In the softly lit office of Admiral Jaret, the round table was surrounded by holographic displays casting a pale blue glow over the room’s occupants. Captain McPherson stood at the head of the table, her figure rigid, hands clasped behind her back as her intense gaze passed over the assembled officers: Admiral Jaret herself, Captain Horin, Captain Levy, and Commander Sturok. 

“I’d like to introduce you all to Captain Stella McPherson; officially, she works for Starfleet Logistics and was assigned here to complete final requests from our recent success with our agreement with the Romulan Free State,” Jaret said, introducing the guest to their meeting. 

“And unofficially?” Levy challenged.

“This part is classified,” Jaret explained, “she is a section chief within Starfleet Intelligence and is here today to brief us on a recent matter that affects the Alcor Sector and the surrounding region.” 

All of the officers remained silent after hearing that. 

McPherson’s voice cut through the quiet. “The recent raid on the U-S-S Mary Rose has been confirmed as the work of the Orion Syndicate,” she announced, her tone measured but carrying an edge of frustration. She pressed a button to display the sensor readings from the Cheyenne-class ship of the battle. It not only included the fight between the Mary Rose and the Orion raiders but also the brutal invasion of their raiding parties that boarded the ship.  “The vessel was transporting technology that Starfleet Intelligence had retrieved from the black market. These items were highly classified as they were either Borg technology or prototypes developed by Daystrom Institute.”

“I assume they were on the black market thanks to the rogue Changelings that Admiral Picard exposed to everyone on Frontier Day?” Horin asked.

Nodding, McPherson remained steadfast in her response. “Yes.” She carried on with her briefing. “As I said, the Orions stole a number of items, but the most concerning loss was a subspace communication jamming device—a prototype that Daystrom Station had developed from salvaged Vau N’Akat tech.”

Levy stiffened, her hands clenched into fists on the table. “So, we’re relying on technology from species that nearly annihilated Starfleet twice?” she snapped. “The Borg… the Vau N’Akat? Captain, have we learned nothing?”

McPherson met Levy’s stare without flinching. “Sometimes, Captain, we have to think like our enemies to defend ourselves from them. These are defensive prototypes, and even though we’ve kept them tightly controlled for years, as I stated, we believe the rogue Changeling infiltrators sold them to the black market to build their network. We also believe that before their demises, they somehow helped the Orions acquire enough intelligence on our routes to pull off this heist.”

“Disturbing,” Sturok remarked, his Vulcan voice as placid as always. “The statistical probability of Syndicate involvement was already high, but a confirmed connection escalates the threat level significantly.”

Horin leaned back in his chair, his brows furrowed in concern. “If this jamming device is as powerful as you suggest, it could disrupt subspace communications across thousands of light-years. That could cripple entire sectors, cut off vital communication lines. Who else knows about this?”

McPherson shook her head. “A handful of officers at Intelligence and Starfleet Command. It’s imperative that it stays contained.”

There was a pause as McPherson scanned the room, assessing each officer’s reaction. 

Jaret sat forward, steepling her fingers, her gaze sharp. “So, Captain, what exactly do you propose? And why involve us in a covert mission?”

McPherson’s lips twitched into a small, calculating smile as she tapped her PADD, and the holographic display shifted to show the profile of Lieutenant Thomas Hawkins. His record flickered in the blue light, accompanied by several mission logs detailing his past assignments with Starfleet Intelligence. All of them were classified and required a high level of clearance to review them. 

The reaction was immediate. Jaret sighed while Levy’s mouth tightened into a grim line. Horin looked puzzled, and Sturok’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow.

“Lieutenant Hawkins?” Horin asked, still visibly confused. “But he’s…well, he’s our chief communications officer. I never imagined he’d be our first choice for something this—” He paused, searching for the right word. “This dangerous.”

“Ah, you’re not alone,” Jaret said dryly. “Hawkins has managed to keep his head down and avoid any Intelligence work for two years now.”

McPherson nodded. “And that’s exactly why he’s the ideal operative for this mission. He was one of our best agents before he moved to this assignment. He’s trained in deep cover operations and has been successful on many accounts along the Federation-Romulan Free State border.”

“Thomas is a trained operative?” Horin’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought he was just—”

“Just a nice guy?” Levy interjected. “He is, but he also lived a double life many years ago.”

“That is correct. Lieutenant Hawkins is quite personable.” Sturok added with a calm tone. “Nevertheless, he possesses depth.” He turned his gaze toward McPherson, his expression unreadable. “But how would his personal history with covert work impact his performance?”

McPherson’s gaze sharpened. “I trained Hawkins and his former partner myself during their time at the Starfleet Academy campus on Mellstoxx Three,” she said, her voice firm. She looked at Horin now, knowing that the captain did not know Hawkins’ past compared to the others in the room. “After completing their training in covert operations, they were assigned to Deep Space Nineteen. When they were required to, they undertook covert operations as junior officers. They were, without a doubt, the best unit we had this far out along the border. That partner was Lieutenant Orlando Radcliffe, and they were engaged to be married until Radcliffe abruptly left Starfleet two years ago.”

The room fell silent. Levy, who had been Hawkins’s counsellor, shifted uncomfortably. “That breakup nearly shattered Hawkins. He confided in me that he felt abandoned, betrayed even. We both know Radcliffe didn’t just leave Starfleet. He’s a freelancing pilot for the Independent Archaeologists Guild now, or at least that’s the official story.”

Horin shook his head. “And you want to send Hawkins in, knowing this history?”

