Vice Admiral Belvedere was in the midst of reading a promotion recommendation for a junior officer in the maintenance section when he, along with everyone else in the Fourth Fleet’s command structure, received Vice Admiral Beckett’s warning to “trust only the Fourth Fleet.” The Breen were always causing trouble, as Belvedere knew from his experience during the Battle of Barzan—the only major battle he had participated in during his decades-long career. The last thing the Breen situation needed was the addition of a Dominion fleet on top of it. He still had to sigh, though.

“Must we be so melodramatic?” he muttered as he dismissed the message. He tapped the button his desk to summon his aid and stood up to face the window. A lot of things would need to be done to get the station ready. He heard the door open. “Inform all departments to implement Security Directive Sierra-Bravo-Zero, Mr. Janssen,” he ordered.

“Err. Right away. But… what is that?” a somewhat-familiar, sheepish voice responded. Belvedere turned around and pursed his lips when he saw Ensign Scott Bowens standing there rather than his aid, Lieutenant Commander Janssen. On his first day on the station over a year ago, poor navigation had led Bowens to walk straight into Belvedere’s office, and he’d confused him for his aid at first that time, too. “You might not remember me, sir. I’m—”

“Ensign Scott Bowens. Brother to Commander Harper Bowens. I remember you, Ensign. I’m assuming because I pressed this button and then you appeared… you’re not just wandering into my office?” Belvedere asked, pointing to the intercom.

“No, sir. Mr. Janssen started his shore leave today,” Bowens said, swallowing nervously. “That security protocol sounds serious, though… you know… with a ‘zero’ and all. Should I recall him?” he asked, looking almost hopeful at that idea.

“Security Directive Sierra-Bravo-Zero originated during the Dominion War. It calls for enhanced biometric and physical screenings of everyone entering or leaving the station. Just inform the first officer, and he will take care of it,” Belvedere said.

Bowens looked nervous again, and Belvedere scoffed.

“There is a limit to which your befuddlement is amusing, ensign,” the admiral muttered. He tapped his commbadge. “Attention all department heads, this is the Admiral. Implement Security Directive Sierra-Bravo-Zero immediately and report your progress to Captain Reyes,” he ordered.

Bowens smiled sheepishly. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Oh, you’re English… Tea?”

“Ask Janssen to return from shore leave,” Belvedere said.

“Right. Got it,” the young man replied, happy for an excuse to bolt.

The door opened, and Bowens was about to leave, but he backed away and did an odd combination of bow and curtsey. A moment later, Admiral Liam Dahlgren, the Fourth Fleet’s Deputy Commander, stepped through. Along with him was Vice Admiral Elizabeth Hayden, Commandant of the Fourth Fleet Academy. Bowens looked at the two of them and his mouth flapped slightly as he clearly considered offering them a beverage as well, but he failed to make any sound.

“That will be all, Ensign,” Belvedere said, prompting the young man to scurry out of the room. “Admirals, what can I do for you? I hear I’m only supposed to trust in you now.”

Hayden snorted, but Dahlgren didn’t react either way to the quip.

“Good, you read the message, then,” Dahlgren replied. 

“And initiated higher security levels.”

“You’re a step ahead of me, then,” Dahlgren said, offering a genuine, handsome smile that made Belvedere want to distrust him even more. “The Calliburn and Susan B. Anthony are leaving within the hour. Both of them will need their crews supplemented from the starbase.”

“Exeter will also be departing with a contingent of cadets and junior officers,” Hayden added.

“Is the situation really that serious to need two flagships and a training ship pressed into the fray?” Belvedere asked, his brow furrowing.

“We hope that it won’t be—and the cadets will be operating purely in a support role at Farpoint—but this is an all-hands-on-deck situation. We need any ships here in port repaired and sent on their way. Which is why I stopped by in person to tell you we’re going to ask you to do more with less,” Dahlgren explained.

Belvedere nodded. “I appreciate that, Admiral. But don’t worry—Starbase Bravo will see the job done.”