“I trust you see why we needed to tell you this in person, Commander Temar,” Silas said, his voice firm but tense. The dim lighting of the USS Io’s obervation lounge cast deep shadows, highlighting the sharpness of his features as he scrutinized the Romulan’s face, searching for any reaction. Silas felt his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a reminder of the stakes at play.

Temar’s expression remained an unreadable mask, but he inclined his head slightly. “I do, Captain Crowe,” he replied, his words clipped and formal. After a brief pause, he added, “However, we must verify these findings independently. Should our conclusions align, the only course of action is to destroy the Cipeare and all related research data.”

“Out of the question! You can’t do that. We’ve invested and sacrificed too much to have Starfleet meddle in our affairs just because some lizards are envious of our technology!” Arahtih’s voice cut through the air, sharp and heated. Silas glanced at the doctor, noting his clenched fists and blazing eyes.

Temar’s eyes narrowed, his voice a low, controlled hiss. “Mind your tongue, Doctor. You forget your place.”

Arahtih squared his shoulders, his gaze unwavering, the tension between them palpable. Silas could feel the animosity crackling like electricity. “No, Commander, it is you who forgets your place. Your loyalty lies not with Starfleet but with the Romulan people.”

Silas’ stomach tightened, a knot of dread forming. He stepped closer, his voice urgent. “Don’t you see this is bigger than Starfleet or the Free State? For heaven’s sake, the entire universe could suffer if this falls into the wrong hands!” He hoped his words would pierce through their stubbornness.

Arahtih opened his mouth to retort, “And that’s why it must be in Romulan hands. You just want…” Temar’s sharp gesture sileced him, the unspoken accusation hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

Temar’s voice hardened, sharp as a jackal knife. “Doctor, enough. We know what it is to lose our home and fall into disarray. I would never wish that upon others.” His gaze intensified, a flicker of pain crossing his features. “No innocent people will die needlessly on my watch—not Romulan, not from any species.” Silas saw a distant, haunted look in Temar’s eyes, as if he were reliving a past tragedy that still lingered just beneath the surface. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of his words settling heavily in the silence.

“And what of the llhrei’sian and the Seiyya? Did their crews sacrifice their lives in vain, Commander?” Arahtih’s voice was a tight hiss cutting through the silence, his frustration palpable, his fists trembling.

Commander Temar’s eyes narrowed, his voice steady and cold. “Their sacrifice was not in vain, Doctor. They gave their lives to protect our people and uphold our values. We honor their memory by ensuring that no more lives are needlessly lost. Do not forget that.”

Arahtih’s shoulders stiffened, his defiance wavering under Temar’s unwavering gaze. Silas could almost feel the thick tension in the room, the air charged with the weight of unspoken grievances and hard truths.

Silas took a deep breath, stepping forward to bridge the growing chasm between the Romulans. “We all have lost much and sacrificed greatly. But right now, our priority must be preventing further catastrophe. The Cipeare’s potential for destruction is too great to ignore.”

Arahtih shot a glare at Silas but remained silent, the earlier fire in his eyes now a simmering ember.

Temar inclined his head slightly toward Silas. “Captain Crowe is right. We must think beyond our immediate desires and look at the bigger picture. The safety of the universe is at stake.”

Silas felt a flicker of hope. “We need to work together, trust each other. This isn’t just about Romulans or Starfleet. It’s about everyone.” He exhaled slowly, relief mingling with the tension. Who would have thought he’d find an ally in a Tal-Shiar operative?

Lieutenant Jansen’s voice trembled slightly, his eyes wide with anxiety. “If we destroy the Cipeare, it means we’ll be stranded here—on the other side of the galaxy with them.”

Silas turned to him, his voice steady but laced with authority. “Lieutenant, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Voyager faced far worse odds and made it back. Besides, we have other options now, like the Barzan wormhole.”

Jansen’s face tightened with worry, his hands fidgeting nervously. “Yes, but…”

Silas cut him off sharply. “No buts, Lieutenant. This is my decision to make, my burden to carry.”

Jansen muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling over. “Eikel.”

Silas’ eyes blazed as he turned fully to his Chief Engineer. “Lieutenant Jansen, tread carefully and fix that damn translator. I want you in engineering in ten minutes, tops. Now dismissed.”

Jansen’s shoulders slumped as he left the room, the door hissing shut behind him, the sound echoing in the tense silence.

Commander Temar’s expression softened slightly, a rare glimpse of respect. “There may be some Romulan in your heritage yet, Captain Crowe. We will return to the Vihroi. Thank you for trusting us with this information. We will be in contact.” He inclined his head, a gesture of acknowledgment.

Silas nodded, exchanging farewells. As the Romulan delegation exited, he turned to Lieutenant Commander Selene Arden, the only one still lingering.

“Selene, have you had a chance to review Kindle’s data yet?” he asked, urgency in his voice, the intensity of the conversation still settling in his mind.

Selene handed him a PADD, her fingers brushing his briefly, a moment of connection in the midst of chaos. “I did. I believe his assumptions are correct.”

Silas sighed, rubbing his temples, the tension seeping back into his shoulders. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Arden’s voice softened, a note of concern threading through her words. “What do you think will happen now?”

Silas stared at the PADD, the enormity of the situation bearing down on him. “Who knows? Let’s just hope it won’t come to that.”