“This is not going to go well.”

Mason dropped into the chair behind his desk and spared a glance for the leanly-built captain opposite. “No, it is not.”

It was going to go about as well as any CO’s who had lost their boss and now had to report that to his boss. The bosses boss. And they were not going to be happy. 

“I told you we shouldn’t have taken Murphy,” RJ groused, arms folded over his chest. His uniform was immaculate and, for a change, his hair was tamed. He actually looked like an upstanding Starfleet officer. Emphasis on looked. But they needed that. Like really needed that. And more luck than either of them was likely to see in their lifetimes.

“I told you he’d get into trouble.”

“No, you did not,” Mason rumbled. “What you actually said was that you’d get the blame if he was killed, and get kicked out of the fleet.”

He checked the time. They’d both been ordered to be available for the call and the clock was counting down.

“Don’t flirt,” he ordered with a hard look as his console informed him of an incoming call. He tilted the screen so they were both in view, him sat behind his desk and RJ leaning against the built in shelves along the wall by the door. It meant the other captain was perched precariously, but it was his ready room, so he was getting the damn chair.

“Not going to,” RJ grumbled in a low voice. “Tried it with Barrington once. He threatened to space me.”

Mason arched an eyebrow. “How many senior officers have threatened to do that now?”

RJ frowned, counted on his fingers, looked down like he was contemplating taking his boots off as well, then shrugged.

“Upwards of twelve? But! I nearly got a date out of one of them.”

Mason shook his head just as the comm chirped.

Before either could reach for the small control console the face of Captain Varen Wyll appeared on the screen, his mane of thick black curls barely tamed beneath a thick pomade.

“I have barely read the mission report and I can already feel a headache coming on.” Across the quadrant, the senior officer rubbed his temples in furious circles.

“Could someone please give me the… and I hesitate to use this word… highlights.” Varen leant back in his chair, allowing the soft cushions to comfort his weary body.

Sat next to Varen, Barrington folded his arms over his chest, watching the two trouble-makers on the other side of the screen marshall their defence. It was quick, but from these two, he wouldn’t have expected anything else. Reese-Riggs could charm his way out of anything given enough time, but Mason was used to thinking on his feet, usually under fire. Two senior officers weren’t going to rattle him.

“The mission went sideways,” Mason admitted. “Which I take responsibility for. While we successfully recovered the stolen tech we’d been sent in for, resistance was greater than we anticipated and unfortunately, we lost track of Captain Murphy.”

“People lose track of hyper spanners, their favourite mug, puppies.”

Varen turned to Barrington on the screen, his dark eyes narrowing into two thin lines that hung precariously over an unimpressed curl of his moustache.

“Do you remember assigning a puppy to command Canterbury? I have a vague recollection of there being a rather strapping and handsome man who sat in the centre chair. Red uniform, four pips, a smile that could convince the Kai to part with their Jumja stick?”

There was a cough and a mutter from Reese-Riggs that could have been “…was a spanner.” before he yelped and disappeared off the screen. The movement was highly suspicious, and looked like his feet had been kicked out from under him.

“Apologies for that. We’ve had trouble with some of the antigravity systems since Frontier Day,” Mason said. “Sorry sirs, what were you saying?”

Barrington resisted the urge to shake his head and answered Varen’s question. “I do think I recall the captain you mean. Looked like he could have starred in a hair product commercial.”

“It is very well kept,” Varen muttered, running his hands through his own unruly mop of hair.

An awkward silence descended on the conversation. For all their ribbing Murphy’s disappearance was concerning, he was a good officer and dependable, even if he was full of frustratingly heroic tendencies.

“You secured the chip at least, we could have lost a great deal more.” Varen chewed his cheek, the mission was at least mostly successful. With a sigh he reached for a padd nearby and held it off-screen, his eyes darting back and forth between its hidden surface and the pair of officers as RJ’s moustachioed face reappeared.

“Do you have any leads where your lost puppy could be? Have you checked behind the couch?”

“The couch, the chair and behind the TV cabinet,” Mason replied. Then he nodded toward RJ. “We do have a few leads to chase up, courtesy of Captain Reese-Riggs’ family connections.”

“Follow the money,” RJ said, straightening up. “To that end I propose that I take the Canterb—“

“-I’m sure your new Captain will take all your proposals into consideration,” the senior officer interrupted as he offered a sideways glance towards Barrington. Whisps of barely contained smiles danced at the corner of the pair’s mouths.

The Bajoran man held up a hand as RJ began to mount a protest.

“Whilst I have no doubt in your ability to lead the crew of Canterbury in what would most likely to be an explosive search and rescue attempt,” Varen began.

RJ flinched but for once, considered discretion the better part of valour.

“Command feels that a more objective point of view might be necessary to improve the chance of success. Someone with a good nose and a very loud whistle.”

Varen leant into the screen, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“And if I may offer a small piece of advice gentlemen, flirting doesn’t work as well on her as it does on me.”

With a click the comm link disappeared, leaving the pair in the silence of the ready room.