshot. They figured there was no way the Romulans were going to keep them alive.

And no one wanted to risk the possibility of the slim chance the Romulans might actually make good on that threat.

Tasha would rather die fighting on the floor of that hangar than risk becoming a captive.

Worf was trapped in a tussle with a particularly large Romulan. No sooner had he managed to throw him off when another Romulan swept in.

Ghost managed to get a disruptor away from one of them. He fired in rapid succession, felling the Romulans that had pinned down Tasha and Ensign Courtenay.

Tasha reached for the level-one phaser she kept hidden at the back of her tactical vest and took aim.

The Romulan atop Worf slumped dead. Worf groaned as he rolled the body off of him.

Lieutenant Jae scrambled for a dropped phaser and slid the nearest one across the floor to Worf.

The five remaining members of the team backed away to take up a position with more cover as the Romulans rushed for their disruptors.

The team dove behind the control console for protection.

"We can't stay here," Jae said.

The five of them took turns, ducking for cover and popping out to lay down enough fire to repel the Romulan advance.

It wasn't enough.

"Worf?" Tasha asked.

She didn't need to say more. He knew she wanted him to do the same trick he'd pulled last time. They would find a better way to contain the Romulans.

"I need a phaser rifle," Worf answered.

The small, level-one phasers Tasha kept hidden weren't powerful enough. Worf also didn't want to try messing with a disruptor.

"What if we set one on overload and blow this console?" Tasha suggested.

It would kill all of them – sparing them the possibility of Romulan captivity.

"I have an idea," Ghost said.

Tasha followed his line of sight to the surface of the console. They could blow open the hangar bay door.

"You could make for the ships," Ghost said.

He nodded toward the Iconian attack fighters that were scattered about the hangar.

"There's no guarantee they'll work," Ghost acknowledged.

If they did, four of them might be able to hang on long enough for the Starfleet crew to repressurise the hangar.

If it didn't, they would all be dead anyways.

"Go," Ghost said.

"No," Tasha said, shaking her head. "We'll find a solution for all of us."

Ghost shot her a knowing look. They were out of time. There was nowhere they could run, no place to hide.

Exposing the hangar to space was their only option.

"Then I'll do it," Tasha said suddenly.

She was the officer in command of the team. The responsibility to see them all to safety rested in her jurisdiction.

"You didn't come this far just to die now," Tasha said.

Ghost knew she was right. He also knew he couldn't he never repay Tasha Yar for the sacrifice she made for him, for all of them.

Ghost knew that without her, the Romulan Free State movement would never have grown to what it was today.

Castillo and his Rodhas Rebels were simply one splinter branch of a far wider network of dissidents.

Nor could he tell her why he felt compelled to save her.

"Let me take this one," Ghost said.

He flashed her a strange smile.

"Please?"

There was something spooky about the way Ghost was staring at her. Tasha couldn't put her finger on it, but it made her feel odd.

Not in the way a lech did with a crude look from across the bar.

No, this was like talking to someone who knew more than they were letting on.

"Alright. Alright," Tasha said.

Her chest felt tight.

Tasha was a firm believer that no one was left behind. Leaving Ghost went against everything – and only added to Tasha's collective sense of misplaced guilt.

"Go," Ghost said.

Ghost squeezed her hand.

"You see Coyote – tell him he's a big oaf and then give him a kiss for me, eh? He'll know what it means," Ghost said.

Tasha nodded, feeling slightly confused by this request.

"We lay down a barrage and then break for the ships on three, ready?" Tasha ordered.

Worf got into a stance, ready to spring. He nodded in Tasha's direction.

Lieutenant Jae tossed out two small flash beacons as the team sprayed the incoming Romulan line with everything they had.

"GO!" Tasha ordered.

They wouldn't have much time to get inside and seal the cockpit chambers before Romulans overran Ghost's position.

Tasha scrambled up the ramp with a burst of speed. She dove inside.

But before she could sit up and close the cockpit, she felt a firm hand close around her ankle.

It was the same stubborn Centurion from before.

This time, Tasha didn't hesitate.

He dodged the blast from her phaser. In desperation, Tasha kicked. She delivered a powerful blow square to his nose.

And yet the Centurion was only momentarily dazed.

Tasha kicked the button to close the cockpit and it was not a moment too soon.

She watched in a mix of relief and horror as the Centurion shrank in size, blown away out into the frozen expanse of space along with the rest of his team.

Tasha closed her eyes and collapsed back against the seat of the cockpit. She took several slow breaths to try and regulate her breathing.

The cockpit was sealed, but there was no indication on how long the life support would last.

She looked to her right and smiled.

Worf.

He offered her a stiff nod.

To her left, Tasha was relieved to find Ensign Courtenay.

One fighter down, Lieutenant Jay flashed her a wry thumbs up.

They had made it.

They had all made it.

Tasha tapped her combadge.

"Command Centre? This is Yar. Do you copy?" Tasha asked.

---

"Commander? I'm detecting depressurisation in the hangar. It's too fast to be a leak," Barclay said. "I-I-I think the hangar door is open. The whole room must be exposed to space."

It was devastating news.

Suddenly, the radio clicked.

"Command Centre? This is Yar. Do you copy?"

Richard was overcome with relief. He gripped the nearest console to stay upright.

She was alive.

"Yes!" Barclay said, pumping his fist.

He suddenly stiffened and cleared his throat.

"S-sorry, Commander," Barclay stammered.

He dropped his gaze to the floor and braced himself for a telling off. Now wasn't the time or place to get cocky. It seemed inappropriate given the situation.

"Mr Barclay!" Riker's voice boomed. "I think we all share that sentiment."

Riker couldn't be more pleased.

They had some good news at last.

"Hopkins and Ghost are dead," Tasha reported, wasting no time. "The hangar's been exposed. At the moment, we're holed up in the Iconian attack fighters. I have no way of knowing how long life support will last."

The clock was ticking.

"Sir, the Romulans that attacked us-"

"Mr Verax believes they are part of a strike team," Riker said, cutting her off.

If their time was limited, he needed to get as much information and expertise from Tasha before it was too late.

"T, I know you're trapped down there. But I need to know what you know. What do you think we ought to do?" Riker pressed.

He filled her on the situation. Chief O'Brien and Verax had seen the Romulans assembling on one of the lower levels.

"The team down in the power cell was able to repel them. They haven't tried again," Riker said.

"They're probably regrouping. The team we encountered didn't seem to expect being beamed into a hangar," Tasha shared. "I suspect something disrupted the signal when they beamed over – probably that shield."

It was the only thing Tasha could think of that would be causing such interference.

"They had trouble communicating with their ship too," Tasha added.

She paused.

