The USS Thunderchild dropped from warp at the edge of the Paldor System, the stars elongating into a sea of motion before settling into stillness. Ahead loomed the gas giant. An immense planet, burning and alive with storms. Great scarlet bands curled around its girth, glinting with veins of lightning that licked across the atmosphere like molten gold.

Captain Rynar Jast leaned forward in the command chair, the storm light flickering across his features. “Report.”

Lieutenant Commander M’Ryn’s voice came steady, with a slight hiss from the misting of her respirator. “Orbital telemetry coming online, reading multiple orbital installations. Refinery complexes, transmission buoys, and tethered atmospheric collectors. Several small cargo vessels are between the gas giant and the second moon, which appears to be inhabited. Several of the refinery stations are damaged, and there is disruptor scoring across the superstructures.”

At OPS, Lieutenant T’Rell frowned. “Power fluctuations across three stations, looks like core damage.”

“Disruptors?” Commander Zuri Velar asked from the first officer’s chair to Jast’s right.

“Klingon in origin, consistent with type-6 disruptor cannons.” Lieutenant Commander Taryn Vok confirmed from the tactical station.

Velar’s gaze darted to Jast as Vok continued his assessment.

“I’m detecting a Klingon signature in orbit of one of the refinery complexes; must have been some interference from the gas giant that we didn’t see it sooner. Transponder ID reads as the IKS Mavek’du, Vor’cha-class.”

Jast’s brow furrowed. “I wasn’t aware there were any other vessels assigned to this sector.”

Velar shook her head as she confirmed the deployment information on her PADD. “No record of authorization from the joint exploratory command. That ship isn’t on the roster.”

Jast stood, adjusting his uniform jacket. “Let’s hear an explanation then, Hail them.”

The channel opened with a brief crackle of static before stabilizing. The image of a large, greying male Klingon dominated the viewscreen. He had one tooth hanging over his bottom lip, like the fang of a Vulcan sehlat. A gold-colored ring hung from the center of his nose, and his scarred face gave the impression that this was a Klingon who had seen many battles. His armor gleamed red-gold under the dim bridge lights of the Mavek’du.

“This is Captain K’Rath of the Klingon Defense Force,” he boomed. “You have entered a secure system. The Secundi have requested Klingon protection.”

Jast clasped his hands behind his back, his tone level and calm. “Captain K’Rath, I am Captain Rynar Jast of the USS Thunderchild. We received a distress call from this system. We were unaware the Empire had any vessels this deep into this sector already, let alone any claims here.”

K’Rath leaned forward, the corner of his mouth curling. “Then your information is out of date, Captain. The Secundi requested our aid when raiders attacked their refineries. Luckily, my vessel was able to drive them off. With a Klingon presence in the system, the Secundi people’s safety is secured.”

“Starfleet appreciates the Empire’s timely assistance,” Jast said evenly. “However, we’re tasked with verifying the welfare of local populations after receiving any request for aid. I would like to speak with the Secundi leadership.”

“That is not necessary,” K”Rath replied, his tone sharpening. “The Paldor System is now under my jurisdiction. I will ensure their well-being.”

Jast’s voice cooled. “Under the Tri-lateral Exploratory Agreement, the Federation and Empire are to maintain cooperative operations in this region. I’m sure you have no objection to transparency between allies.”

For a heartbeat, silence filled the bridge. Then K”Rath’s expression turned predatory. “There is too much interference for transporters this close to Paldor. Take a shuttle and we will meet at Refinery Eight, transmitting coordinates. Be quick about your curiosity, Captain.”

The channel cut.

Velar exhaled through her nose. “Charming.”

Jast’s lips twitched in something between amusement and fatigue. “Prepare an away team. Zh’vhoral, Phar, and I. Have Takahashi meet us in shuttlebay two.  Let’s see if the Secundi share his definition of protection.”

____________________________________

The hum of the T’Ong’s engines was a constant, low growl that vibrated through the deck plating. Lieutenant Vornak adjusted his sensor calibrations, the amber light of the console casting sharp lines across his face. Outside, an asteroid field glittered like frozen sparks against the void.

“Rich in uridium and low-grade dilithium,” he muttered. “The Mining Guild will fight over this one.”

“Let them,” said L’dren from the adjacent console. “They’ll claim the ore, and we’ll get the glory for finding it.” She brushed an errant strand of dark auburn hair from her face; her fingers stained faintly from the grease of earlier repairs.

