Commodore Geronimo Fontana stood at the front of the squadron command room, facing the senior command officers from the Mackenzie Squadron sitting around the oblong table and the support officers sitting against the wall around the room. “Good morning.  This meeting is classified.”  He tapped ‌the console on the lectern, and the doors to the room locked.  “We received information from Tougun regarding the Orion Syndicate operations in the rimward.  Intelligence was aware of this, but not of the specific operation.”  Another tap of the console.  “Six months ago, slave operations began in the rimward.  Zephyr Squadron and the Mackenzie Division discovered the truth of this at the end of December.”

There was a wave of nervous shuffling across the room.  They all knew about it, but hearing it again had the same effect as if they’d heard it for the first time.  This wasn’t something you got used to hearing about.

The images on the screen changed as Fontana continued. “We have been asked to assist a task group within Starfleet to confirm Tougun’s data and identify targets.  The task group will then intercept, engage, and mitigate the Syndicate operation.”  The PADDs across the room lit up as they were unlocked.  “You will find the specific details regarding each ship’s orders on your devices.  Questions?”

Walton asked, “Why aren’t we being given Syndicate operations?”

Fontana’s face remained unwavering.  “The task group is trained and equipped to handle the Syndicate.  It is not a reflection of our people.”  He glanced around the room and found no other questions.  “Captain Ki will assist you on this mission along with several of her intelligence officers.  I remind you that this mission is classified.  Any deviation from these protocols threatens your and the task group’s success on this mission.  You are dismissed.”  The doors unlocked as he tapped ‌the console one last time.

“You’re not happy about it.”  Captain Park noted as she walked with her friend across the docking platform towards the USS Mackenzie.  They’d waited until they were off the station to discuss their mission.  Fontana had been unusually serious about the classified status of the meeting.

“Of course I’m not happy.  Fontana’s involved, and we don’t see eye to eye on the best of days.”  Walton sighed.  “I think we all want a piece of the action since we’ve had to witness it.  Feels like punching back would be the best kind of therapy.”  She could feel Park‌ side eyeing her.  “Yes. I know.  Bad psychology.”

 Park slowed at the intersection.  To the left, Mackenzie. To the right, her ship, the Perseverance.  She was still adjusting to the position of commanding officer, even on a small ship.  “You can’t always be in the action, Wren.  Sometimes we have to take the milk runs, or the diplomatic work.  I think you told me something similar to that back in my wilder days.”  She kept eye contact with her former mentor, who narrowed her own eyes in reply.  “I know.  I know.  I make no apologies.”

Walton kicked at the ground, annoyed.  “You learned something from all that stuff I told you.  I should thank you or something.”  She glanced down the gangway towards her command.  “I think I just felt when I got the Mackenzie back I’d get a bigger piece of the action.”

Park quietly chuckled.  “What’s that word you used with me all the time?  Patience?”

Walton rolled her eyes dramatically as a knowing grin slid across her lips.  “You’ve made your point, Park.  I suppose my diplomatic muscle needs a workout, anyway.”  She reached out and hugged her friend.  “Good luck, Captain Park.”

Park replied, “Same to you, Captain Walton.  See you out there.”  She watched Wren walk towards the Mackenzie dock, a quiet smile on her lips.  They had been through much between the two of them.  She realized that there was plenty more waiting for them out there in the rimward.