"You need to use this time, sir. I know you're reluctant to send anyone out," Tasha said.

She could understand Riker's hesitation.

"Lock down the bulkheads. Expose sections to space. Use the microcharges if you have to," Tasha said.

"But the team down in Engineering?" Riker pressed.

There was a momentary pause.

"Sir, we all knew this was likely a one way trip. The best chance they have of completing their mission is to cut them off from any possible Romulan barrage," Tasha said.

Riker grimaced.

"That will leave our people completely cut off. If the shield fails and the Romulans find a way to beam more people in-"

"Sir?"

It was Data.

"I may have an idea," Data said.

---

"Are you sure about this?" Riker asked.

"It is a simple matter of scrambling the input authorisation," Data said as if it were as simple as flipping a switch.

Data's idea was to reprogramme the Romulan security devices they had first encountered. They had recovered eight of them in total scattered throughout the ship.

Data identified key areas where these traps could be used to prevent the Romulans from accessing the central corridors between the central hub and the power cell.

All of that was assuming they weren't already hiding in those areas.

"Even if some of them have managed to get into these key places and are waiting to strike, we will have cut off the majority of the Romulan forces," Data explained.

"Assuming they don't have a way to beam aboard more troops," Riker countered.

He had a lingering fear this was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Data, they were on us from the moment we got in here. Who knows what else they have waiting. We barely have systems operating as it is," Riker went on.

They had hardly had any time to even begin working on the weapon itself.

"I will work as quickly as I can to get the weapon online. I am confident Geordi and I can complete this task," Data said.

"I know you will. I just don't know if we have enough time," Riker said.

Riker sighed. He was feeling more tired than he had in ages.

"Data, I want you to start thinking about alternative plans if we run out of time," Riker said.

Data cocked his head to the side and frowned.

"Sir?" he prompted.

"We can't let the Romulans have this weapon," Riker said.

"Right," Data agreed.

But there was a small pause in his voice.

"Data," Riker said, imploring him to see reason.

Data opened his mouth, but Riker put up his finger.

"I know, you've probably got a very good reason to protest that decision. And I know this could be the very last evidence of a long-dead civilisation," Riker said.

He had to cut Data off before it went any further.

"And you've probably got a million good reasons to save this place. But we can't," Riker urged. "Not this time, Data. Not at the risk of the Romulans getting their hands on this weapon."

Will had no doubt it would only be a matter of time before the Romulans eventually resumed their work at the outpost and overcame the power regulation issues that had plagued their research in the past.

Riker scratched his chin as he looked up and down the corridor.

"I have another order for you as well, Data," Riker said.

Will sighed and cracked his neck, trying to find the right words.

"I've thought long and hard about this," Riker prefaced.

He'd been thinking about it ever since that first console overloaded in the Operations centre.

"I'm going to join the team defending the power cell. I want you up in the Operations centre," Riker said.

Data's brow furrowed as he studied Commander Riker's expression. He looked drawn. The gentle creases near his eyes that were the result of his brilliant and easy smile now conveyed only worry.

"But sir, the power cell-"

Data trusted Geordi. But they were working against the clock. Data's presence down in the engineering section could be the difference between hours or days of work.

"Data, there is so much happening in the Operations centre. We have less than half the systems up and running. Now the Romulans?"

Riker trailed off and shrugged.

"We need someone up there running the show that can process information, anticipate threats, and issue orders faster and better than I will ever be able to do," Riker said.

Will flashed Data a small smile.

"And let's face it – your brain is a lot more valuable than mine," Riker added.

This wasn't about a lack of confidence or shirking his duty. Will wasn't trying to pass the burden of command off onto another.

This wasn't like the Jarada.

Will Riker knew their best chance at surviving long enough to complete the mission relied on Data's leadership.

"I think it's also our best shot at getting out of here alive," Riker said.

Data was surprised to hear this.

"Sir, our only route of escape was destroyed, and we have no way to send an outgoing message to Captain Picard," Data said.

Riker smirked.

"Let's just say that I'm holding onto hope," Riker said.

Hope.

A strange look crossed Data's face. Riker's shoulders slumped. Data realised that his response gave the wrong impression.

"Forgive me, sir. That was not to express disinterest in your belief," Data quickly said. "Rather, Lieutenant Yar said something similar the other night."

A broad grin broke out across Will's face. He slapped Data on the back.

"See?" he said brightly.

---

The hull of the outpost creaked and groaned. Another wave of bombardment shook Lantera.

And then everything settled.

Ensign Luis Cevallos strained his ears as he listened for any sound that might indicate the Romulans were nearby.

All he could hear was the sound of his breath and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

The silence was unnerving.

Luis shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Why aren't the Romulans attacking?" Ensign Haversham asked.

They had superior numbers and the advantage of surprise. There weren't enough people to send out teams to search.

Data had managed to help get the Iconian sensors back online. The team wasn't sure if they did not track life signs or were simply damaged – either way, it was impossible to tell where the Romulans were hiding.

"Because they're like a predator waiting in the tall grass," Lieutenant Commander Logan said. "They're waiting because they want to frighten us."

"Well, it's working," Haversham replied.

---

Things had calmed considerably in the wake of the Romulan retreat.

It had been ninety minutes since the attack on the power cell. Data was now running the show in the central Operations hub.

They had managed to get basic Iconian sensors online. There were still two ships inbound and closing fast.

Based on their size and speed, Data suspected they were Romulan D'deridex cruisers.

The team had managed to figure out the power regulation issues that had previously overloaded the console.

Things were stable for the moment.

They had regained control of the basic outpost operating systems – bulkheads, air filtration, communications.

And down in the power cell area, Geordi and Sonya were making real progress with the help of the team on the central hub.

While Beverly tended to the wounded, Castillo, Verax, and Deanna poured over the Romulan translations of the weapon schematics – advising Geordi and Sonya as they worked.

In the hangar, Worf and Tasha were bored out of their minds.

There was nothing worse than waiting for death.

Especially when all they could do was drum their fingers on the helm console of the attack fighters.

Even the steady bombardment of the Romulan disruptor fire had faded into the background of the workload at hand. The team was now accustomed to it. They braced when necessary and then dove right back into their work when the shaking stopped.

Reg Barclay had successfully interfaced one of their own monitoring tools with the Iconian shield grid matrix. It allowed them to keep tabs on the system.

So far, the shields were holding steady.

"Commander? We're picking up on an unusual anomaly," Reg said.

"Continue work on the interface. I will return momentarily," Data instructed.

He nodded to Crewman D'escor before slipping away to join Lieutenant Barclay.

"It's a low frequency sound wave. This was not present when we first arrived," Reg explained.