K’vathra approached, her boots clicking softly on the deck. “We’ve cataloged six fields this week. I  miss action… I crave battle.”

Meklar grunted from Tactical. “Careful what you wish for.”

Then a sharp tone cut through the bridge, an encrypted transmission, faint and intermittent, flickering across their comm array. Vornak frowned. “Klingon origin. Coded at high priority. Source vector… Paldor System.”

K’trok’s voice carried from the command chair, steady and controlled. “Decrypt.”

The message came through fractured, but several words were clear enough. “…Paldor… protection… K’Rath… control established… request confirmation of claim…”

K’trok’s expression darkened. “K’Rath.”

K’vathra’s head tilted slightly. “You know him?”

“A vassal of House Duras,” K’trok said. “A brute who calls himself a warrior. My father was in a great deal of debt to him at one point while trying to curry favor with Toral. He is a petaQ who does business like a Ferengi.”

L’dren turned in her chair. “You think he’s seizing territory?”

“I think,” K’trok said quietly, “he is dishonoring the Empire.”

He rose, his cloak brushing the deck behind him. “Plot a course to Paldor.”

K’vathra hesitated. “Our orders were to survey the Expanse’s border sectors, not interfere with another commander’s affairs.”

“We are Klingon,” K’trok growled, “we will uphold our pacts and the honor of the Empire. If K’Rath enslaves a people while waving our banner, that dishonor is ours as well. We will investigate and report back to command.”

He looked to Kovor. “Engage cloak. Maximum warp.”

The T’Ong turned like a hunting beast, her engines flaring crimson before fading to invisibility.

K’trok remained seated, eyes fixed on the starfield ahead. “If dishonor hides behind a warrior’s banner,” he murmured, “then we will tear that banner down ourselves.”

____________________________________

The airlock of Refinery Eight cycled open with a metallic hiss, pressure equalizing in a rush of humid air. The deck beneath was slick with condensation, the tang of ozone thick in the air. Lightning from Paldor’s atmosphere flashed through the fractured plazglass viewports, strobing shadows across the landing deck.

Captain K’Rath stood waiting, flanked by two Klingon guards in heavy armor. Their disruptor rifles gleamed wetly in the low light.

Beside him, First Overseer Seren Athell bowed deeply, her translucent robes stained with soot and refinery grease. “Welcome, Captain Jast. You honor us. I am First Overseer Seren Athell of the Secundi Consortia.”

Jast inclined his head, polite but formal. “The honor is ours, First Overseer. May I introduce my officers, Chief of Security Lieutenant Shyra Zh’vhoral, and Counselor Vexa Phar.”

K’Rath’s eyes lingered briefly on Zh’vhoral’s Andorian antennae before settling on Jast, a faint smirk tugging at his scarred mouth. “Starfleet travels heavy for a peace mission.”

“We travel prepared,” Jast replied evenly.

K’Rath gestured grandly toward the scorched bulkheads. “As you can see, Captain, the raiders did not fare well.”

“Curious,” Jast said, stepping closer to a melted conduit. “These disruptor impacts… precise, coordinated. Unusual for pirates.”

“Klingon weapons are often stolen,” K’Rath said dismissively. “A lucrative trade.”

Phar interjected. “Our medical teams can assist your wounded, First Overseer.”

“There are none,” Athell said quickly… too quickly. “Thankfully, the Klingons arrived in time.” Her voice trembled, but she hid it behind a smile. Phar noticed one finger on her left hand tapped against her robes. When she caught Phar’s glance on her hand, she blinked quickly twice, almost as if she was trying to send a signal.

Behind them, Secundi technicians worked at bio-luminescent consoles, repairing damaged systems in silence, never looking up. There was an air of nervousness all around them.

Jast’s tone softened. “You have endured much, Overseer. Starfleet thanks you for your courage. If we could verify our sensor records against your logs…”

“You question my word?” K’Rath growled, stepping forward.

Jast met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “I question everything, Captain. It’s how I avoid mistakes.”

The silence hung thick before Athell broke it with a bow. “Please, Captains. We all serve the cause of peace. Our people are not aggressive. It is good to have a strong ally like the Empire to protect us.”

As she spoke, her hand brushed Phar’s, slipping her a small item into her hand. The Counselor’s eyes flicked down for only a moment, just long enough to understand.

“Thank you, Overseer,” Jast said. “We’ll not delay you further.”

K’Rath’s smirk returned. “Do hurry back to your Federation paperwork, Captain. Leave the defense of the Expanse to warriors.”

