“This report makes for some rather interesting reading.”

Fleet Captain Tikva Theodoras was the only person seated in her ready room, the others present all standing. Vilo Kendris and Kelly Tabaaha were at her back, the young acting yeoman doing an admirable job of controlling her emotional state. The five members of Silver Team were standing opposite her desk, all at rest while Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va was standing off to the side, the Xindi-Insectoid being the only one she couldn’t read.

“Ma’am,” Lieutenant Mitchell spoke up, cutting himself off as she raised a single hand.

“Just a moment, Lieutenant. Let me finish.” She could feel the worry radiating from Amber Leckie, the nervousness from Rosa Mackeson, the sheer nothingness from Brek. Mitchell himself was as calm and collected as Fightmaster, who she figured wasn’t worried because being her yeoman meant he had plenty of time to get a read on her as well.

“You were tasked with confirming Doctor Shreln’s position and then leaving so we could send a proper team in to arrest her. Instead, you opted to bring her in yourself.”

“It was an optional objective we were given.”

She waited a moment, then turned to Kendris, who nodded once in confirmation. “It would seem, then, that someone neglected to inform me of that. Or I forgot,” she admitted. “Regardless, your extraction under fire means someone in the New Maquis is going to eventually hear about this and your faces are going to be added to their lists of people to shoot on site, no doubt.”

“Fleet Captain, may I speak in defence of my team and their actions?” Ch’tkk’va’s clicks and snaps were just audible over the noise washing the universal translator did.

She sighed, shaking her head. “No need Lieutenant.” The grin couldn’t be held back any longer, the act of disciplinarian slipping. “You all did an admirable job. Honestly, better this than having to storm the place and fight through an entire New Maquis facility to arrest one mad woman. It does mean we can’t use you for covert operations with the New Maquis again, but I’ll take it over what could have been.”

“A commendation has been added to all of your records,” Kendris said. “And as a member of the Romulan Republic, which could very well have become a victim of one of Shreln’s schemes, I personally want to say thank you. Which is more than you’ll get from the Free State, mind you.”

“Now, that out of the way. I want all five of you to take a few days off and relax.” It was, after all, a captain’s prerogative to grant leave whenever she wanted. “We’re heading for DS9, then Betazed to ensure Doctor Shreln is handed over to Federation authorities. I won’t subject you to any media enquiries if they arise, but someone from Starfleet Security might want to talk with you when we get there.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mitchell said for his team.

“Dismissed.”

She watched as the team filed out, save for Stirling, with Ch’tkk’va behind them. Kendris waited a second, then followed, giving a brief nod that said I’ll get us underway. As the door closed, it just left her with her yeoman and his temporary replacement.

“Mr Fightmaster?”

“I’m ready to resume my duties, ma’am,” he replied.

“Interesting.” She turned to face Kelly, the young woman’s emotions a mix still, but settling down now. “Ms Tabaaha, what did I just tell Silver Team to do?”

“Take a few days off,” Kelly answered.

“Has Mr Fightmaster done that?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Thought so.” She turned on Stirling once more. “Two days Stirling. Relax, catch up with W’a’le’ki. Read a book.”

“Ma’am,” he tried to protest.

“Do I need to make it an official order?”

He looked like he was going to protest for a second, then sighed, knowing when he was beat. “No, ma’am.”

“Good. Two days. And if I see you in uniform, I’ll extend it.”

“You would punish him with more time off?” Kelly asked after Stirling had left.

“Certainly would,” she answered. “He needs a break, and this is just the perfect time to give it to him.”

“You would like me to stay on then until he returns to duty?” Kelly asked.

“Yes please,” she blurted. “Don’t I have a meeting with Ra soon?”

Port Royal was bustling at this hour, a shift change only having just passed and those newly off-duty taking advantage of the common space to socialise. But the Hazard Teams had, much like the pilots of Harpy Flight, or the ship’s senior staff, carved out a space for themselves that always seemed to empty when they arrived. The unspoken social rule meant when they had a booth to settle into and soon enough drinks had arrived, along with their wayward fifth who had stayed behind.

“Arguing for more work?” Rosa teased Stirling as he sat down. “Or telling…Kelly…where the Captain keeps her secret stash?”

“I have been reminded that Captain Theodoras has given us two days off,” Stirling answered. “And encouraged to relax.”

Amber laughed. “You? Relax? Honestly Stirling, the only time I ever see you relaxed is in uniform, carrying out the inscrutable will of the captain.”

“He does also appear relaxed when partaking in duets,” Brek said from behind a cup of tea freshly delivered.

“Oh yeah!” Amber slapped her hands on the table. “Should we go bust out the karaoke machine?”

“Please, no,” Mitchell answered. “No. Can’t we just sit and relax?” He surveyed his people, having also been forced to the back of the booth and surrounded by his team. “You all did good work.”

“Ah, thanks boss,” Rosa said. “Honestly though, Amber’s little trick with those Vulcan rocks, real win there.”

“Ah, was nothing. If it hadn’t been for those, I was just going to inject them with some radioactive isotopes and hope we could filter them out before it killed them.”

“Pardon?” Stirling asked.

“Joking!” Amber replied. “Or am I?”

“Barium Sulfate? Or iodine?” Brek asked, an eyebrow raised. “Or something more exotic?”

“People,” Mitchell interrupted. “No more work talk. We got into New Barataria, extracted a wanted bio-terrorist and got out without any major injuries.”

“Save Stirling’s stomach in the storm!” Rosa interrupted.

“Save Stirling’s stomach,” Mitchell conceded, “We did a damn fine job!”

“Hear hear!” Amber and Rosa both cheered. Brek and Stirling opting for a more reserved expression by raising their drinks of choice.

“Now,” Mitchell leaned forward, staring at Stirling and letting the airs of command slip now he was on leave, “Stirling, time to answer some questions. You and W’a’le’ki an actual item?”

“Oh yes!” Amber exclaimed. “Spill!”

“Well…”