"Perhaps we are only now capable of detecting it?" Data suggested.

Reg rocked his head back and forth.

"I don't think so, sir. You see, I detected it on my tricorder. It wasn't registering on the device before," Reg said.

"Hmm. May I?" Data asked.

He gestured to the tricorder. Reg handed it over for Data to study. His dark brow furrowed.

"It's well below any frequency used for our communications or the Romulans," Reg said.

Data nodded in agreement.

"It could be one of the new systems we have managed to bring online or a previously undetectable signal from the Romulan security devices," Data surmised.

The origin point of the signal was in an area the team had sealed off. Data didn't have the people to dispatch a team to investigate it – even if they could reach it.

"I do not believe this is something we need to concern ourselves with at this time. But you did right to bring it to my attention. Thank you, Mr Barclay," Data said as he handed the tricorder back.

---

"That's good. That's real good," Geordi called back over his shoulder. "Now bring it up a little – whoa! Right there."

Sonya keyed in her authorisation code to lock the power setting in at the current level.

Geordi took a step back and wiped the sweat from his brow. After a deep breath, he put his hands on his hips and glanced around.

"Alright, let's see what can make of these couplings," he said.

"Anything I can do to help?" Commander Riker asked.

Geordi's heart went to him.

He knew Commander Riker didn't like to stand still for too long. He was antsy and desperate to hide it from the rest of the team for fear they might misconstrue it as fear.

Part of Riker's agitation was the fact that he felt he wasn't being useful. The other part was physical.

Back pain from an old injury made standing in one place a challenge after too long. But there were only so many times he could run a perimeter check without drawing questions.

"I know you want to help, sir but-"

"Naw, I get it. I'd just be in the way," Riker said as he waved his hand.

Geordi flashed him a sympathetic smile before turning back to his work.

"It's fine. I'm overdue to check in with the team in the hangar anyways," Riker said.

He was hoping Tasha might have some ideas to put him to work.

Will tapped his combadge.

"T? It's been nearly two hours since we heard from the Romulans. Don't you think it's time we go welcome our guests?" Riker asked.

"Negative, sir," Tasha replied without hesitation.

She paused.

"I know you want to get out there and do something. And waiting around is… beyond frustrating," Tasha acknowledged.

She was itching to do something herself.

"But that's what the Romulans want. They haven't made a move yet because they're probably hunkered down in some defensible position," Tasha said.

Riker knew she was right.

"They want to draw us out so they can pick us off. Stay in place and let them come to you, sir," Tasha urged.

"Hopefully in this lifetime," Riker grumbled.

---

Sela checked the timepiece on her wrist and fought the urge to roll her eyes.

It had been nearly two hours since they had dispatched their message. Movar had yet to figure it out.

Her troops were growing anxious. It was hard to hang onto the momentum of a mission when they were in standstill.

Suddenly, Sela gripped her disruptor rifle and marched toward the door.

"Come. Movar is taking too long," Sela ordered.

She would have to execute her plan with the troops she had on hand.

There were two additional ships en route to Lantera that would arrive soon. Sela was confident that someone aboard those ships might be able to decipher her message.

Korenus caught Sela's arm.

"Should we consider planting charges in case-"

He trailed off.

"You know these specs better than anyone here. A few key places," Korenus suggested.

"There is no option but victory," Sela responded.

She checked the power level on her disruptor and slammed it back into place.

"If we don't succeed, we don't have any business returning," Sela declared.

---

Sela's team split off in different directions.

Sela led one of the teams down the left corridor. She cleared the first corner and then silently waved for two officers to proceed ahead.

If Starfleet wouldn't come to Sela then she would take the fight to them.

Lantera was a large outpost. Only about half of that area was accessible given the pockets that were exposed to space.

Even still, Sela doubted Starfleet had the numbers to conduct a level by level sweep.

It had given her team time to properly assemble. She was still missing nearly twenty percent of her full force. Sela suspected they must have been beamed to other parts of the outpost or lost when the shield went up.

Her capture of the rebels was not off to a sparkling start.

Nevertheless, Sela remained confident that they would regain control of Lantera and have plenty of captives to please her father.

She had to believe that.

Sela couldn't dwell on the alternative.

Suddenly, the line came to a halt.

"Why have we stopped?" Sela demanded, pushing past the line of troops toward the front.

The bulkhead was sealed and the Centurion in the point position was talking to an Uhlan.

"This wasn't here before," the Uhlan insisted.

"Maybe you missed one?" the Centurion threw back.

Sela's eyes dropped to the base where the door met the metal floor. One of the Romulan security devices was attached.

"Get a technician up here," the Centurion said, waving forward a specialist that had the tool necessary to deactivate the device.

Sela frowned.

Something about this seemed off but Sela couldn't put her finger on it. Her eyes followed the wire out the end of the device and up and around the frame of the door.

It's not connected. Sela realised.

"I'll have this off in a moment," the technician said as he knelt next to the door.

"No. Stop," Sela ordered suddenly.

---

Will Riker's back had reached the breaking point. He was desperately in need of a stretch.

He set his phaser rifle down and bent over to give his back a break.

Riker turned side to side as he twisted his torso.

"Ah," Riker hissed. "That's it."

He groaned with delight when his back cracked.

Out of nowhere, a loud blast shook the corridor. The sound was close – too close to be the bombardment.

"That was inside," Jeffords said.

"The bulkhead," Riker realised.

Riker grabbed for his phaser.

"Geordi? How much longer before you've got that weapon up and running?" Riker asked.

"I don't know, sir," Geordi answered honestly.

They had only just managed to clear the first major obstacle of power regulation.

"Sir, we don't even know how to turn it on yet or if it has to charge. It could be hours before we get the translations sorted," Geordi went on.

Data's voice rang out from their combadges.

"Sir, we are detecting a heat signature consistent with an explosion from one of the devices."

"Yeah. We felt it," Riker responded.

Riker strained his ears as he listened for any sound of approaching Romulans.

"I hate to rush you, Geordi. But things are about to get hot," Riker warned.

---

"The secondary bulkheads have sealed to preserve the atmosphere and pressurisation."

One of Sela's scouts had returned after checking on the situation.

"I can't see anything," she said. "But I tapped on the bulkhead and got no response."

The line of Sela's mouth thinned.

"We could try sending a search team through the ventilation or a secondary maintenance shaft," the scout suggested. "They span the whole deck. Maybe they aren't yet-"

"The detonation probably exposed that entire area to space. They're all dead," Sela said, cutting her off.

Sela closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Someone's rigged these devices. Altered the command frequency to detonate based on our codes," the Centurion said as he stared down at the device.

Had they tried to deactivate it, they would all be dead now too.