“Defending life is everyone’s duty,” Jast said mildly, and turned toward the airlock.

The three officers boarded their shuttle in silence. Takahashi quickly took off once the three were settled.

The shuttle’s engines hummed low as it rose from Refinery Eight, slipping through the heavy clouds that swirled like bruises over Paldor’s upper atmosphere. The refinery fell away below, a skeleton of metal and fire against the storm’s pale light.

Jast sat in silence beside Counselor Phar, eyes forward. Commander Zh’vhoral watched the sensors, her antennae twitching with restrained tension. None of them spoke. The silence was heavier than the storm outside.

“Obviously something’s wrong down there,” Zh’vhoral finally said, her tone low but edged.

“Something’s very wrong,” Jast replied. He didn’t look away from the viewport. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Phar hesitated, then reached into the sleeve of her uniform. “Sir,” she said quietly, “First Overseer Athell passed this to me before we departed.”

In her palm gleamed a small crystalline rod, its surface pulsing faintly with inner light.

Jast’s eyes narrowed. “Encrypted data?”

“Possibly. It felt deliberate… urgent.”

He took the crystal carefully, holding it up to the shuttle’s instrument lights. Its glow refracted across his face in soft amber hues. “Then whatever truth the Overseer couldn’t speak aloud may be in here.”

Jast tucked the crystal into a secure pouch on his belt. “He thinks we are weak Starfleet officers, afraid of conflict. We aren’t about to start a war with the Empire over a remote system. We’ll figure out what’s going on and report.”

The shuttle broke through the upper haze, the silhouette of the Thunderchild filling the sky like a sentinel above the storms.

____________________________________

The Thunderchild hung above Paldor’s swirling clouds, the gas giant’s storms reflected across her hull like living flame. Inside, the observation lounge was quiet but tense. The lights had been dimmed, leaving the stormlight beyond the windows to paint restless patterns across the walls.

Captain Jast stood at the center table; the crystalline rod was now locked into a portable data reader. Commander Velar, Lieutenant Commander Vok, and Counselor Phar were gathered around, their faces caught in the pale blue glow of the holographic projection forming in the air between them.

“M’Ryn and T’Rell isolated the encryption patterns; they’ve tied in the UT,” Velar reported.

“Play it,” Jast said.

The hologram flickered, resolving into a sequence of security feeds… grainy, static-filled, but unmistakable. Klingon disruptor fire arced across the screen, cutting through the darkened refinery decks. Secundi workers fled as armored Klingons stormed the platforms. The next image showed K’Rath himself, standing before a line of kneeling Secundi overseers.

“Submit, and the Empire will protect you,” K’Rath’s voice thundered through the room. “Resist, and your stations… your moon… your people will burn.”

The recording shifted, another refinery, more fire, another round of forced oaths. Then static again. The projection froze on the image of a Secundi worker dragged away by Klingon soldiers.

Silence held the room for several seconds. Even the hum of the ship’s systems seemed distant.

“K’Rath’s actions violate every term of the Trilateral Agreement,” Vok said. “This is annexation by force.”

Jast closed the projection, the holographic light fading from his features. He rested his palms on the table, head bowed in thought.

“He’s claiming the system in the name of the Empire,” Velar continued. “Once word reaches Qo’noS, the Empire can deny it was sanctioned, but by then it won’t matter. The Secundi will be jeghpu’wl’, basically enslaved.”

Jast lifted his gaze, eyes steady. “Not while we’re here.”

Vok’s expression hardened. “Captain, we’re more than a match for a Vor’cha-class battlecruiser, and I doubt diplomacy will stop them.”

“Then we use diplomacy until we can’t,” Jast said. “But we’ll do this by the book. Prepare a secure transmission to Starfleet Command, priority one. Include all data recovered from the crystal.”

Velar nodded. “That’ll take time to route through the relay network, and it will likely be badly degraded due to interference from the planet. We would be more successful leaving the system to get word to Framheim about what’s going on here.”

Jast straightened. “For now, we monitor. No weapons locks, no provocations. The Federation came here to bring order and cooperation. We’ll honor that, even if K’Rath won’t.”

Phar studied him for a moment. “You’re thinking ahead.”

“Always,” he said quietly. “Because men like K’Rath never stop at one victory. They test the edges, see what they can take before someone pushes back.”

Outside the viewport, lightning forked across the gas giant’s upper clouds, illuminating the faint silhouette of the Mavek’du drifting above one of the refineries. Its running lights pulsed like the eyes of a predator, watching.