Stepping through the large doors into the shuttlebay, Fleet Captain Tikva Theodoras was a different person than she had been yesterday. Furrowed brow was gone, curled shoulders straightened and a smile even graced her face once more. And the crew had picked up on it as well. There was more energy in their actions as Tikva passed, everyone seeing their captain once more in a good mood was giving them inspiration that something was going right for once.

“And this is, Stirling?” Tikva asked as Stirling appeared at her side, a padd tucked under one arm and offering her a large travel mug, steaming desperately escaping from a constrained port at the top.

“Hot chocolate, two sugar, white marshmallows only,” he answered. “I figured, ma’am, we could count today as a cheat day.”

“Damn straight,” Tikva answered as she continued across the deck towards the shuttle Waihou as it underwent a final check by the deckhands. A sip of the hot chocolate once retrieved from her yeoman, she continued. “We aren’t taking no for an answer today either. We’re landing at that pad at the Meto Institute and traffic control can just deal with it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stirling answered. “Apologies if I’m out of line, ma’am, but I take it you had a good evening last night?”

“Let’s call this verging on the line, Mr Fightmaster,” she said with a smile. “Suffice to say, however, I’m feeling a lot more like myself.”

“Then I have no doubt we’ll be successful in meeting Doctor Meto today,” Stirling answered. “Doctor Terax is already aboard the Waihou.”

“And the unknowns will be arriving at the edge of the Slow Zone in five hours,” Tikva stated as a way to start a mental clock. “Fly down, deal with whatever shit the Ninth House wants to throw at me, see Meto, get back here, deal with whoever is out there.”

“And then lunch,” Stirling added at the end as he consulted the padd he’d been carrying. “Commander Gantzmann has already requested lunch with you in the Captain’s Mess.”

“Better set my afternoon aside for dealing with the Betazed government as well,” Tikva said just as they closed on the Waihou, a young ensign stepping out of it ahead of them with a nod and a quick confirmation that the shuttle was ready to fly.

“Of course,” Stirling replied. “Planet side or –”

Across the vastness of the shuttlebay, in every compartment of the ship as well, the bosun’s whistle was heard loud and clear, clawing at everyone’s attention. It wasn’t a request to listen, it was a demand. “Captain to the bridge!” came Nathan Kennedy’s voice, using a phrase that was only used in the most dire and immediate of situations.

The young ensign who’d just left the Waihou had Tikva’s mug shoved into his chest, hands clasping around it like he’d been given a particularly sensitive antimatter warhead. As he watched his captain and her yeoman sprint back the way they’d come, he barely avoided being bowled over by the mass of Doctor Terax as the three-legged Edosion came galloping out of the shuttle at great speed, a string of curses echoing behind him.

“What have we got?” Tikva barked out as the turbolift finally arrived at the bridge, disgorging her, Stirling and Terax. The latter two finding spots along the back, out of the way, while Tikva swept down the slight ramp to stand beside her executive officer.

The viewscreen, which had for days and weeks just shown the exact same thing, Betazed and the space around it, was now a tactical plot. Zoomed in on the edge of the subspace anomaly that engulfed the Betazed system, itself delineated by a purple line that barely curved at this level, the plot showed a single orange blip.

Sensors couldn’t identify the ship, but had gleaned a few details about it since it emerged from the Slow Zone. Half as long again as the Tizona, bristling with weapons along its hull that the computer identified as polaron cannons. The ship’s energy curve and emissions immediately disqualified it as Dominion in origin, but that was of little reassurance.

It most certainly wasn’t Starfleet. Or any of the Federation’s allies.

“Just the one ship. Emerged from the Slow Zone and has been sitting there, letting us scan it.” Nathan’s arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes locked on the viewscreen as if staring would produce new information at will.

“Same vector as the rest of the unknowns,” Gabrielle announced from Sciences. “No way those ships are early. This must be a screening element.”

