“Madam Prime Minister, Fleet Captain Theodoras to see you.”

Mevah Ezea, Prime Minister of Betazed, didn’t even look up from the reports she was reading. She merely waved at her secretary, shooing the man away. “Tell her I’ll call her back in an hour.” The flash of concern she got from the man snapped her eyes up to him, worry written on his face as well. “What?”

“Well, ma’am, it’s just –”

“We have a problem,” announced the young woman barging in through the doors to Mevah’s office, pushing both aside with a grandiose flourish. Schedules had never aligned for her and Fleet Captain Theodoras to meet in person, their conversations always over screens the past few weeks after their respective minders had arranged schedules to allow them. So she was a little taken off guard by just how short the woman was.

Everyone who had met the Fleet Captain and reported back had left her with a distinct impression of a taller, larger-than-life person. And her experience with Starfleet over the years left her with a mental impression to match. Of someone who towered over others. Every commanding officer she’d met stood tall, carried themselves with that height, becoming the de facto centre of any room they entered. Someone somewhere kept selecting captains that matched the recruitment posters.

Not this.

Fleet Captain Theodoras was shorter than her own secretary. Reality just wasn’t matching the image she’d built up in her mind. But the noise and energy she radiated, that matched with expectations. The lack of a proper education was self-evident from the noisy thoughts thrown around with no concern. The mind and discipline of a child.

This wasn’t someone policing their own thoughts, but one who forced everyone else to erect their own barriers, least they suffer the droning inanity of someone else’s mind. She knew children with better control.

Which all lined up with the reporting she had for this woman’s background. The spawn of a child of Betazed who fled responsibility all for love and who refused to reengage with her birth world once a child had been born, depriving that child of a proper education and subjecting it to whatever it was that Earth considered education.

She wasn’t disgusted by the Fleet Captain. No, she felt pity for the woman.

More so now that she’d been subjected to the noise of her mind.

“Jren, be a dear and bring us some tea,” she said calmly to her secretary, rising to her feet and waving to one of the two seats opposite her desk. “Fleet Captain Theodoras, an unexpected pleasure. Please, come in, sit.”

It was only then she noticed the other Starfleet officer with the Fleet Captain. A tall young man whose hair was only a few shades off of his superiors. His face was bland and his mind was more so. He stepped aside for Jren, whispered something quietly to her secretary to her secretary, then grabbed the handles to the double doors of her office and drew them closed with barely a noise before stepping to the side and coming to a standstill.

He was, in her opinion, far too quiet. Focusing on him for a brief moment, she caught the edges of a faint recital whirling around inside of his head. Someone had prepared this young lieutenant well.

“I’ve ordered all Starfleet assets in the system to yellow alert,” Theodoras declared as she crossed the expansive office. Plush cherry blossom carpet dulled the woman’s quick footsteps to a mere patter, saving all from the aggressive clacking of boot heels. Mid-morning sun poured through windows to Mevah’s left, consuming one of the chairs opposite her and limiting her visitor to the other, if she didn’t want to be blinded by the light.

“Yes, all Starfleet assets. Both of them,” Mevah said with a smile, reminding the Fleet Captain of just exactly who she was here – the commander of just two ships. Not an admiral, not a commodore, just a captain with a little extra jewellery. As she settled into her own chair once more, she couldn’t miss the change in static coming from her visitor. It danced and warbled about before settling back to the same buzzing when she first entered.

“Now, what sort of problem do we have?” she continued, that same smile and civil tone at work she used when addressing visitors to her office. Visitors that she normally had to deal with day to day. Or who had the clout and influence to make her career difficult, if not outright untenable.

“Yes. Quite.” The response was blunt. A mask for a curse. The jibe about Starfleet assets had landed somewhere. “There are unknown ships in the slow zone, headed towards Betazed. Calculations have them exiting the slow zone in, how long now Stirling?” Theodoras asked, looking over her shoulder at the young man.

“Sixteen and a half hours, ma’am.” There hadn’t been a single flicker in that faint recital.

“Unknown ships,” Mevah said, the smile falling from her face and the polite tone gone. “Is that all you have? No theories on what this anomaly is? Or how to dispel it so we can all go back to business as normal? Just unknown ships?”