"But how?" the technician asked. "It takes months of training and-"

"The android," Sela hissed.

Sela's expression soured.

"We haven't been able to make contact with the people planted aboard the Enterprise for some time," Sela said.

It certainly explained Starfleet's presence.

"Android?" Korenus asked.

"Starfleet has an android. It's stationed on their flagship, the Enterprise," Sela explained.

"So, they brought a robot to mess with the security here?" Korenus asked.

He didn't quite follow.

"It's not a robot. It's an android," Sela said.

Korenus shrugged.

"Sophisticated artificial intelligence. A threat," Sela clarified.

The android was smarter and stronger than any humanoid and was capable of withstanding extreme environmental conditions. Androids didn't require environmental systems. They could survive dense pressure (or lack thereof), directly interface with computer systems, and interact like they were humans.

Unnatural. Sela thought as her lip curled.

Sela had read enough information on Data to know that his presence posed a problem.

"And an opportunity," Sela added with a smirk.

There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she considered what a prize this situation presented.

"I know that look," Korenus teased.

"We need to establish communication with my ship," Sela said.

If Movar survived, Sela was going to come down on him hard for taking so long to figure out the nature of her transmission.

"Until then, we need to reclaim access to one of the sensor arrays. Start scanning the area for ships," Sela said.

"You think they've got another ship out there?" Korenus asked.

"I think I'm going to find the Enterprise, destroy it, and drag its cracked hull back to Romulus," Sela declared.

She giggled, practically giddy with excitement over the prospect.

"And I'm going to bring my father the greatest gift," Sela went on. "I can ask him for anything. He won't be able to refuse."

Sela felt a surge of confidence.

If she managed to pull it off, her father would give her anything. She wouldn't be forced to give up her command. She wouldn't have to ever see Duras again.

Sela was rambling. Her voice was strange. Faraway. Her thoughts were preoccupied.

The chance to give her father the flagship and dozens of new slaves would buy Sela favour and glory.

Giving him the android would endear Sela to the whole of the Black Eagles movement. They had long wanted to find a way to use Data to undermine Starfleet's reliance on artificial intelligence.

To the Romulans, Data's very existence was an abomination.

And Castillo?

General Morak had long wanted to exact his revenge on the man that had betrayed his trust.

"What do you plan to give him?" Korenus asked. "You really believe your father would do all that just for the flagship?"

He put his hand on her shoulder, jolting Sela out of her musings. She turned to meet his eyes.

"Not the ship," Sela whispered.

---

"Tasha? Tasha?"

It was Data.

"Hmm?" Tasha replied in a hazy voice.

The Iconian life support system in the shuttle had seemed to automatically activate. There was no telling how long it would last, so Tasha and the other others had tried to stay still, silent, and relaxed to slow their breathing.

Two additional Romulan ships had dropped out of warp.

"They have taken up a position and locked disruptor fire on our section," Data said.

"And you're worried about the structural integrity of the hangar," Tasha finished for him.

"Yes," Data answered without hesitation.

It was the weakest point on the outpost. Even with the shields in place, there was little keeping the hangar attached.

Tasha opened her eyes and blinked.

The conversation had suddenly grown far more serious.

"Data? Are we-"

"We are on a secure, single channel," Data said.

It explained why he'd addressed her by name rather than rank.

The bombardment had increased. There was little to now break now between blasts. And it felt like one of the ships had targeted the hangar.

"I just wanted to say that-"

Tasha couldn't help but smile.

"You know the sooner you get back to work Mr Data, the faster you can get us out of here," Tasha said.

For a moment, the line went silent.

"I know you hate goodbyes," Data said.

"Then don't," Tasha replied.

She wasn't ready to say it.

"I also do not want to remember our last conversation as-"

"Then don't," Tasha repeated.

She was teasing Data, hoping to set him at ease and remind him of their natural, comfortable banter. If this was to be their final conversation, that was how Tasha wanted Data to remember her.

"Data, you don't have to say – what the hell?"

Tasha blinked. She had to be seeing things. Low oxygen could mess with the brain. Tasha had thought the environmental systems were functioning. It was possible that her brain was too oxygen starved to realise they weren't.

She turned and waved to catch Worf's attention.

He'd seen it too – though Tasha wasn't sure if that was a relief or more unsettling.

"Tasha?" Data asked.

She didn't answer. Her attention was fixated on the figure before her.

"Tasha, I do not know if your cognitive functioning is failing," Data began to say.

"Data-"

"But I want you to know that I-"

"Data? Shut up," Tasha interjected.

Data was taken aback.

"Data, listen. A Romulan just beamed directly into the hangar," Tasha announced.

---

Data's heart sank.

It was hardly the farewell he'd envisioned. Tasha was obviously already suffering from low oxygen.

Data closed his eyes. For a brief moment, he cut out all extraneous sounds. There were so many things left unsaid, so many ways in which he wanted her to know that she was loved.

In all reality, Data would follow soon enough.

And through all the bombardment and the flurry of activity, one sound managed to rise above the rest.

"Data? Data listen!"

Tasha was practically shouting.

"Data, they're wearing gravity boots. An EV suit," Tasha said.

She wasn't hallucinating.

There was a Romulan in the hangar.

---

Tasha felt a chill as she watched two more Romulans beam in beside the first.

"Data, I think this was a test," Tasha said.

The shield was still in place – Data had confirmed with Mr Barclay.

"They must have a way through," Tasha said.

She watched in horror as the Romulans slowly made their way toward the console.

"Data, I think they're going to try and repressurise the hangar," Tasha warned. "They could send in a repair team and fix the hull damage in this section."

"Which would give them unrestricted access to the Operations Centre," Data realised aloud.

It would render all of Data's reprogrammed security devices useless. They didn't have the numbers to repel a direct attack – especially if the Romulans had figured out a way to beam through the shield.

"Tasha, they cannot be allowed to use the hangar as a staging point," Data said.

Tasha glanced down at the Iconian controls. She had previously identified most of the basic aviation controls and sensors.

"I have an idea. But I don't think you're going to like it," Tasha said.

Before Data could react, Tasha opened a wider channel to communicate with the other remaining members of her team in the hangar.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Tasha asked.

"Yes," Worf grumbled in response.

He'd watched them beam in too and had reached the same conclusion.

"As soon as I fire, this hangar is gonna go," Tasha warned.

"Understood," Jae responded.

She was a skilled pilot and had training in small craft.

"Finally!" Worf said.

He was relieved at the chance to do something. Anything.

"Courtenay? Are you okay to fly?" Tasha asked.

Courtenay was a trained Security specialist. She had taken basic flight and navigation courses during her training at the Academy.

But she didn't have the same pilot experience as the rest of the team.