McPherson didn’t waver. “Yes, I do. The mission requires someone who knows the Syndicate’s tactics inside and out. We’ve recently received intelligence suggesting that Radcliffe is now working for Briasyraa, a possible Syndicate leader and one of the border region’s wealthiest and most influential figures. She’s been rumoured to harbour some stolen technology and may even have the jamming device.”

“Briasyraa,” Horin repeated with a slow nod. “I’ve heard of her since my time on Starbase Bravo. She has a reputation for ruthlessness and a long-standing vendetta against Starfleet. However, she only gained her wealth in the last few years. Some say she’s never worked for the Syndicate and has long-standing business links with the Ferengi Alliance.”

“If you believe that, then you can believe anything,” McPherson retorted snortingly. “She’s cunning and uses charm to get anything she wants.”

Horin raised his hands in surrender and spoke back with almost the same sarcastic tone from Levy earlier. “Then I stand corrected; she sounds like a real gem and someone who you would want hiding stolen experimental technology.”

McPherson’s expression darkened. “Precisely. Starfleet Intelligence believes Briasyraa plans to transport the stolen tech along a particular Syndicate shipping route, one that navigates Federation and Romulan Free State space. This may be our best shot to intercept.”

Levy crossed her arms, her voice filled with maternal worry. “You’re sending Hawkins back into an emotional minefield. His recovery hasn’t been easy. Do you really believe he can keep it together?”

McPherson’s gaze softened just a fraction. “I believe he can. But I understand the risks.” She glanced at Jaret. “Which is why I’m here briefing you on this.”

Jaret let out a slow, measured breath. “So you want us to let Hawkins go alone, into Syndicate territory, after his former fiancée who’s now possibly working for the Syndicate?”

McPherson nodded. “I do. Hawkins is uniquely qualified, and Radcliffe’s presence may give him an edge.”

Horin shook his head. “It’s a long shot.”

“It won’t work,” Levy remarked in a firmer tone. She shook her head as she rubbed her eyes. “Tom was traumatised after he left Starfleet Intelligence.”

“Agents can sometimes struggle with the reintegration into normal duty after being out in the field a long-term,” McPherson remarked.

Levy shot her a look. “Don’t even give me that bull crap, Stella. You took this young man, trained him up and sent him into some dangerous, challenging environments and when the only form of support he had left, he then fell to pieces.” 

Horin looked between Levy and Jaret now. “Am I missing something here?”

Jaret nodded. “Tom struggled when Orlando left. The two of them were inseparable, and after years of conducting covert operations, everything sort of built up and took its toll on him.”

“Tom struggled with a high level of post-traumatic stress disorder,” Levy shared. “As the highest-ranking trained counsellor in the region, only I could support him along with help from Jowain and Sturok.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know,” Horin remarked, further surprised by that. 

“Doctor Parin provided medical assistance to Lieutenant Hawkins while I guided him in several Vulcan meditations and mind-melds,” Sturok stated.

“It’s another reason why I asked the admiral if I could brief you all on this,” McPherson conveyed. “Once this mission is complete, I am certain that Hawkins will need your support again.”

“Do we have a choice in the matter?” Sturok challenged.

McPherson shook her head. “No, this mission has been authorised by Admiral Beckett.”

“The head of Fourth Fleet Intelligence?” Levy scoffed. “Of course, he would; the admiral is so arrogant with confidence that he’s—”

“That’s enough, Dawn,” Jaret warned Levy.

“Sorry,” Levy said, taking in a deep breath.

“We should at least consider a support option,” Sturok stated calmly, trying to ease the conversation in the room. “The presence of a Starfleet vessel nearby would improve his chances.”

“Good point,” Horin added. “The Formidable could be deployed to the border. We’d be close enough to respond should the situation deteriorate. We could also see if we can patrol these so-called Orion shipping lanes.”

Levy leaned forward; her fingers steepled in thought. “The Formidable is a Defiant-class vessel. If we send it near the border, it could provoke the Romulan Free State. We’ve only just signed a small peace agreement with them. They won’t be bothered to ignore it if they saw the Formidable so close to their territory.”

McPherson smirked. “No need to worry. The information we have about Radcliffe’s involvement was provided to us directly by the Romulan Free State.”

Sturok lifted an eyebrow. “From a Romulan source?”

“It’s the result of our new agreements. In return for us providing security for their freighters to collect from the mines from the Remus fragment, they, in return, provide any Intelligence of concerns that they have along the border where we will make the exchange. Senator Valer himself passed along this report. Apparently, there’s some unease in the Free State about Briasyraa’s operations, as her trade routes overlap their space.” She shrugged. “The Free State has a vested interest in seeing this agreement work.”

Jaret’s lips pressed together thoughtfully. “Well, then, there’s little choice, is there?”

Horin’s gaze swept around the table, landing on Jaret. “If we’re agreeing to this, I’d still feel better knowing that we’ll be close enough to extract him if things go south.”

“Though I don’t see the Romulans having an issue with the Formidable, I am sure the Orions may,” McPherson remarked. 

Jaret considered the weight of the decision. “I understand, but you can have Hawkins for the mission only if the Formidable is on patrol nearby as a backup. Also, I get to tell him about this mission. No one else.”

McPherson inclined her head. “Understood, Admiral.” She picked up her PADD, glancing briefly at the assembled officers before striding toward the door.

As Horin and Sturok rose to follow her out, Levy remained seated, her gaze distant. Once the others had gone, she turned back to Jaret.

“You may have just signed Hawkins’s death sentence,” she murmured.

Jaret, expression sombre, looked away, fingers tracing the table’s edge. “I know, Dawn. But we have little choice. And I hope he can prove us all wrong.”