Episode 77. Bloodbath in the Tsar's Lair

Tarsi, armed with her Andorian blades, stands at the center of the room.

Facing her, Putin continues sipping his vodka, as if the tension building around him does not concern him.

Behind him, his bodyguards line up and begin stamping their feet on the concrete floor, slowly, methodically, like an ominous heartbeat.

At those words, a silhouette slowly detaches itself from the shadows on the side of the room.

My breath catches.

I recognize her immediately.

The same straight posture.

The same icy calm.

T'Met. The captain of the Schak'Irra.

The one mentioned in NATO's classified files.

Missing since 1954.

Without a glance at us, she straightens with mechanical slowness.

Her chains slide softly across the floor as she crosses the room, goes around a marble pillar, then kneels before a case concealed in a wall alcove.

She opens it.

Inside lies a massive sword with a dark blade.

T'Met takes it in both hands, rises, then returns to the Grand Tsar.

She stops in front of him.

Kneels.

And offers him the weapon.

The duel begins with a clash of metal.

Putin, sword in hand, first tries to keep his distance, while Tarsi, more agile, attempts to break his guard and strike at close range with her ushaan-tor.

During a brutal exchange, the Tsar parries awkwardly and drops his weapon.

The sword slides across the floor with a dry scrape.

Without hesitation, he grabs a rapier displayed in a nearby case.

The confrontation immediately resumes.

The blows follow one another, fast, precise.

To everyone's surprise, Putin proves fearsomely agile despite his age.

He abandons the rapier, seizes a halberd, then a dagger, constantly adapting his style to keep Tarsi at a distance.

Little by little, his breathing remains steady... while Tarsi's, by contrast, grows shorter.

The fight shifts brutally when, during an exchange of extreme violence, Tarsi loses one of her ushaan-tor.

The blade slides across the floor with a metallic sound.

Despite the disadvantage, she does not retreat.

On the contrary.

She redoubles her ferocity.

The duel reaches its climax.

In one corner of the room, Emmanuel Macron, silent until then, instinctively grabs a heavy decorative vase.

When Putin passes within reach, he brings the object down on his skull.

The vase shatters.

Putin staggers... then collapses heavily to the floor.

Projectiles suddenly whistle from the ventilation ducts.

Tear gas grenades roll across the floor.

The gas invades the room in seconds.

The Tsar's close guard opens fire in the confusion, shooting in every direction.

I see Macron, exposed, without protection.

Without thinking, I throw myself at him.

A burst of fire hits me head-on.

The impact knocks the breath from me.

I fall backward, my head striking the concrete violently.

The world explodes... then turns black.

In the chaos, Eros deploys an energy dome around the President and the Vulcans.

The bullets ricochet harmlessly off the force field.

The shooting continues for several long seconds... then spreads out.

Finally, silence falls again.

When the gas dissipates, silhouettes emerge from the ventilation ducts.

It is Charlie Unit.

They secure the room with implacable efficiency, neutralizing the last guards.

Gomard reaches me immediately.

Pale.

Without waiting, he orders my evacuation to a shuttle.

With Tarsi and Eros's help, they lay me down, but my condition is critical.

Gomard does not hesitate.

He gives the order to take off immediately.

Destination: the Enterprise.