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Part of Caireann Station: Enemy and Bravo Fleet: Nightfall

Fugue

Conference Room, Caireann Station
May 2402
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“What makes us Starfleet? What are our shared ideals, and do we truly share them? Or are our protocols simply a compromise, something no one is entirely in agreement with, but has vowed to obey?”

— from Aldris Ceix personal log

The conference room was quiet. Chairs that were usually filled with department heads and their assistants were empty, as was the table that had a tendency to be cluttered with PADDs and mugs of steaming beverages.

The four individuals Captain Ceix had called into this meeting stood – arms crossed, sombre expressions on their faces, ready to jump into action at a second’s notice.

“Thirty minutes ago”, Ceix started, “We picked up a distress signal, originating from a Vaadwuar vessel.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Sh’shiquil and Keller, who already knew where this was going, remained quiet, gaze fixed on the Captain, and their minds already racing to make their points in the discussion that would inevitably ensue.

“The crew – a sole Vaadwuar from what our own sensor readings, requested sanctuary.”

“What?”, Doctor Trova asked, momentarily losing any semblance of professionalism.

“That’s what I thought.”, Sh’shiqil muttered.

Ceix raised a hand to stop here before she could say anything else. “He has lowered his shields, and provided us with invaluable information as to the fleet’s next movements. Now, we need to decide what we do with him.”

Sh’shiqil barely waited long enough to make sure that Ceix was done speaking. “And I stand by what I said before – absolutely not. This could be a trap. This most likely is a trap, and I am not willing to let us step into it.”

Trova turned to her, and nodded her assent, still too stunned to speak.

“He’s a war criminal trying to save himself.”, Sh’shiqil continued. “We can’t just dismiss what the Vaadwuar have done.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. “That Vaadwuar doesn’t just get to walk in and ask for forgiveness.”

Keller, whose lips had pressed into a thin line, inclined his head. “I don’t disagree. And I am not saying that we should trust him – but we can’t ignore the fact that he’s already provided us with ample information, and he promises more.”

“Then why isn’t he providing it?”, asked Trova, who had finally found her voice.

“Leverage.” Sh’shiqil shrugged.

“I agree with that.” Ceix pondered. “But I also agree with Keller’s assessment – from a tactical standpoint, there is value in anything he can provide.”

“We will need all the help we can get if we want to survive. There is no other way to put it.” Keller said.

“Surely there are other ways to retrieve that information.”, Eshrevi said quietly, and knew that she didn’t have to elaborate. There were plenty of ways to get information out of someone, and even if they weren’t Starfleet approved, they did work. And with so many lives at stake, she was willing to go there.

“We’re Starfleet. That means something – even now. Even in this situation.” Ceix hissed. His usually calm facade was cracking. No one blamed him. . “I do not have to remind you that executing or rejecting defectors violates everything we stand for.”

This time, Trova came to Sh’shiqil’s defence. “She isn’t wrong. And what about the refugees? What are you going to tell them?”

“He would be contained, of course.” Keller responded, slowly. He hadn’t thought about that. “And perhaps they do-…”

“They don’t need to know? You can’t contain this kind of information!”

“Still.” Keller insisted. “The tactical advantages-…”

Again, he was interrupted.

“And can you guarantee that we won’t have a lynch mob on our hands the second this makes rounds?” Trova asked.

“No.”, Keller admitted. “And I don’t trust him.” He looked to Sh’shiqil. “I want to keep him locked up and listened to. That’s different from trusting.”

“This is a mistake.”, Sh’shiqil repeated. Calmly, but the way her antennae pressed against her skull betrayed just how strongly she was feeling against it.

“I agree that it’s a risk – but a calculated risk. But I… don’t want us to lose what makes us Starfleet.” Ceix said, but the moment of vulnerability fell flat with Sh’shiqil.

“And I don’t want us to lose our lives.”

Trova shook her head. “I’m not liking this one bit… but if this is what you think is best… “ She paused. “But he doesn’t get to walk the halls. He’s brought straight to the brig.”

“Of course.” Keller nodded.

“He’s not here as a guest. He’s here because we need information.” He turned to Sh’shiqil. “I will let you personally oversee his confinement, if that puts you at ease.”

Sh’shiqil gave a curt nod. “It doesn’t. But yes, I will do that.”

“Then it is decided,” Ceix said and turned. They didn’t have the luxury to linger, or to draw out a discussion that would never end with all of them on the same page.

The others followed, slowly. Still not entirely believing that this – all of this – was really happening.