And they were flying completely foreign spacecraft.

"You don't need to do any fancy flying. You've got your basic instruments. They aren't all that different from a shuttle, alright?" Tasha said.

Speed, navigational sensors, the control yoke – every officer with basic flight training could manage that.

Courtenay flashed Tasha a confident thumbs up.

"I'm powering the primary engine core," Tasha said.

Data held his breath.

It had been more than ten thousand years since those attack fighters had last seen action.

Tasha rested her hand on the edge of the helm.

"Alright old girl, let's see what you're made of," Tasha said.

She was talking to the ship, a habit Tasha had carried with her ever since her time on the Dunkirk.

"Tasha?" Data said.

"I'm here. Just bringing the weapons online," Tasha said.

She was going to start with the disruptor cannons mounted on the fixed wings. If she was reading the console correctly, it looked like this fighter still carried a payload of several powerful Iconian drones.

But Tasha was hesitant to fire one in such close proximity to the outpost itself.

"Good luck," Data said.

"Locked on target," Tasha replied.

She pressed her thumb to activate the disruptor cannon.

For several stunned seconds, Tasha watched in awe as it hit the Romulan intruders and tore right through the remaining structural hull of the hangar.

Tasha braced for the worst as the hangar started to rip away from the main structure of the outpost.

As the hunks of metallic alloy and unmanned ships started to drift away, Tasha got a clear picture of the scene overhead.

There were three massive Romulan D'deridex cruisers and an endless stream of green disruptor fire chipping away at the amber glow of the Iconian shield that was protecting Lantera.

It was the only thing standing between them and the Romulans.

Tasha was momentarily stunned by the sight. The D'deridex cruisers were new. The first time she'd seen one was during their encounter with the Romulan ship near the Neutral Zone more than a year earlier.

Seeing three of them together was a chilling sight.

They were big enough to house thousands of troops and carried a powerful weapons array. Limited intelligence leaked out from the Empire.

Tasha had poured over every available report on the D'deridex cruisers. They were the most advanced upgrade in heavy cruiser technology in the last forty years.

And the Romulans had an armada of them.

Tasha was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that it took her a minute to realise Data was trying to get her attention.

"Sorry, we're okay. The ships are holding," Tasha responded. "In fact, they seem almost intuitive."

Data had to stop his neural net from going off onto an unrelated spiral of theories.

The more Tasha tested the controls, the more they seemed almost completely sympatico with her thoughts.

"We could use this. These drones are supposed to be very powerful," Tasha said.

"Let's take the fight to them," Worf chimed in.

He was frustrated by waiting around and sick of the Romulans being one step ahead of them.

Lieutenant Jae wiggled her eyebrows.

"I've got half a reserve of drones in this tank," she informed them.

"Worf has a point. We're getting our arses kicked. It's time to go all in," Tasha said.

Data was hesitant. But he could see the logic in their suggestion. Sitting and waiting wasn't doing any good. There was no telling how powerful the drones might be, and they could possibly take out one or more to the ships.

"We do not know if the ships will be able to pass through the shield," Data warned.

"Worth a try though, right? The Romulans have found a way through," Worf pointed out.

There was a brief pause.

"Fly safe," Data answered.

"That's not in my vocabulary," Tasha replied with a smirk as she brought the secondary weapons array online.

All systems were a go.

"Alright. Let's see what these drones can do. Stay tight. Stick in formation. We're going to make a pass at the belly of that central ship," Tasha ordered.

---

Seven hours into the deluge and everyone was on edge.

Geordi could barely get one task started before his tools were strewn across the floor by the next wave of bombardment.

Geordi was accustomed to working under tense conditions. He'd survived a number of near-fatal catastrophes during his time as an engineer.

He'd reassembled warp coils and completed complex bypasses under fire. Geordi had once written a complicated subroutine to power the aft shield grid during a firefight with a squadron of Cardassian warships.

But these conditions were damn near unbearable.

The only thing that made his job tolerable was knowing what was at stake.

Well, that and Sonya's surprising ability to adapt.

After the initial shock of shooting a Romulan, Sonya had really come around. She was like an eel – unbothered by each new passing wave, slipping in and out and where needed, and popping up in the most unexpected of places with just the right tool.

"Have you seen the-"

Geordi stopped as the hyperspanner appeared in front of his face.

"Thanks," he said.

For Sonya, this wasn't just about saving the Federation from the Romulans. She had a very real, very personal reason for working so hard.

Her cousin Luis was one of the Security officers currently defending the Operations Centre at the top of the outpost.

They were outnumbered. The odds of survival were slim.

Sonya had to keep the power cell running and help Geordi decipher the ancient Iconian weapon in order to ensure Luis didn't die for nothing.

Sonya only caught snippets of the radio chatter. She couldn't focus on it too much or she would get distracted.

But there was one voice she was listening for.

And it had been far too long since she'd heard it.

---

Disruptor fire echoed from the corridor.

It was growing closer.

Richard Castillo picked up his phaser rifle and marched toward the entrance.

"I'm going to help," he said.

"Lieutenant, I need you to help Counsellor Troi with the translation," Data said.

No one knew Lantera better than Verax and Castillo. At this point, they were all that was left to aid the Enterprise crew in bringing the weapon online.

With Deanna's knack for languages and the expertise of Verax and Castillo, the team had managed to make some real progress.

But the team was still hours away from being able to bring the weapon online.

Around the outpost, the Security team was fighting hard to buy them that time.

And Richard Castillo was desperate to join the fight.

"I hate standing around here when the rest of them are out there," Castillo said under his breath to Verax. "I feel like an old man."

"You are an old man," Verax replied.

"I still know how to use a phaser rifle," Castillo threw back.

He wasn't offended. This was all just part of their usual banter.

"I know that. But right now we need your brain," Verax said.

Verax heaved a melodramatic sigh.

"Divines help us all," he quipped.

Richard threw back his head and laughed.

---

Tasha and the flight team were able to make good use of the shield. There must have been some sort of Iconian sensor ability that could detect they weren't a threat.

The small attack fighters were able to slip beyond the shield and back without sustaining any damage. Several small Romulan Snakehead ships had tried to follow only to be cut to shreds but the powerful Iconian force field.

It allowed the flight team to launch a few spontaneous guerilla style attacks before retreating to safety.

It wasn't much, but it kept the Romulan occupied.

The Iconian drones were powerful enough to cause some significant damage to the Romulan cruisers. With enough of them, they might be able to chip away at the shields on one of the D'deridex cruisers.

Unfortunately, their supply was limited.

Data had ordered the team back the safety of the shield with strict orders to hold off on engaging the Romulans.

