Captain Scott Bowman sat behind the desk in his ready room with a PADD in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. With a sigh, he set the PADD down onto his desk and leaned back into his chair, covering his eyes with his now free hand. They had been tracking a rogue comet through the Thalos system, making sure its course would not intersect with Starbase 21. They had made a few corrections here and there, but overall the Starbase was out of harm’s way, and the USS Leif Erikson was now just escorting it safely out of the system. As he sat in the silence, his mind drifted back to the weeks following the Blackout crisis. 

“I have something I want to ask you.” he said, looking into Dathasa’s eyes. They had just finished a quiet dinner in his quarters and they were sipping on the last of the wine when he spoke. 

“Ooh” she said, returning his gaze with a roguish look in her eyes. “Color me excited, Captain.” 

Scott took a deep breath, grounding himself. His tone shifted from playful to serious, but it didn’t lose its warmth. “I think you should consider joining Starfleet.” The silence that followed was deafening, and the moment before she spoke stretched into eternity. He saw an expression pass over her face like a shadow. Not anger, but alarm. 

Finally, she answered, in a quiet but firm tone, “I’m not made for chains, Scott.” 

“No, it’s not about that.” he said quickly, “It’s not about uniforms or protocols. I just want you to have a seat at the table.”

“And you want me inside the system.” she replied, putting her wine glass down and crossing her arms defiantly. She leaned back into her chair and raised an eyebrow. 

“I want you beside me, Dath.” he said matter-of-factly, “Not slipping off every time the job is done.” 

She stood and walked away from him, focusing instead on the stars passing by in lines through the windows. Without looking back at him, she said “I left the Empire because I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The Rangers let me fight for something without becoming that thing.”

Scott stood and stepped towards her. “What if becoming that thing means changing it?” he asked gently. He was close behind her now, but he didn’t press any further. For another long moment, she didn’t speak. 

Finally, she turned around to face him, torn, open, and fierce. “Don’t ask me to trade one master for another.” 

“I’m not.” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in his. “I’m asking you to walk with me. Different path, same direction.”

Her eyes studied him for a moment, then the slightest smile crossed her face. “You are stubborn, aren’t you?”

 

---

 

A few days later, he and Dathasa were sitting in the lounge sharing a drink. The gentle jazz rhythms flowed across the small space. Dathasa was rolling the tall slender neck of her glass between her fingers, watching the liquid swirl around lazily inside. “I talked to Dranoj,” she said, looking up at Scott.  

“I figured you would,” Scott replied. 

“She figures Starfleet will chew me up and take who I am from me,” she said. Scott didn’t reply, but sat and listened as she went on. “I told her, maybe it’s time I decided who I want to be.” Her voice softened, and she sounded almost tentative. “And I think… I want to be someone who doesn’t just fight from the outside anymore.” Her eyes met his, which were as calm and steady as always. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Scott said to her. 

“I know that.” She replied, “I’m doing this for me,” she said. She reached across the table and took his hands in hers, smiling widely. “I’m saying, yes, Scott.” 

Scott beamed across the table at her. “I’m glad you’re willing to stand beside me,” he said. “I’ll try and set up a meeting with Starfleet Admissions when we hit Starbase 21.” 

 

---

 

Scott was standing in a meeting room on Starbase 21, his dress uniform neatly pressed. The room was quiet, aside from the constant sound of boots echoing off the deck plates in the corridor. The viewscreen before him lit up, and he was presented with the image of Commodore Ekwueme, Fourth Fleet’s Commander. “Good morning, Captain.” they said. 

Scott straightened up reflexively, pulling his shoulders back and forcing his chest forward. “Good Morning, Commodore,” he replied.

“I’ve received your message, Captain.” he continued in a business-like tone, “Asking us to consider admitting someone who has Tal Shiar affiliations. Naturally, you are aware of the considerable ethical complications of that particular affiliation.”

“I am, Sir.” Scott said, making sure to keep his tone measured. “I am also aware that the Fenris Rangers don’t hand a badge to just anyone. She risked her life, and very nearly lost it, bringing me intel on the Vaadwaur outpost in the Freecloud Sector, and indeed was pivotal in the destruction of that outpost. I understand your concerns Admiral. You see ‘Tal Shiar’ on a file and it sets your teeth on edge, but she was a child at the time, no more than being groomed for a life she ultimately refused.”

“Captain, she lived with Tal Shiar operatives her whole life. That is immersion more than passive proximity” Ekwueme said, brusquely. 

