For the majority of Lakota’s time in spacedock, the days had blended into one, with her crew growing weary of the monotony of day-to-day routine. Today was not one of those days. News had broken on the FNS earlier that morning of the chaos engulfing the former Demilitarised Zone, just days after the reported destruction of Outpost C-91. A skirmish had broken out in the former DMZ between several different factions, it seemed, with the starship Arcturus caught in the crossfire during the performance of her duties. While this might have made the airwaves during a slow news cycle, that wasn’t the development that had gripped Starfleet. Mere months after the Frontier Day debacle, a new threat was rising in a long-since-forgotten territory. If you could call it new, anyway. Perhaps ‘revived’ would be better terminology for a group calling itself the Maquis. And true to fashion, and the historical data recordings nearly three decades old, they were still up to their old tricks.

On this particular occasion, they’d broadcast their warning far and wide, for all and sundry to hear: condemnation of the Cardassians and their continued oppression of worlds in the region; righteous indignation towards Starfleet for a perceived inability to protect worlds and colonists. Their most scathing comments were saved for the True Way movement, whom they accused of some of the most heinous crimes imaginable. In a move to try and legitimise their actions, the New Maquis (how original) had released evidence they claimed supported their viewpoint and proved that the True Way was responsible for the destruction of C-91. While the veracity of their claims had yet to be determined, what was clear was that the Maquis were here, and here to stay. Again. And the threat to Starfleet and Federation personnel in and around the DMZ was real. A little too real for Starfleet’s liking.

Upon receiving word that the new Task Force Commander had scheduled an impromptu visit had put Keziah on edge, and that, in turn, put her people on edge. She now found herself standing motionless, twiddling her thumbs at the center of transporter room one, waiting for his arrival. Once the rematerialisation process was complete, she took in a deep breath and stepped forward. There, standing across from her, was yet another new Task Force Commander, in his pristine uniform, with his pristine hair. He was the third commander of Seventeen since she had been with the squadron, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long this one would be in post before she had to welcome another new commander aboard. For now though, she’d make him as welcome as she could.

“Lakota welcomes you, Captain,” she smiled, stepping forward and offering a hand in greeting to the honoured guest.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” Callen’s voice softened with sincerity as he reached out to clasp her hand, his grip firm yet respectful. His eyes, alight with admiration, met hers briefly before he spoke. “I cannot express enough gratitude for this chance to finally meet you in person.” 

Pausing, a subtle grin tugged at the corners of his lips he then added, “And I must say, the Lakota looks almost as impressive as its esteemed captain.” 

“Oh please,” the Trill scoffed as she grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him from the transporter room. “I’m too old for that nonsense. But, the pleasure is mine. And you’re right, Lakota is impressive. She’s not quite Hathaway impressive, but then we’re still getting used to each other,” she winked, responding to his earlier statement as they began the trek down the corridor.

“Ah, yes, Hathaway, of course, my apologies for the inconvenience,” Callen said, his brows furrowing, he hesitated, then continued, “But if it offers any reassurance, Captain Romaes is meticulously tending to her needs.” 

His gaze lingered on her, a calculated pause as he observed her reaction. Callen’s subtle discomfort-inducing tactic had been refined during his tenure at Starfleet Intelligence. He understood the power of creating unease to elicit desired responses. In his mind, it wasn’t about making friends; it was about ensuring control and effectiveness in every interaction.

Nazir, however, had multiple lifetimes of experience behind her and could gauge from his expression that he was looking for a reaction from her. The question was whether she should play along or not. She could let him have his fun, assert his dominance in his new role, or she could put him in his place on her ship. “Captain Romaes is incredibly lucky to have received my blessing,” the Trill smiled in a bid to disarm whatever potential conflict could be brewing. “I wouldn’t hand over my crew and ship to just anyone, you know. Especially after all we went through in the Deneb sector and the weeks that followed,” she stopped in her tracks and ran a hand across a pristine bulkhead, her words echoing in the empty, hallowed halls.

A grin spread across Callen’s face as his gaze met Captain Nazir’s. There was a familiarity in their exchange, a silent acknowledgement. He had pored over every detail of her past exploits, every report and dossier, and seeing her now, she didn’t disappoint.

But as she mentioned the Deneb conflict, a shadow crossed Callen’s expression, a flicker of concern hidden behind his smile. Quickly, he decided to steer the conversation away from the formalities and towards the task at hand.

