Commander Bema Saberwyn was sitting alone in a lounge booth staring at the PADD in his hands. On the table in front of him was a cold, half-eaten meal, sitting forgotten as he lost himself in his work. He didn’t even notice that the ship’s doctor, Lieutenant Sriarr M’Ress had dropped into the booth opposite him for several minutes, and he actually jumped a little when the Doctor spoke. “Good book, Bema?” 

Bema put his PADD down and rubbed his eyes. “Oh yes, riveting stuff. Starfleet Command sent through the files from the Winslow’s last mission before she disappeared.”

“And what have you found out?” Sriarr asked, leaning onto the table with his elbows. 

 “Nothing useful.” Bema replied with a defeated tone. “Anything that might have been useful has been redacted or sealed, and Starfleet won’t give me the authorization to unseal them.”

“So we’re headed into this completely blind.” asked the Doctor with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass.

“Essentially, yes.” Bema replied, standing. He collected his dishes and walked them over to the replicator, returning with a fresh drink in his hand. As he slumped back down into the booth, Sriarr cocked his head, and his ears flicked in the way they always did when he was assessing a patient. 

“You don’t like this assignment,” he said after a moment. 

“Do you?” Bema asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Garion and Craig are beside themselves.” Sriarr replied. “And Scott seems intrigued at the very least.” 

“Garion is an engineer, and Craig is a scientist. They’re just excited about the chance to run their scans and tests.” Bema said. “And Scott is just doing his job, but you know how he enjoys a good mystery. I personally prefer the ones that don’t end with us floating frozen in space.” 

“Do you really think it will come to that?” Sriarr asked, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. 

“We are headed into an unmapped region of space, with no idea as to what we are going to find there, and orders not to say anything.” Bema said in a matter-of-fact kind of way. “I think it would be foolish not to be prepared for it, at the very least.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Sriarr asked softly.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Bema said, shrugging his shoulders. “I think we are digging up some bullshit Starfleet wanted to keep buried, and that worries me.” 

“We’ve got a good crew.” Sriarr said. “If things go sideways we’ll be ready, just like always.”

“Shit always goes sideways with us, Doc.” Bema said before he tipped his glass and emptied it. “It’s like we’re on a treadmill, and the stop button is broken.”

The lounge speakers were playing another of Captain Bowman’s old jazz songs as Lieutenant Commander Vail O’Donnell returned to her seat carrying an ice cream sundae. She sat down in the booth across from Lieutenant Tom Sargent, the Erikson’s Security Officer, who was sitting in front of a half eaten plate of raktajino glazed roast, picking at it with a furrowed brow the way he always did when his mind was elsewhere. 

“Analyzing your potatoes again?” Vail asked with a playful smile, “I think they’re starting to lose confidence.” 

“Sorry, I’m just… thinking.” Tom replied, with a soft laugh.

“You’re thinking about the Winslow, aren’t you?” Vail asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yea, kind of.” Tom replied, pushing his plate away from him. “I’m thinking about the kind of stuff that makes a Starfleet ship disappear. This mission is setting my teeth on edge.” 

Vail took a bite of her sundae and watched him as the ice steam melted in her mouth. “You know, I actually kind of enjoy these kinds of assignments? At the very least they’re always entertaining.” 

“Maybe.” Tom muttered, “They’re also never good.” There was a pause, filled with the clinking of cutlery on dishes and murmured conversations of other patrons. 

“You’re worried this is some kind of setup.” Vail said after a moment. 

Tom looked up at her, and his intense brown eyes softened when they met her green ones, as they always did. “You’re a tactical officer. Tell me I’m wrong.” he said softly. 

“I wish I could.” she replied with a wry smile, “but we’re flying into a sector we know almost nothing about, and command hasn’t said anything beyond ‘figure out what happened’, which is less of a mission and more of a shrug and a set of coordinates.”

“I just don’t like feeling like bait.” Tom said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. “And I hate it when my people are bait, but especially when those people include you.” He reached across the table and took her free hand. 

“Are you getting mushy on me, Lieutenant?” Vail asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“I am allowed to be mushy when we’re not on duty.” Tom replied with a smile. 

“I’ll promise to keep my head down this time.” Vail said softly, giving his large, rough hand a loving squeeze.

“See that you do.” Tom said. “I’d be far less charming if something were to happen to you.” 

Vail gave a playful laugh. “This is charming?” she asked. Tom laughed out loud, and the uneasy tension broke a little. She squeezed his hand again, harder and longer this time. “We’ll get through it together, Tom, just like we always do.” 

Tom nodded. “I just wish we had a better idea of what we were really walking into.” Vail smiled sweetly at him, then leaned over the table and took his face in her hands. She kissed his face a few times, then settled back into her seat and finished up her sundae. Feeling his spirits lighten, Tom ate the last of his meal, as the pair shared the events of their day. They left the lounge together arm in arm, both feeling better for the other’s company. 

Scott was standing in his quarters staring out the windows into the black of space as stars that stretched into lines flew past, and his own tired face was reflected back at him. He didn’t need to turn around when the door opened, he already knew who it was. There was a charge that followed her around, and he could feel it, even without looking. “I was hoping you’d come by.” he said with a smile, as Dathasa’s face appeared reflected in the window beside him. 