“They were her parents, Commodore.” Scott replied, anger rising in him for a moment before he was able to reign it in. He breathed deeply, resetting himself before he continued. “That immersion is why she left, Sir. She could not live with the idea that the weak are meant to be walked over for personal gain.”

“Be that as it may,” Ekwueme continued, “She still has classified knowledge of tactics and protocols that have been outlawed for decades.”

“And morals that she chose for herself.” Scott interjected. “She could have used those skills to gain power and wealth on Freecloud, but instead, she fought pirates and freed slaves. At every choice presented between control or compassion, she chose compassion. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do?”

The commodore’s shoulders fell slightly in a defeated kind of way. Scott knew they knew he was right. The admiral pursed their lips a moment, then sighed, then spoke. “You trust her.”

“I do.” Scott said “Because she carries the weight of who she is, and she isn’t looking to be redeemed, just useful. She knows she isn’t perfect, but she wants to do good. I’ll take that officer any day.”

“Very well, Captain.” Ekwueme, a tone of finality in their voice, “Your testimony has been noted, along with your sponsorship. We will contact you with our decision.”

 

---

 

He stood in the same meeting room a few days later, but this time, he was standing in the back corner. Dathasa stood on one side of the long conference table across from the holographic projection of Commodore Ekwueme, who was seated. 

The commodore spoke first. “Thank you Dathasa, for appearing before this review board. As you know, your application is under special consideration due to your past, and current, affiliations.”

“Yes, Sir.” she replied, standing with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Your parents were Tal Shiar operatives?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And between the ages of ten and eighteen, you received training?”

“Not quite, Commodore. I was groomed, indoctrinated even, but never formally trained.”

“And you ran from them?”

“I watched my parents interrogate innocent people.” Dathasa said, her posture becoming rigid with suppressed anger, “Saw a boy my age get hauled off and disappear for asking the wrong questions. I couldn’t bring myself to be a part of that, so yes Commodore, I ran.” 

“Most don’t survive defection from the Tal Shiar.” Ekwueme said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Most aren’t stupid enough to try.” Dathasa retorted. 

“Then you joined the Fenris Rangers, and operated outside legal structures, operating without oversight and commandeering vessels?” He asked, his tone curt but measured

Dathasa fought the urge to shout. “We didn’t follow the rules out there, because there weren’t any. I protected innocent lives. Broke up slaver rings and freed prisoners. I can sleep with my choices, Sir.” She swelled with pride at the last statement, and Scott couldn’t help but swell a bit too. 

Commodore Ekwueme’s hologram leaned forward onto the table. “And now you wish to serve under a code that expressly forbids everything the Tal Shiar represents?”

 “That is why I am here, Commodore.” Dathasa acknowledged. 

A beat of silence followed. After a moment, he straightened up once again, facing Dathasa. 

The commodore stood. “We are not in the habit of admitting former, well, groomed agents of foreign intelligence services into Starfleet, but this is an exceptional case.” Scott stood, knowing the meeting was coming to a close. Dathasa looked mildly worried. Ekwueme continued, “You will be granted a provisional commission, under observation. Your evaluation period will be one standard year, under the supervision of Captain Scott Bowman. Your assignment will be the USS Leif Erikson. Use of any banned techniques will result in immediate termination. Do you understand?” 

Dathasa straightened up again. “Yes, Commodore,” she said, a smile spreading slowly across her face. 

Ekwueme continued, “Congratulations, Lieutenant. Serve with integrity,” they said, then his hologram flickered out, leaving just Dathasa and Scott in the room. 

“You handled that well,” Scott said, crossing the room to shake her hand. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice being interrogated.” She said with a sly smile. 

“Let’s get back to the Erikson. There’s a party to be had.” Scott added, offering her his arm. 

 

The chime of an incoming message roused Scott from his reminiscing. Turning to the monitor on his desk, he saw the flash.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION. STARFLEET COMMAND. PRIORITY ONE. 

The face of Task Force Executive Officer Edwin Wagner flickered on the screen.  He spoke first, “Good day to you, Captain Bowman.”

“Captain Wagner.” Scott said with a smile, “Where’s the fire?”

Wagner’s face remained unmoved. “We have a new assignment for you.”  He tapped at his console, and a sector map shifted into view. “In the aftermath of everything, we’re starting to clean up on mapping and cartographic operations.”  Wagner zoomed in on the map, “It was originally mapped about forty years ago.”