“Ah, yes,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of regret. “It’s unfortunate. But I suspect this will not be the last time we relive old times in the near future.” With a subtle motion, he reached for a PADD, passing it to her with a measured gesture.

Taking ownership of the data PADD, the Trill scanned her eyes over the document, nodding and letting out slight grunts in all the right places as she devoured its contents. “We received the morning intelligence updates on the region,” she told, gesturing for them to continue into the turbo lift nearby. “What do you make of this claim about the True Way being responsible for C-91?” she asked, leading them into the turbo car.

Callen’s grin spread across his face, a knowing glint in his eyes. He followed Nazir into the lift, his gaze locking onto hers with a hint of amusement. 

“You and I, Captain, we’re well aware that’s not their modus operandi,” he remarked, his voice laced with confidence.

“Cardassians? Accused of the cold-blooded murder of Federation citizens? We’ve never seen that before,” she scoffed, looking to the ceiling and letting out an enormous sigh. “But then, people on our side have been guilty of the same in the past.”

“Indeed, Captain,” Callen acknowledged with a subtle nod, his tone carrying a note of agreement, “it does bear resemblance to the methods of some old acquaintances of ours.”

He pointed towards the PADD as he continued with a thoughtful expression, “Take a look at the next file. It might shed some light on this.”

“Son of a bitch…” she whispered as she read along, shaking her head and grunting in all the right places, only stopping when the turbo lift arrived at the bridge. Leading the TFCO into the command center with arms held out, the Trill smiled proudly.

“She’s not as sterile and shiny as the rest of the ship, but I didn’t want her to be. I want my people working comfortably up here, but I’m sure I’ll be overruled one day and we’ll have to swap out the carpet eventually,” she laughed, looking down at their feet.

Surveying the expansive bridge, Callen’s gaze swept across its impressive features, he remained unfazed, having encountered worse in his duties. To him, functionality trumped extravagance; as long as the task was accomplished, he mused, they could all be wandering about in nothing but socks without a concern in the world.

“Welcome to Lakota, Captain…”

“Captain Callen Varro, this is my first officer, Noli Auru,” Nazir welcomed her XO into the conversation, as Noli advanced and offered her hand. “Commander Noli, Captain Varro is our new Task Force Commander,” the Trill added, knowing full well her Number One knew who he was, but trying to make him feel welcome aboard her ship.

Callen inclined his head slightly, a subtle gesture of acknowledgment. “Commander,” he began, his voice tinged with warmth and respect, “your efforts on Uviri spoke volumes.”

“It was a significant team effort sir,” Noli smiled, looking proudly around the bridge crew, then back to the TFCO. “How can we help the Task Force today, Captain?” she inquired.

Callen’s lips curled into a gentle smile, but his eyes betrayed little emotion as he spoke. “That is something which Captain Nazir and myself are about to discuss in the observation lounge, Commander,” he said, his voice steady.

In a subtle shift, his posture straightened, and his gaze sharpened. With a decisive gesture, he took the lead, his steps purposeful as he guided Nazir towards the lounge. 

“It is that way, isn’t it, Captain?” he asked, his tone carrying a confident assurance.

The observation lounge on Lakota didn’t get much use these days, thanks to the StratOps suite that gave the bridge crew a space to work and strategize which meant they didn’t have to be away from the bridge for any length of time. Nazir couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in the lounge, let alone used it for an actual meeting. “Please,” she smiled, nodding at his inference and holding a hand out for him to lead the way.

A short while later, Callen emerged from the observation lounge, his steps measured, betraying a hint of lingering contemplation. As he crossed the threshold into the corridor, his breath hitched momentarily, his chest rising with a deep inhalation that seemed to anchor him in the present moment.

Turning to face Commander Noli, Callen met her gaze, finding her eyes fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. “Commander Noli,” he began, his tone measured but urgent, “Captain Nazir requires your presence. She’s awaiting you in the Lounge, ready to brief you on the latest developments.”

“Thank you Captain,” Noli nodded, heading for the door before stopping in her tracks. Looking back at him, she felt the need to say something reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, sir, you can rest assured we’ll do our absolute best to deal with it.” 

“Good,” he responded with a nod, a thoughtful pause punctuating his words. Then, turning his attention back to Commander Noli, he continued, “And Commander, if you could kindly inform the Captain for me… let her know that I’ll be staying aboard a little while longer. You know, just in case there’s any more information needed.”

“As you wish,” Noli nodded, then crossed the threshold to the briefing room.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?”