“They aren’t Starfleet ships,” Theodoras said. “And we’re pretty sure they aren’t any of our allies, either. As for the anomaly, my people are still just as stumped as your own people are. I understand Commander Camargo had a nice long talk with Doctor Linamen regarding the new data from Tizona.”

“Is this some sort of trick, to see how we’ll respond?” she asked. The flash of anger she felt from Theodoras was genuine enough. Raw enough. The accusation said, the deep-seated rebuttal given. “No, no, it isn’t.” She sighed, letting her eyes glance over the various sundries spread across her desk for a second. A desk older than anyone on the planet, to which generations of women had sat behind and mate fateful decisions for their world. Just as she felt was about to settle on her.

“I resent the implication,” Theodoras said, as calmly as she could. It might have fooled someone who couldn’t hear the anger wafting away from her. But there was something else there, just beyond the noise.

Bitch. Who does she think she is?

Prime Minister of Betazed, that’s who.

She glared at the captain for a second, those whispers fading. Or crushed. “I’m sure you do.” Then she relaxed a little. “Fine, let us assume your so-called detection is genuine. Someone or something is in the anomaly and is coming here. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Bring planetary defence to alert status. Call in any reservists you can. Get Betazed ready for anything.”

She scoffed at the idea. She couldn’t help it. It was ridiculous. “You want me to declare an emergency and get Betazed ready for what? An attack by some unknown force that happens to be in the heart of the Federation? It’s far, far more likely your sensors are wrong, and that’s a Starfleet relief force out there on final approach. No, Fleet Captain, I don’t think I’ll be doing any of that. Not without further proof.”

Theodoras shook her head in disbelief. “Ever heard of a code forty-seven?”

“Some Starfleet code,” Mevah replied. “Captain’s eyes only, deadly important. Let me guess, you mysteriously got one as well?” The flash of petty smugness she got from Theodoras was confirmation enough. “How?” she followed up immediately, actually curious as to whatever story was about to be concocted and thrown at her.

“Starbase Bravo has a MIDAS Array.” Theodoras answered with such confidence that Mevah couldn’t challenge it. This woman honestly believed it. Whatever a MIDAS Array was. Science wasn’t her thing, after all. She had people for that. “The same thing Starfleet used to communicate with Voyager in the Delta Quadrant.” The explanation provided some context at least. “They tried sending us a message an hour ago. The only part we received clear enough to make sense of was code forty-seven. It’s not a code used lightly. That and these unknowns is why we need to be prepared. Now.”

Something shifted within Theodoras. The static, the noise, the loud thoughts, they all faded. She was still louder than the mannequin in an officer’s uniform over by the door, who was right now opening said door for Jren, dutiful Jren, who approached with a tea service for two. But Theodoras’ mind had locked down just now. Focused on one task.

“I’ll have to assemble my cabinet,” Mevah answered after a moment. “And inform the Cabinet of Matriarchs, before I make any official decisions.”

And then that focus of Theodoras’ disappeared instantly. It was enough to make Jren shudder with shock as he poured the first cup. But the lovely little man recouped himself well enough. About the same time as Theodoras did herself.

“And unofficially?” the fleet captain asked. “You are the Prime Minister of Betazed, after all.”

“You have sent your findings to Commodore Usino, no doubt?” she asked, the nod from Theodoras instant. “I will wait to hear his conclusions before making any decisions.”

“I’ll await your response then, Prime Minister,” Theodoras said, rising to her feet with such force that telegraphed the end of the meeting. She spun on her heel and marched away, the man named Stirling opening the door for his captain before stepping through and closing it with a slight bow. At least he had respect for her position.

“Child,” Mevah cursed. A clink of a saucer to her side and she turned to Jren, drawing in a breath, composing herself and offering the man a smile. “Thank you, Jren,” she said as she reached for the tea. “You can have the second cup, since our guest was so impolite as to leave before tea.”

“I haven’t poured the second cup, ma’am,” Jren answered. “Lieutenant Fightmaster advised it wouldn’t be needed when I came in.”

“Did he now?” she asked, turning to stare at the now closed door. “Assemble my cabinet. I want to speak to all of the ministers in ten minutes. Then reach out to the matriarch’s offices and respectfully ask for a meeting within the hour with as many of them as possible. And ask Mistress Asimi if I could speak to her beforehand. Tell her it’s about her wayward granddaughter. We just might have a slight problem after all.”