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He clambered to an upright position, unsheathing his d’k tahg.

Tereth remained on the deck, with a very large chunk of what was once a piece of the ceiling bulkhead now embedded in her back.

She had not been challenging him, she had saved his life at the cost of her own.

He dropped his d’k tahg to the deck.

Had he remained at his post, the shrapnel would not have hit him or Tereth. But because he abandoned his post in a conflict, a superior was dead.

What have I done?

“Vralk, you’re relieved,” Klag said. “I will kill you later. Koxx, take the helm! Bring us around, 241 mark 6. Rodek—full weapons!”

Turning toward the turbolift, his d’k tahg still on the deck, Vralk thought, I suppose now he has to use deadly force. If he had done it sooner, Tereth might not be dead now.

And if I had not been such a fool, she would not be dead, either.

Aidulac checked the readings on her scanner. She had less than an hour’s walk to where Malkus was keeping himself. And then—one way or another—it would all be over.

This was parkland now. Aidulac had never been to this world when it was part of the Zalkat Union, nor in the millennia since, so she had no idea what it might have been like then. Probably some backwater—otherwise, why hide the Instrument away here?

She hadn’t expected to be tackled by a crazed Klingon in military garb.

The Klingon knocked her to the ground, knelt down on her chest, then swiped at her face with some kind of edged weapon. Aidulac raised her arm to defend herself, and the blade sank into her forearm. She cried out in pain as the Klingon yanked the blade out and started to take another swipe.

Before he could, a hand gripped the Klingon’s shoulder, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Another Klingon, this one wearing a floor-length coat that, from what Aidulac knew of Klingon traditions, meant he held some kind of high office, rolled Aidulac’s attacker off her. “Thank you,” she said. “I wasn’t aware of any Klingons who knew the Vulcan nerve pinch.”

“It is a long story,” he said. “I am Worf, son of Mogh. You do not appear to be in Malkus’s thrall.”

“No,” she said, putting pressure on her wound. “I am Aidulac, and I’m here to stop Malkus.”

Worf’s eyebrow rose—another Vulcan gesture. “Fascinating. How do you intend to accomplish this?”

Before she could answer, a Vulcan approached, wearing once-elegant robes that had not weathered travel through this forest particularly well—the black cloth was spattered with dirt and grass stains. Bloodstains were present as well, but they were not green, so they did not belong to him. His movements were also odd, for a Vulcan—and he was carrying a Klingon weapon.

“Two of our foes—” the Vulcan started, then noticed the other one on the ground. “Three of our foes have been defeated. We must hurry, before the others catch up.” He looked at Aidulac and then spoke irritably. “Who is this?”

“I am Aidulac. I am here to stop Malkus—forever. I’ve waited ninety thousand years for this day.” She frowned. “You two have mind-melded?”

“Yes,” Worf said. “It was the logical way to resist Malkus’s control.”

“Very wise.”

“I am Spock,” the Vulcan said. “We don’t have much time. The mind-meld will start to fade soon, and both Ambassador Worf and I will be helpless if that should happen. Do you have a method of neutralizing Malkus?”

Aidulac nodded. “I believe so. I have had many millennia to construct the device, but no way to ever test it. My attempts to do so with the previous artifacts met with resistance.”

Spock raised his eyebrow in the exact same manner that Worf had done a moment ago. “I do recall a report of a woman named Aidulac attempting to land on Alpha Proxima II when the first artifact was found there. Are you the same woman?”

“Yes.”

“Fascinating,” both Worf and Spock said simultaneously.

Worf continued, “But not relevant at this time. We must press forward before Malkus’s thralls catch up to us—or he sends more.”

“We don’t have far to go,” Aidulac said. Keeping the pressure on her