“Or a herald,” Gantzmann said from Tactical, having appeared there from the other side of the bridge. “CIC is processing data now, but I don’t hold much faith in finding a match.”

“Great, just great,” Tikva muttered as she stepped up beside Nathan, mimicking his stance. “Well, my day is ruined. What about yours?” she asked, trying to inject some levity into the situation.

“Oh, same old, same old,” Nathan answered without missing a beat. “Minding my own business when some nosy system-to-system salesman showed up.” He waved a hand at the tactical plot dismissively. “I think we should launch Harpy 2 and get those specialised sensors sweeping along that vector again to make sure this ship is a loner.”

“Do it,” Tikva agreed. “And get the others on standby just in case. All shuttles as well. We might need an improvised fighter wing.”

“Cap, they’ve just started to broadcast an open message.” Samantha Michaels, seated at Ops this time of day, didn’t wait for an order she knew was coming; instead, she just brought up the incoming message on the viewscreen immediately.

The viewscreen blinked from the plot to an alien sitting in a high-backed chair, his surroundings dark and imposing in a clear intimidation stylistic choice. A prominent fin structure dominated the alien’s head, while two large neck ridges dropped from his ears down to his collarbone, curving inwards to meet in the middle. With a peaked nose and chin, he looked like a threatening individual without even speaking.

His uniform, dark browns and darker straps, carried a slew of ornamentation that would make even the greatest Klingon generals baulk. It wasn’t hard to tell them as the awards and decorations they most likely were, symbols of past glories. The imposing nature of the uniform and its sharp awards compounded with the alien’s own looks to further sell intimidation.

“Vaadwaur,” Tikva growled immediately.

“How do you know?” Nathan asked.

“Went on an aborted deployment to the Delta Quadrant once. Ran into a flight of their raiders. Wasn’t exactly impressed by them then and I’m not now.”

“People of Betazed,” the man presently consuming the entire viewscreen said loudly, despite talking to a camera. “Rejoice! For you have been deemed worthy of inclusion in the rebirth of the Vaadwaur Supremacy! No more will you have to suffer the weakness of democracy. No more will you be subject to the whims of a hundred different worlds, wracked with indecision and petty bickering. No more will you suffer the frailty of your now vanquished Federation, for we have excised it from this galaxy in but a single stroke!”

The Vaadwaur officer stopped, smiling at the camera, attempting to come off as charming, fatherly even, but instead looking more like a snake ready to strike. “I am a merciful man. A kind man. I do not wish to subjugate your world, but peacefully integrate your world into our Supremacy. But I will if I have to. That is why I am giving you this opportunity, this wonderful chance that so many other worlds are not receiving.”

His tone changed, going from fatherly to a patient calm. “Lay down your arms. Shut down your orbital defences. Do not resist us when we come for your world. Welcome us as your liberators from the darkness you find yourselves in. Your compliance will grant you a favoured place within our Supremacy and be well rewarded. Your obedience will protect you in this new order. But I warn you, your resistance will earn swift and terrible retribution, the likes of which Betazed has never known.”

He moved closer to the camera, his volume dropped. “For your sake, for the sake of your children and for the sake of all Betazed, surrender peacefully. You cannot resist us, so please, make the correct decision and join us willingly. You have six hours to make your decision.”

The Vaadwaur officer’s face lingered for a moment longer, an attempt made at looking regretful for his threat. And then he simply blinked out of existence, replaced with a beige background with an unfamiliar logo splashed across it and a timer along the bottom, already ticking down.

“So I guess we’re not going to go see that Meto twit?” Terax asked from the back of the bridge, cutting to what was obviously the single most important matter right now.

“No Doctor, we aren’t,” Tikva said as she turned to face the majority of her senior staff. She looked to each of them, studying them before she nodded twice, arriving at her decision. “Samantha, I want you to send a single, one-word response out on subspace for the entire system to read. All frequencies, no encryption of any sort.”

“And that word, ma’am?” the operations deputy asked as she tapped at her console, making preparations to do as she’d been ordered.

“No.”