At the moment, these attack fighters were their only line of defence outside of the outpost. It was possible they may need them later to protect the power cell if the shield failed.

---

By midnight, the bombardment had become second nature.

Tasha and her team were sitting tight at an all-stop around the power cell. They felt just as trapped as they had in the hangar.

Geordi and Sonya had continued their work down in the Engineering section. They had managed to bypass two of the Iconian security measures to access the computer system for the weapon.

Data was helping Geordi write a subroutine to enable their diagnostic tool to interface with the Iconian tactical matrix.

But Data had his hands full.

They were facing attacks from the Romulans on three fronts. While the cruisers outside chipped away the shield, the Romulans on the outpost only seemed to grow in numbers.

Commander Riker was holding his own with a team outside of Engineering. Thus far they had managed to repel the attacks.

Their position wasn't sustainable.

Things were worse in the corridors around the Operations Centre.

The team above was engaged in a fighting withdrawal. Bulkhead to bulkhead they held their positions as long as they could before the threat of being overrun was too great.

Three more officers had been killed and Beverly didn't think Ensign N'reven would survive the disruptor blast that had sent the young Vulcan into the hull with such force it caused severe trauma.

N'reven's cerebral haemorrhage would prove fatal before dawn.

"Data, there's nothing more I can do for her here," Beverly said darkly.

She packed up her medical kit with a grim sense of defeat. When she turned to Data, Beverly looked more tired than he could ever recall seeing before.

All of the vibrant energy she usually radiated had faded and was replaced with a hardened exterior Beverly usually didn't display.

"Let me join the defence team, Data," Beverly pleaded.

"Doctor, if we-"

"There is nothing more I can do here," Beverly insisted. "I can't treat these injuries more than basic field triage."

A few metres away, Lieutenant Oliver Adams shared her sentiment.

"Sir, we've done all we can," Adams pressed. "Nurse Ogawa is more than capable of handling this."

Alyssa was prepared and ready.

"We're more use to you out there. Hell, I can do more for my patients out there," Beverly urged.

With a heavy heart, Data nodded.

"Thank you," Beverly said, offering his arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Data turned back to the team.

"Mr Barclay?" he prompted.

"The shield is still holding, but the constant bombardment has started to chip at the integrity. At this rate, it will be completely drained in approximately… well, hours. Hours, sir," Barclay reported.

From her position nearby, Deanna scowled.

"I thought you estimated that the Iconian shield strength would last for-"

Deanna paused. She was having a difficult time wrapping her head around it.

"It's lasted for centuries!" she exclaimed.

"But not under constant bombardment," Data explained. "It was never meant to endure such a sustained attack without replenishing the charge."

In the time since the onslaught of the first attack, they had learned much about the Iconian defence system.

The shield itself was not directly powered by the power cell. It was far too powerful and would overload the shield if there was a direct interface.

Instead, the shield operated like the weapon. The main power cell charged an external system that was capable of sustained usage.

Early estimates showed that it took days for that secondary system to charge. And just like the weapon, they had no way to bring it online.

Under normal circumstances, Data would have assigned a team to find a way to interface their own system. But the weapon was the priority. In any case, he didn't have enough people.

"Somehow the Romulans continue to beam aboard new troops," Data said.

"I can't figure it out," Miles O'Brien replied with a shrug. "I dunno. It's like they're getting right through the shield."

Miles had a million theories – and no time to explore any of them.

"They may have some intel or device that allows them passage. They have had a lot more time to study this than we have," Miles pointed out.

"Keep working at it, Chief," Data instructed.

All Data had done for the last few hours was run on the same schedule. He helped where he could with individual tasks, assisted Geordi via radio contact, and ran a constant check on each of the teams scattered throughout the outpost.

For years, Data had been told that he was due a command of his own. Many of his colleagues praised his composure and skill.

Data had been in command before during situations.

But after today he was determined that Starfleet could keep it. He didn't want a command of his own. That wasn't just because he lacked the same ambition as someone like Commander Riker.

Data would take the worst possible research assignment any day over the burden of ordering friends to rush into harm's way.

The exchange of fire erupted in the corridor near the Operations Centre.

"We have to fall back!" Logan's voice rang out from the communications system.

"Go! I'll cover you!"

It was Luis Cevallos.

Both Data and Miles recognised the sound of cover fire as the team fell back to the next bulkhead.

"Sir, there's only two bulkheads left standing between the Romulans and this room," Miles said.

Data had always known it would come to this. The final plan was always to seal the final bulkhead as a last resort. It would mean stranding the teams in the corridors around the Operations Centre.

"Chief?" Data asked.

He frowned as he watched Miles roll up the sleeves on his uniform.

"Tell Keiko… nah. It would only be bad luck. In any case, she knows," Miles said as he picked up a phaser rifle.

Chief O'Brien was the next logical choice to go. He had practical experience from his time on the front during the early days of the Border War.

"Chief? Where are you going?" Data demanded.

"You're going to have to seal this bulkhead behind me," Miles said without stopping.

Data resumed his position at the main Operations console. He twitched his head to the left in an attempt to suppress the overwhelming weight of anxiety that filled his mind.

---

"It's about damn time," Sela said.

A familiar shimmering noise filled the air as the next batch of troops materialised to replenish her dwindling numbers.

Because of the need to beam troops through the gaps in the shield, the timing had to be precise. That meant Movar could only beam over a handful of troops every thirteen minutes.

And because Sela kept throwing her troops at Starfleet's defence points like they were disposable, she wasn't building much of a bench to pull from.

The Romulans had also discovered they could use their own communications system to send suppressed digital messages out during those gaps.

"Transmit this back to Movar. I want a disruptor cannon beamed down in the next wave," Sela ordered.

Korenus was stunned.

"Commander, won't a disruptor cannon pierce the hull?" he asked.

Sela chuckled.

"I don't intend to fire it. I intend to display it and watch them run like rats," Sela declared.

---

Will Riker heard his combadge ping above the steady sound of weapons' fire.

The pattern was almost predictable. The Romulans would fire and try to advance. Will and his team would return that fire and hold them off – dropping a few – until a new batch of Romulans appeared fresh for the slaughter.

Nearly all of the casualties had been Romulans because of their relentless charge to try and overtake Riker's position.

And they just kept coming.

"Sir! Sir, they're beaming in heavy artillery."

Riker had dispatched Ensign Jeffords to do a little scouting.

"Get back here. We're going to need everyone," Riker ordered.

It wasn't a moment too soon.

Not long after Jeffords arrived, a team of Romulans started to assemble a disruptor cannon. It was aimed directly at Riker's team where they had taken up a position on opposite sides of alcove.

"They're not really going to fire that in here are they?" Jeffords asked.