“You know,” She replied, moving towards him, “Brooding alone is a dangerous habit.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not alone anymore, then.” Scott said. Dathasa moved in behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“What’s filling your mind, Scott?” she asked softly. 

Scott heaved a heavy sigh, and gently pulled away from Dathasa’s arms to sit down on the sofa that sat against the wall under the window. “I’ve got 138 people under my command, and we’re flying blind into an unknown sector. It’s a gamble I’m not really sure I’m comfortable making.” 

Dathasa dropped to a crouch so she could still be eye level with him, and took his hands with hers. Her icy green eyes filled with concern as she looked into his face, and recognized the worry he was carrying there. “Then why are we going?”

“Because we’re Starfleet, Dath.” Scott said, smiling faintly. “It’s what we do.”

Dathasa didn’t smile back, instead she sat down on the sofa beside him, and took his face in her hand, turning it to face her. “You’re worried about your crew,” she said gently, “but you should be worried about why we are going in the first place.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Go on.” 

“Since when does a mapping and survey mission require communications blackout?” She asked, seriously. “A survey mission which just happens to include a mysteriously missing starship?”

“You think Starfleet knows what’s out there?” He asked. 

“I think they suspect what is out there, and they don’t want to admit it, which is worse.” Dathasa replied. “Whatever this is, it’s a secret, and secrets are rarely kind.” She leaned in gently, until her forehead rested against his. “Let’s just get this over with, and go home. Together.” she said softly. 

“Always.” Scott replied. They sat like this for a while, foreheads touching, totally lost in the moment. She picked his face up, and kissed him sweetly on the lips before she stood, and crossed the room to the replicator. “Two cups of hot chocolate, please.” She turned back to look at Scott, with that roguish glint back in her eyes. “With a shot of bourbon.”

In the early hours of the morning, the low pulsing hum of the ship’s engines were the only sound inside the captain’s quarters. Pale, diffused light from the walls filled the cabin, casting shadows across tangled bedsheets and bare skin. Scott woke first, opening his eyes slowly to the stillness of the room, the gentle weight of Dathasa’s arm draped across his chest, and the warmth of her body pressed against his own. Her quiet, relaxed face and deep, steady breathing told him she was still asleep. He didn’t want to move, choosing to take in this rare moment of vulnerability rather than spoil it. Slowly, he reached his hand up and brushed the hair gently over her pointed ear, a content smile on his face. 

The comm panel chirped, sharp and insistent. Bridge to Captain Bowman.

A soft growl from his chest told him Dathasa was now awake. “It’s like they know.” she muttered, her voice gruff from sleep.

With a sigh and a chuckle, Scott tapped the combadge on his nightstand. “Go ahead, Number One.”

Sir, we’ve arrived at the outer limits of the sector, and we’ve picked up a signal on long range sensors. It’s severely degraded, but it looks like it’s a signal fragment from one of the Winslow’s sensor buoys.

With another sigh, Scott swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m on my way Commander. Hold position until I get there.” 

Affirmative Captain, bridge out. Bema replied. 

Dathasa sat up behind him, pulling the bed sheet around herself as he pulled on his uniform undershirt. He paused for a moment, leaned down and brushed her hair out of her face. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Mhmm” she answered with a little nod, the sleep now gone from her eyes, “I’ll be right behind you, Captain.” He kissed her quickly on the forehead, then crossed the room to the chair where his tunic had been tossed over the back of it. He couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder as Dathasa got up out of bed and reached for her own uniform. With great restraint, he tore his eyes away from her and left his quarters for the bridge, straightening his uniform as he went. The doors to the turbolift swooshed open, and Scott stepped inside. 

Minutes later, the doors to the bridge opened with a soft hiss, and Scott strode purposefully into the middle. Bema dutifully leapt to his feet to vacate the Captain’s chair.

“Status report, Number One.” Scott said as he sat down. 

“Largely unchanged, Captain.” Bema replied. “We are holding at the outer edges of the sector, and we have located the sensor buoy. It’s deep in the sector, Captain, near a planet.”

“That must be the planet Captain Wagner was talking about.” Scott said, “Helm, set a course for that buoy, warp three.” Scott tapped his combadge. “Bride to Commander Cruikshank.”

Go ahead, Captain. Came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Craig Cruikshank, the Erikson’s lead Science Officer. 

“Commander, you might as well begin the mapping operation.” Scott replied, “We are headed towards an old sensor buoy left behind by the WInslow, but I don’t feel the need to waste the trip.”

Affirmative Captain. Beginning the cartographic operations, now. Craig answered. 

The bridge doors opened again, and Dathasa walked onto the bridge, carrying two steaming mugs that smelled strongly of coffee. She came to a stop standing beside Scott’s chair, and handed him the mug, before taking her post at the tactical conn. Bema caught the captain’s eye from his seat on the right, and beamed, tapping the side of his nose with a finger. Scott laughed and shook his head.

“Captain,” Bema said after a moment of collecting himself, “Should I call Tom and Vail to the bridge?”

“Not yet, Commander.” Scott replied, grinning even more widely and looking over at Dathasa, who he could swear flushed slightly, “Someone should be able to sleep in.”