Once again, Flavia sat at the negotiating table, cloaked in a Starfleet field jacket. The actual disguise was Flavia’s uncharacteristically controlled manner of speaking; even her posture was more rigid. With each passing day that Taes allowed Flavia to pose as Vulcan Doctor V’lin, she knew the wound would cut deeper if Governor Solrem discovered the betrayal. And yet, Taes couldn’t bring herself to redirect Flavia. In the spirit of their joint mission, Starfleet was meant to be learning from the Romulan Free State as much as the inverse was true.

She was too curious to see what would happen.

“A gesture of respect,” Flavia said, nodding deeply to Solrem.

Flavia slid a small satchel across the table. Solrem opened the satchel’s flap, and a bundle of fresh herbs tumbled out. She rubbed one of the leaves between her forefinger and thumb.

“Kelithra?” Solrem asked.

“We never visited your homeworld, regrettably,” Flavia said, stressing the “your” for what was now, ostensibly, the Kazon homeworld. “Based on your descriptions of your favourite restorative herbs, these were the nearest approximations I could find in our squadron’s arboretums.”

Solrem curled her fingers around the herbs that escaped from the satchel, cradling them like something precious.

“You remember too much,” Solrem said.

Flavia blinked at Solrem with a reverence that communicated gratitude for Solrem’s appreciation.

She said, “While I favour a logical perspective, the emotional context of experiences provides depth of understanding. That is why the machines can never be trusted. We believe the Pralor have been manipulated into attacking you by the Vaadwaur. Few powers in this region have the technical mastery to fool the Pralor’s computers.”

Solrem had leaned closer with each exchange, but she shifted her weight when Flavia said that. She rolled her shoulders against the chair-back. The convivial warmth in her tone chilled.

“You’ve all spoken before about desiring our aid in fighting back the Vaadwaur,” Solrem said. She looked at Taes for the first time this session, as if suddenly remembering she was here too. Solrem’s gaze flicked between them, and Counselor Turro, seemingly looking for the invisible threads binding the three Starfleet officers.

“What would the Vaadwaur want with us?” Solrem asked dismissively.

“That’s what we need to understand,” Taes offered, “if we’re to protect one another.” She carefully positioned their goal as protection rather than rebellion, and their needs as one collective goal.

As previously agreed upon, Flavia took the exploratory lines of questioning. “What were your aims when the Pralor attacked you? They believe you were conducting experimental research.”

Solrem frowned and pulled the satchel of herbs closer to her chest. “We don’t have the capacity for frivolity. I am responsible for a large flotilla. Many other communities seek to travel in smaller numbers to avoid Kazon detection. They rely on us for resources: food, water and the like. We engage in trade with neighbours and we scavenge for resources. We don’t beg. We survive.”

Taes couldn’t decide if she was proud of Turro for better hiding his disdain for Governor Solrem, or if she was disappointed he couldn’t muster the resilience to offer a productive perspective to their discussions.

Now that they were in the safety of Taes’s private office in the Dockspire Waystation, it became evident that either option would have been a struggle for Turro. The walls felt claustrophobically tight in the small, utilitarian space. She wasn’t entirely sure if the glorified closet could contain the sheer might of Turro’s righteousness. It wasn’t an ideal starting point to develop a member of her senior staff, but it was a struggle she knew how to work with.

“I told you, captain,” Turro said, stabbing at the PADD with his index finger. “I told you Solrem would only agree to work with us in an exchange to give them power of force. Look at these ashes payments they expect before they’ll agree to face the Vaadwaur. Portable forcefield emitters, phaser drills, antimatter.”

Despite his quick escalation, Taes maintained an even presence. She scrolled through the list on her PADD. She intentionally spoke more softly, forcing Turro to pay close attention to her words.

“They also asked for water and clean blankets,” Taes said. “You’ve chosen the three items that fit your narrative from an exhaustive list of survival supplies. The simplest explanation is that they want anti-matter for their warp cores.”

“And it’s just as useful in photon torpedo warheads,” Turro countered.

Flavia dropped her own PADD in her lap. “Isn’t it peculiar that they’ve asked for antimatter but not for dilithium?”

“There you go. More proof of warhead lust,” Turro said, puffing out his chest in vindication. “Oppressive civilisations can’t be trusted in a fragile alliance that’s formed for the sake of war. They can only be trusted to receive a punch to the face.”

Turro shook his head, his eyes pleading with Taes. “Captain, you can’t trade parts of your pagh for more starships and empty promises.”

Taes gripped her PADD tightly, but hid it in her lap. For all of Turro’s concern about the Trabe, she hadn’t expected such a personal attack. She took a breath. She remembered being that lieutenant, disgusted by her leaders’ inaction during the Romulan evacuation. She remembered the kind of leader she needed back then.

Speaking clearly and succinctly, Taes answered, “Lieutenant, I already have. The alternative is extinction. You think survival is clean? Didn’t you grow up on the stories of how your parents and grandparents survived the Cardassians?”

His shoulders curling in, Turro shrank in front of Taes. He muttered, “My grandmother– you could tell– you could tell just from looking at her. She never truly came home from the rebellion. Bajor was living under centuries of occupation. Starfleet has the resources and the capabilities to choose better.”

“That’s the part I’m not hearing from you, lieutenant,” Taes said, putting some force behind her words now. Challenging him. She tapped her PADD on the edge of her desk.

She asked, “What is the better choice? Governor Solrem said she held the trust of four other Trabe carriers who could be persuaded to support our goals. All it would cost us is improving their quality of life. Otherwise, we leave the Trabe to fend for themselves, and the Vaadwaur will go after them again, leaving us with one fewer ally.”

Turro insisted, “They may claim to fight on our side, but they’ll never be our ally.”

“That’s not an answer,” Taes said, sinking back into her chair. This wasn’t only a leadership challenge for Turro, Taes desperately needed to know the answer for herself too. She had to wonder if this was all a folly. Was she leading her crew into battle and compromises for a Federation that may not exist anymore?

“You disagree with my methods, so I’ll let you decide, lieutenant. Do we engage in an exchange with the Trabe or do we leave them to die? I know you’ve read the Odyssey’s reports. You know what the Vaadwaur did to the Haakonians. What do you do?”

“I’m not trained for this,” he said quickly, defensively.

“You think I am?” Taes incredulously asked. “The Federation has been invaded. I don’t know if my decisions are right. I’m just doing something.”

“Even so, captain, you’ve had more experience than me.”

“Right now. What do you do?”

Turro raised his palms defensively, signaling he wanted this spiral of a conversation to slow down. “It depends. It depends on the Trabe’s true motivations. I need to understand them better.”

Shaking her head, Taes vocalised a “tut-tut”. Then, “Inaction is a choice, lieutenant. If you choose nothing, I tell the Rakosans that the Trabe are no longer welcome in this star system.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked, panicked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Taes asked, and now there was more bite to her words. Perhaps more than she intended. “You’re disgusted by our collaboration– by my collaboration with them. They’re fascists. Kick them out.”

“Wait, but what if they really die?  There are children on half of their vessels.”

“You chose Starfleet, lieutenant,” Taes said, putting all of the power, all of the choice, back into his own hands. “You could be counseling in a planetside wellness centre or a sleepy university, but that’s not what you wanted. Welcome to the bridge of a starship!”

Taes breathed in through her nose.

In a whisper of deadly calm, she asked, “What do you do?“