“Dead,” she replied coldly, gripping her phaser hard. “And now really isn’t the best time to discuss it, Corey.”

“Admiral,” Riker said, happy to interrupt. “Since you managed to get in here, I’m assuming you also have a way of getting everyone out.”

“Right, Commander.” To Hawk, she said, “ Lieutenant, signal Captain Picard. Tell him we’ve got ten to beam up.”

Hawk nodded. Tapping his combadge, he said, “Away team to Kepler.”

Riker was relieved to learn that Zweller’s gambit had paid off. The captain had indeed brought a shuttlecraft into transporter range for a lightning rescue. Riker smiled at Troi, who grinned back, evidently thinking similar thoughts.

Then Riker looked again toward Hawk and realized that something wasn’t right. The lieutenant was repeatedly tapping his combadge, which issued a burst of static before going silent.

Hawk’s eyes locked with Riker’s. “I can’t raise the Kepler.”

Riker told himself that the shuttle’s transmitter might simply have run afoul of the local weather patterns. But he knew that the combadge’s silence might also indicate that something far more serious had happened. He felt a deep chill spreading in his gut.

“Damn!” Batanides said. “Keep trying. And let’s find someplace to hide. The last thing we need now is to get captured by the Chiarosans. Or the Romulans.”

“Admiral,” Riker said. “Maybe the Romulans are exactly what we need.”

Batanides seemed to grasp his meaning. “What’s your plan, Commander?”

Hawk thought that the Chiarosans looked intimidating even when sprawled unconscious on the floor. He tried to ignore them as he adjusted his tricorder to scan for Romulan biosignatures. While Hawk worked, the admiral quickly brought Riker, Troi, and Commander Roget upto‑date, including some of the details surrounding Ambassador Tabor’s death, Captain Picard’s rescue mission, and the discovery of a Romulan cloaking field some five AUs south of the Chiaros system’s orbital plane.

When Hawk idly mentioned that the energy field the Enterprisehad encountered might have been partly responsible for the Slayton’s destruction, a collective gasp went up among five of the bedraggled former hostages. Zweller, however, stood apart from his crewmates, stony‑faced. Hawk wondered: Had the Section 31 agent known all along about theSlayton ’s fate?

“Oh, my God,” Troi said, her dark eyes moistening as she appraised Zweller’s colleagues. “No one’s told them.” Hawk’s tricorder nearly slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers when he realized what a bombshell he had dropped on these already‑shaken people.

Admiral Batanides interrupted Hawk’s unpleasant train of thought. “Are any more troops coming, Lieutenant?”

Hawk forced himself to concentrate on the business at hand. He raised the tricorder again, watching as its indicators moved slowly across the readout panel. “No, sir,” he said. “But there are definitely Romulan lifesigns here. It’s hard to tell, scanning through all this rock, but there may be as many as half a dozen of them in various parts of the complex.”

“Scan for tetryon particles,” Riker said. Without hesitation, Hawk again adjusted the tricorder and resumed scanning.

“What good will thatdo?” barked Gomp.

“Romulan ships are powered by quantum singularities,” Riker explained patiently, “that usually give off tetryon particles as a by‑product.”

“Got it,” Hawk said, smiling triumphantly–the tricorder had indeed picked up the fingerprint of a Romulan quantum singularity drive. “And it’s located exactly where Commander Zweller’s message said the spacecraft hangars would be.”

Hawk noticed then that all eyes were upon Commander Riker, who clutched a Chiarosan pistol in his right hand. Acutely aware that they were looking to him to tell them their next move, Riker turned a questioning look on the admiral. Batanides gave him a quick nod, effectively transferring command of the mission to him.

“Mr. Zweller, you’ll lead us to the hangar,” Riker began. “Deanna, I want you to keep trying to raise the Kepler.Mr. Roget, I’d like your people to bring Grelun along with us. Lieutenant Hawk will assist you.”

As the counselor tried without success to contact the shuttlecraft, Hawk stowed the tricorder and walked toward the Chiarosan leader’s supine form. Unconsciousness did little to soften Grelun’s fierce visage; it occurred to Hawk that it would be very bad if he were to awaken unexpectedly. He began helping two of Roget’s officers half‑carry and half‑drag the man, whose dead weight was akin to that of a small tree. The intensity of this planet’s gravitational field wasn’t making matters any easier.

As he strained, Hawk heard Troi raise an objection. “So now it’s ourturn to start taking hostages?”

“I prefer to think of him as a shield, Deanna,” Riker temporized as the group began moving. “The Chiarosans might not fire on us while their leader’s in harm’s way.”

Zweller shrugged and looked over his shoulder at Riker as he led the group along. “Then again, they might not let that stop them. They’re desperate people, Commander.”

And so are we,Hawk thought, his back and shoulder muscles afire as he continued to help move the insensate Chiarosan.

The three Romulan officers wasted no time confiscating Crusher’s phaser and combadge. Crusher understood, too late, that she must have locked the Kepler’s transporter onto the engine room of a Romulan ship located somewhere within the Chiarosan rebel base. Romulan warp cores, after all, were known to scatter tetryon particles. In her haste, the “shadow” in the tetryon field, which had probably been created by the shielding of the warp core itself, must have looked like a safe refuge. But that knowledge could do her little good now.

As the seconds slowly ticked by, Crusher’s apprehension grew. Where is Jean‑Luc?

The female Romulan, who appeared to be in charge, herded the doctor into the corner of the room farthest from the warp core. The woman spoke tersely into a small communication device attached to her uniform.

“Centurion, this is T’Lei from the technical group. We have captured and disarmed a lone Starfleet officer in our engine room. I presume she is here to try to hijack our vessel.”

“Detain her,” replied a harried‑sounding male voice. Crusher heard some sort of commotion going on in the background. The two male Romulan technicians, who had clearly heard the noises as well, looked nervously at one another.

But T’Lei never took her eyes off Crusher, and the weapon in the Romulan woman’s hand never wavered.

“Centurion?” T’Lei said, tapping the transmitter on her tunic.

A moment later, the voice replied: “We have just been advised that the Starfleet prisoners have escaped. They have captured Grelun and are taking him in your direction. If they wish to leave the planet, they will have no choice other than to take your ship.”

Crusher felt a surge of hope rise within her. But she didn’t dare move.

“Surely Grelun’s troops will neutralize them before they can attempt it,” T’Lei said.

“No. They will stand down, to ensure their leader’s safety. You and your men can better handle this situation using stealth. There are only ten escapees, after all. Expect them to arrive momentarily.”

Crusher’s heart abruptly sank. They’re going to walk right into an ambush.

“Understood, Centurion,” T’Lei said, signing off. The male technicians raised disruptor pistols of their own.

Wearing a viper’s smile, T’Lei spoke directly to Crusher. “The ship’s hatch is narrow, Human. Your friends must enter it single‑file.

“Rest assured, we will be ready for them.”

Jean‑Luc, where the hell are you?

* * *

A moment after the Kepler’s instrument panel went dark, the emergency lighting kicked in, coloring the cockpit a dull red. Picard silently thanked whatever capricious fortune continued to keep the shuttle’s structural integrity field functioning, though he knew it soon wouldn’t matter. The two remaining Chiarosan fighter craft were still closing in, and he didn’t even know for sure how close to the ground the shuttle had plunged.