“I’ve seen that dead space on the map.” Scott replied, rubbing his chin with his hand, “That’s the Gilese Verge, where the USS Winslow disappeared. Why didn’t they complete the mission?”

The Task Force XO’s lips remained a thin line, “That’s the complicated part to this puzzle.  While completing the initial mapping, the scans affected the magnetosphere of one of the planets they thought was inhabitable.  For numerous reasons far too bureaucratic for this conversation, we haven’t put eyes on the planet since then.”

“And you would like us to finish the scan, and see what kind of damage they did back then?” Scott asked flatly. 

Wagner’s smile took a turn for the ironic, “Got it in one, Captain Bowman.  There’s hope for you yet.”  The smile broadened.  The TF XO seemed to understand the slightly amusing elements inherent in the mission.  He sat back, “There is one more thing.”

“Isn’t there always?” Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wagner tapped at his desk, “We’re asking you to follow a communications blackout during this mission.”  He paused and continued, “There are some rumors about that sector, and what you may find. One of the leading stories is a phantom squad that’s in the surrounding area.  Intelligence hasn’t been able to lock down what group these alleged ships are from – Romulan, Klingon, Cardassian…could be anyone.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.” replied Captain Bowman.

The TF XO shrugged, “It could simply be tall tales from untrustworthy transports and mercenaries trying to shake us up or keep us away. Either way, run as silently as you can.  Once you understand the situation, break the silence when you deem it acceptable.”

“Understood, Captain.” Scott said. “I will let you know what we find. Bowman out.” He tapped the screen and it went blank, showing nothing but his own face reflected in its surface. Heaving a deep sigh, he tapped the combadge on his chest. “Captain Bowman to Commander Saberwyn.”

Go ahead, Captain.

“Assemble the senior staff in the conference room, please. We have a new mission.”

Scott looked around the table at his senior staff, all seated before him except his newest officer, Dathasa, who instead stood against the wall opposite the door, her back to the windows.

“Alright Captain, what’s the deal?” Bema asked.

“We’ve received orders to complete a cartographic mission in Sector 247.” Scott answered.

“247?” Tom said, sitting up in his chair, “Why? There’s nothing out there. It’s a dead zone.”

“Be that as it may, we still need to finish the scans and complete the map.” Scott replied. 

“247, isn’t that where the USS Winslow disappeared?” Ezra asked. 

“We are not going to get bogged down with rumors and ghost stories.” Scott said. “The USS Winslow was presumed lost due to loss of warp core containment, that’s all.”

Vail spoke up next. “Why are they having us finish a mapping job from forty years ago?”

“Maybe Starfleet Command ran out of good missions?” Sriarr suggested with a chuckle. 

“I, for one, don’t mind the menial stuff.” Bema said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m tired of being shot at, and it seems to keep happening with alarming frequency.”

“That’s not all.” Scott said, “Command has deemed this mission as sensitive, and has asked us to maintain a communication blackout during the mission.”

“That’s wargame protocol, isn’t it?” Ezra asked. 

Sriarr slammed his fur covered fist down onto the table. “For fuck sakes, didn’t we just end a blackout, and now they want us to enter another one?” his ear flicked irritably. “Scott, this doesn’t feel right.” 

“I agree.” Bema said, nodding and casting a glance at Scott, “It seems overkill for a mapping mission.”

Dathasa, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, pushed herself off the wall with her foot and made her way to the opposite end of the table as Scott. “I’ve seen this sort of thing before.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Starfleet buried something out here, and now they want us to clean up the mess.” At this, the senior staff all began murmuring at the same time, firing questions and concerns at Scott in scrambles unison. 

Scott raised his hands to silence the room. “I don’t like this any more than you do, and there is a lot about this mission that makes me uncomfortable, but we have our orders, and we will carry them out as we always do.” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, everyone, let’s get to it, if you don’t mind.” The people at the table stood, and exited the conference room, bound for their stations. 

On the bridge, Scott took his center seat as Ezra relieved the pilot, taking his place behind his console. His fingers danced across the surface, and after a moment he turned to look over his shoulder and said, “Course laid in for Sector 247, Captain.”

“Let’s turn and burn Lieutenant, warp five please.” Scott replied, leaning back into his chair. Thoughts flooded through his mind as the ship gave its signature small lurch into warp speed. What isn’t Starfleet telling us? Who are we going to find out there? What did happen to the Winslow? One thing was for sure, something was hidden out there, and Scott was going to find it.