"I don't know," Riker answered honestly.

He glanced around the corner and scowled.

"They keep sending wave after wave right into our line of fire to exhaust us. At this point, I wouldn't put anything past them," Riker said.

"Surrender now and your deaths will be quick."

Why does that voice sound familiar? Riker thought.

Unable to squash his curiosity, Riker risked another glance around the corner.

It was hazy from the all the damage. Someone had shot out one of the environmental tube casings and a thick, acrid smoke from the environmental coolant system was pouring into the corridor.

But there in the midst of the fallen bodies and fog of battle, Riker spied a familiar figure.

"This is your last chance. Surrender now and I promise you a quick death."

Riker blinked in disbelief.

She had the same stature. The cool demeanour and tenor of her voice was familiar.

The blonde hair.

It stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd of Romulan officers.

Even the way this woman folded her arms and sighed was all too striking for Will's comfort.

He fell back against the wall and shook his head in disbelief.

It couldn't be.

Will Riker told himself that he was suffering from battle fatigue. He'd been on his feet and in the thick of it for hours. The anxiety of waiting had coupled with the overwhelming sense of dread from this mission.

There was no possible way Tasha Yar could be standing in the midst of the Romulan force.

And yet…

Riker could have sworn that he'd seen her back on the Romulan communications outpost months earlier too.

At that time, he'd written off the encounter as mental fatigue following the incident with the prototype suits. He had been dehydrated and suffering from effects of sharing his body with nanoscopic parasites.

---

Sela had grown impatient.

"I don't like having to repeat myself," she said, raising her voice ever so slightly.

There was a twinge of annoyance as she snapped her fingers at Korenus.

"Take over here," she ordered. "I'm going to check on the status of our reserves."

Without another word, Sela swept her cape up and stepped over the body of a fallen Romulan. She slipped in the shadows and disappeared.

---

Will Riker steeled himself for the worst.

He practically jumped in place as he took a quick glance back around the corridor.

Riker fell back against the wall and pressed his body tight there to make himself as small as possible.

Then he looked again.

She was not there.

The woman that he could have sworn was Tasha Yar was, in fact, an imposing Romulan man. Will Riker was neither comforted nor thrilled by this.

On the one hand, he was relieved not to find Tasha standing there. At the same time, he feared he was really starting to lose it.

He reached up and rubbed his eyes. Riker tried not to think about how many hours it had last been since he'd had a hot cup of coffee or gone to the loo.

"Sir?" Ensign Jeffords asked.

"I'm fine," Riker lied.

---

Shortly before dawn, the first real cracks in the shield matrix began to appear.

The Romulans had sent more than hundred attack fighters in a single kamikaze run directly at the shield.

From his position in the Operations Centre, Data had watched in horror as the amber glow of the shield blazed in a brilliant, ominous red as they hit.

The resulting impact had dropped the shields down to thirty-two percent.

If bombardment continued, the whole thing would be over in a matter of hours.

And when it rains.

The failing shield strength meant that it no longer had the ability to fully repel the Romulan attacks either. It meant the Lantera Outpost was now bearing the brunt of each blast.

Tasha and her team were having a helluva time trying to keep additional attack fighters at bay. They were locked in a dogfight and outnumbered as the Romulans sought to break through at a weak point near the base of the cell that housed the shield's power.

---

Reg Barclay flinched as a falling wire sparked and sizzled just over his shoulder.

He gripped the console in front of him to stay upright as another powerful blast wave rippled out from the bow of a Romulan D'deridex class cruiser.

A heavy structural beam collapsed right on top of Lieutenant Branson. He was crushed and killed in an instant.

Reg wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and walk himself through the breathing exercises he learned in therapy.

Only he couldn't.

He was like a machine, operating with one singular focus as he worked to keep the shields in place.

The bombardment had lasted so long and was so continuous that it had become almost like clockwork as the Romulan forces chipped away at the shield.

Were he not occupied, Reg might have considered that he was a knight holed up in an ancient castle under siege.

And under siege they were.

Thick, acrid smoke choked the breathable air and made it difficult to see. There was a heavy thud as someone stumbled over a hunk of fallen debris.

"Brace!" Data ordered.

Everyone clutched the nearest solid object as disruptor fire rocked the Bridge.

Crewman D'escor lost her grip and tumbled into the wall with a sickening thump. She groaned and clutched her arm as she tried to get up – only to be thrown across the floor once again.

Data dashed out. He quite literally leapt into position, using his body to stop her from rolling off the edge of the platform on the Bridge.

It was at least a twenty metre drop.

"Thanks," she said, still reeling from being tossed about.

"Are you able to resume your station?" Data inquired.

He didn't mean to be harsh, but every second counted.

"I'll do my best, sir," she answered.

Data hauled D'escor to her feet and she stumbled off to take up her post for the next barrage.

---

Will Riker dropped back behind the corner. He pressed his body against the wall, clutching his phaser rifle as a hail of disruptor fire whizzed past.

He was waiting for a gap in the fire.

Catching the eye of Ensign Jeffords, they shared a quick nod.

As soon as the opportunity presented itself, they returned fire.

It wasn't enough to stop the onslaught of the advancing Romulan troops. Somehow they had managed a nonstop replenishment of fresh troops.

Each time they felled a line of Romulans, there was a fresh group of replacements ready to take their place.

It was a fighting withdrawal, corridor to corridor, as Will Riker and his team tried to buy the engineering team enough time to complete their mission.

"We have to fall back!" Lieutenant Solis shouted.

The Romulans were closing in. They were dangerously close to being overrun.

"Belay that order! Hold your position," Riker ordered.

---

Data tapped his combadge.

"Flight team? Status?"

There was a brief blast of static. The shield strength interfered with radio chatter.

"A little busy at the moment," Tasha replied.

Tasha, Worf, and a small team were doing their best to hold their own in a series of small attack fighters they had discovered on Lantera.

With skills honed during the height of the Border Wars, Tasha and Worf made for a formidable team.

Still – they were just a handful of ships against three Romulan ships and a swarm of the more manoeuvrable Romulan Snakehead fighters.

But at the moment, they had bigger fish to fry. A Romulan Viper-class attack vessel was closing in on their position. It had a weapons lock on both fighters.

Worf and Tasha turned into a defensive split, forcing the Viper-class attack vessel to choose between them when something caught Tasha's eye.

From her vantage point, Tasha scowled as she glanced down at the Romulan ships that had them surrounded.

"Worf? Are you seeing this?" Tasha asked.

"Seeing. Still working on believing," Worf answered.

He couldn't tell what they were up to.

"I don't like it," Worf said.

"You and me both."

Tasha's tone was upbeat as her reply came across the comms channel. But Worf could sense the trepidation in her voice.

"Commander?"

Tasha's hail cut across the static.

"Commander, the Romulan cruisers appear to be moving into some sort of formation," Tasha reported. "I'm going to swing around and take a look."

Data tapped the button on the comms system.

"Negative. Fall back and protect the power cell," Data ordered.

He couldn't be sure his hail had gone out.

Over at one of the terminals, Reginald Barclay blanched.

"Sir, I'm detecting-"

He was cut off by an urgent hail from Geordi.

"Data, we're reading a massive power buildup from the Romulan ships. Tell me you have good news?" Geordi pressed.

Data looked over to Verax.

"That is really all in how you look at it," Verax answered.

Data quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"Well, one more hit and we're done for," Verax said.

Data frowned.

"How is that good news?" Data asked bluntly.

"One more hit and we're done. Believe me, there won't be anything left for them to recover," Verax said in typical Romulan fashion.

Lieutenant Barclay found the courage to interrupt.

"They're a-a-aiming at the power core," Reg announced.

Data couldn't actually see Geordi's reaction. Geordi was seventeen decks down below Data's position. Still, Data could just picture Geordi scratching the back of his neck.

He could hear the sense of defeat in his voice.

"The orbital satellite defensive drones are done for. We've got nothing left in the arsenal to run interference," Geordi warned.

No one had said it aloud, but they all knew the Romulans were preparing to concentrate their fire. The Romulans had been reluctant to cause too much damage during the siege.

They did not want to destroy Lantera. Their goal was to merely prevent the Enterprise team from accessing the weapon.

Outside, Data could hear the disruptor fire was growing closer. Romulan troops had already passed through two of the bulkheads.

There was only one left and a limited Security force standing between them and the Bridge. Data had ordered the majority of the defenders to protect Geordi and the engineering team down on the lower level.

"Flight? Can you intervene?" Data inquired.

Their response was choppy, cut up by the interference from the shield.

"Command this is…. flight…."

And then Data heard the words he needed to in order to understand their position.

"Flight one… depleted."

"Two empty."

Data quickly calculated how to solve this crisis in a day that had been one unexpected emergency after another.

They could not reroute power from any system. They were already running life support at dangerously low levels.

Simply put, there was no vein left to tap.

All of the portable Federation-designed power generators they had brought along were in use, depleted, or destroyed.

The communications system crackled as another message came through.

"Same material… they're the same material?"

"Say again?" Data requested.

He couldn't be certain, but it sounded like Tasha was asking a question.

"The ship… same constru-"

The channel popped.

"As the drones?" Tasha finished.

Her inquiry had been cut off.

Data didn't need more information – he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"We cannot beam through the shield," Data answered.

Though Data hadn't said yes, his answer was confirmation that her theory was correct.

"Copy," Tasha replied without hesitation.

It was all she could bring herself to say as she set a course to intercept the concentrated disruptor beam.

Tasha took one final look at the stars overhead. A million different thoughts raced through her mind at that moment.

Things that had been. Moments that would never be.

"Lieutenant. Stand down. That's an order!" Data barked.

At the last possible second, Tasha closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and braced for the blast.

---

Data slowly rose from his seat. He visibly staggered as he watched the disruptor beam rip through the attack fighter.

It split in two first.

The subsequent damage caused a series of secondary explosions from the vessel itself.

To everyone else in the Operations Centre, it was over in a split second and there was nothing more than a debris field left.

Because of Data's ability to perceive every millisecond of time, it was like watching the beam cut through the ship and the explosion in slow motion.

Correction, he had watched Tasha's last moments in slow motion.

And he wasn't alone.

Richard Castillo's heart shattered.

He knew he couldn't react. They had a mission to complete and a timeline to preserve. It stung because he would make the heavens stop and weep for her loss if it were in his power.

It wasn't fair. This was the very outcome he'd dreaded. Richard's knees gave out and he nearly collapsed against the console.

Verax gripped Castillo's arm to keep him upright.

Deanna could sense all of it.

Data didn't like to think about the prospect of losing Tasha. Just the thought of it left him with such a sense of emptiness that he could not bear to dwell on it for long.

Nevertheless, there were times his thoughts had drifted to that place. He always envisioned the moment would have elicited the strongest emotional reaction he could imagine.

Data had read extensively about humanoid grief. He had expected tears and anger.

Yet, Data felt none of those emotions.

Is this shock? He pondered.

A darker, more sinister thought crept into the back of Data's mind and took root.

Am I not real enough to feel grief?

He brushed that notion aside as quickly as it came. He would not allow an intrusive thought to cheapen what he shared with Tasha.

What we shared…

Data closed his eyes as it hit.

It finally hit.

In less than 0.0012 seconds, Data realised all of the things they would never do. The dreams that were abandoned.

The memories they would never make.

No more chapters of Zombie Starbase Invasion! or feeding each other from takeaway boxes on the sofa. No next mission or kiss and cuddle before bed. There would be no wedding, no Føroyar, and no family.

Data also realised that he would continue to experience this sense of loss and grief with each passing day – when he woke to find the other half of the bed empty, when he looked at the pipe that was a gift from Tasha, when her birthday would pass without someone to celebrate.

Data had never experienced nausea before. But his neural net was overwhelmed. His core temperature was at risk of overheating.

The sounds and smell of the room threatened to force an expulsion of biofluid from his abdominal cavity.

The acrid taste was already building in the back of Data's throat.

He could hear Reg Barclay was shouting, desperate to get his attention - but Data couldn't process the words.

"Sir! Sir there's another ship! They're charging the concentrated disruptor beam again!" Reg hollered.

"Flight two prepared for sacrifice."

It was Worf's voice.

He had already taken aim to follow Tasha. Even if the other two ships followed, it would only buy them a few minutes of time.

"Data!" Deanna said as she clutched Data's arm.

He locked eyes with Counsellor Troi as another powerful blast rocked the outpost.

Deanna broke eye contact and collapsed against Data. She couldn't stomach it.

---

Tasha Yar landed with a heavy thud on the hard metal floor.

She had hit the floor hard and was in too much pain to move.

Her legs were sore from hours spent cooped up in the cockpit of the Iconian attack fighter. Tasha rolled onto her back and rubbed the tip of her elbow. It had taken the brunt of her landing.

"Are you injured?"

"No," Tasha replied in a slow groan of pain.

"Good. Get your arse onto one of the rail gun stations. I need every available body."

A familiar arm was extended above. It was long, lean, and blue.

Tasha Yar flashed Captain Rixx a brilliant smile.

"Gods, am I glad to see you," she said.

"Welcome to the USS Thomas Paine," Rixx said.