The Blackbird’s bridge was a cramped compartment at the fore of the ship. Like everything else aboard, it felt like the streamlined and utilitarian shadow of its counterpart on a larger, more traditional Starfleet vessel, with the pilot seated at the front, posts at the starboard and port side for weapons and operations respectively, and a single seat at the centre for the ship’s commander.

Rosewood slunk in only after pursuing sleep like a starving hunter whose prey had still slipped from between his fingers. But he and restless nights were old friends by now. Ranicus sat in the centre chair, and if she heard the door behind let him in, she didn’t react, deep in discussion with the tactical officer. He observed for a beat, stood in the low-lit chamber, listening to the chirrups of systems and the hum of the ship. A bridge should be the centre of a vessel and crew, knowing everything, dictating everything, but he was left instead with the impression this was merely somewhere to have a finger on the pulse. The heartbeat came from somewhere else.

‘You can sit, you know,’ hissed a low whisper from his left, and Rosewood turned to the Ops console. A Bajoran woman in a blue uniform gave him a nervy smile and nodded to the stool at an empty aft console. ‘She won’t be mad so long as she thinks you’re working.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant Falaris, though I am aware Mister Rosewood doesn’t have a bridge shift,’ came the cool, louder voice of Ranicus from the centre, though the XO didn’t turn around. ‘But yes, Commander, if you want to familiarise yourself with the ship, sit down and shut up.’

A lot of people were telling him to shut up, Rosewood thought as he scooted across on the spare stool. That wasn’t anything new, but he felt he’d done a lot less talking than he usually did to earn it. Still, he gave the Bajoran lieutenant a grin. ‘Busted,’ he whispered.

She visibly smothered a smile. ‘Sorry. Welcome aboard,’ she replied, just as quietly. ‘I’m Falaris Maive.’

‘John Rosewood.’

‘I know who you are. It can’t be easy being a new Rook.’

‘I’ve negotiated treaties with warring factions.’ Rosewood’s lips curled with an affectation of superiority. ‘I’ve eaten guys like Hal Cassidy for breakfast in conference rooms.’

‘I don’t think the commander serves himself up in conference rooms.’

‘You’re probably right.’ His eyes swept over her console, soaking in the displays and feeds. ‘I didn’t think a ship like this needed a dedicated computer systems officer.’

‘It doesn’t. The Rooks do. I’m Ops – comms, SIGINT, sensors, and, most important of all, I’ll be with you in the field. Remotely, I mean. Apparently.’

‘Apparently?’

Falaris shifted her weight. ‘The Rooks aren’t new. The crew is. This is the first deployment together.’

It was an odd posting for her, he thought as he looked her up and down. She was in her late twenties, and clearly highly trained if she could provide this level of remote support on delicate operations. After Frontier Day, there should have been starship captains gagging for a young, alive lieutenant with that skillset on their bridge. Then again, Rosewood suspected nobody aboard had a traditional career route.

But he didn’t know where he stood with the Rooks yet, so this made her the only person to give him a welcome of unqualified warmth. ‘Then you’re about to get your first taste of mission control, Lieutenant.’

They came out of warp a few hours later at the periphery of the Tau Mervana. As Rosewood watched the sensor display, the moment they arrived, the system lit up with a dozen contacts, ranging from small fighters to mid-sized patrol boats and a littering of larger ships. The majority had unique transponders, civilian ships passing by, but there was a clear and visible pair of clusters of associated ships, most of them clearly armed, military vessels of Romulan design. The struggle for control of Tau Mervana was not over.

‘Blue alert,’ Ranicus instructed crisply, and the bridge lights dimmed. The Osler’s passive stealth features relied on nobody painting them in the first place, so their entry point was close to one of the system’s outer planets. With a masked approach and keeping their power levels to a minimum, they could slide undetected towards the third planet that was their destination. Despite being a new team, they were well-drilled, Ranicus marshalling them like even traversing a star system was a matter of life and death. This far out in the chaotic Neutral Zone, it could well be.

Cassidy was on the bridge within seconds of their exit from warp, and arrived at almost the same moment Falaris put a finger to her earpiece, turning and saying, ‘Commander? Sensors and comms are picking up another ship in orbit of the third planet. It’s Starfleet.’

Ranicus turned first. ‘One of ours?’

‘Yes, ma’am. USS Liberty.’

Rosewood stood. ‘That’s Elara Galcyon’s ship. They’ve been on survey duty the last while; what’re they doing here? Are they in trouble?’

‘Not at all,’ confirmed Falaris, audibly confused. A moment passed as her fingers ran over sensor and comms controls. ‘Two birds-of-prey in proximity. Old Romulan ships, both IDing as independent, matching transponder codes for known separate warlords.’ Her eyes fell on Cassidy. ‘Commander, I think she’s in some sort of negotiation with them.’

He gave a frustrated exhale. ‘Of course she is. Starfleet doesn’t send any ships here so we can pick up a defector without the whole galaxy knowing, but some do-gooder captain stumbles on a problem and decides to chit-chat.’

‘I’m also picking up surface-to-orbit Starfleet transmissions. Looks like the Liberty has people on the planet; a lot of people.’

Cassidy had moved to the centre seat by now, and Ranicus stood over the shoulder of the tactical officer. ‘There’s a whole Starfleet deployment in the city,’ she said, reading sensors. ‘Commander, I think the Liberty’s dropped a peacekeeping or aid station here.’

Rosewood whistled. ‘Tau Mervana faction war’s been waging for months in its latest form. Or fifteen years, really. Captain Galcyon has got them to stop fighting and dropped a humanitarian presence? Impressive.’

‘Stupid is what it is. She drops resources here and the moment she’s gone, the warlords will just fight harder to take what’s left behind,’ Cassidy snarled. ‘And now we’ve got to get a defector out of here without everyone knowing Starfleet’s got her? Fucking white hats.’

‘If that subterfuge is ruined, why don’t we just contact the Liberty?’ Rosewood frowned, looking over. ‘They may have eyes on Verior or even Ireqah. We could have her beamed aboard in ten minutes before anyone has the chance to catch up.’

‘I don’t know Galcyon. And I sure as hell don’t know the five hundred people aboard her ship. They don’t get roped into a delicate operation just because we’re here.’ Cassidy turned to the front. ‘Mission stays the same, just now we avoid the Starfleet presence same as the Romulans.’

Falaris leaned over her controls. ‘I’ve monitored the comms and movement of the paramilitary forces, Commander, and picked out a route and place for us to set down outside of the city. From there, you can drive in overland. I’ve also identified a route.’

‘Good,’ Cassidy grunted. ‘Ranicus, get us down.’ He turned towards the door, gesturing for Rosewood to follow as he hit his combadge. ‘Cassidy to Rooks. Report to Cargo Bay 1. We’ll take the Nomad in. Throw field uniforms in the back.’

The Nomad was an armed reconnaissance and tactical vehicle, and Rosewood had seen it in the cargo bay on his arrival. Unlike the vehicles on most Starfleet ships, the Nomad’s basic design was Federation civilian, with modifications to bring it up to spec for the Rooks’ needs. Critically, Rosewood had seen no Starfleet markings on the body.

‘I know we’re a stealth operation and all,’ he mused as he followed Cassidy through the corridors. ‘But if there’s Starfleet officers here and we’re out of uniform and we get into a fight, there’s some armed conflict laws…’

‘Don’t give me that perfidy shit,’ Cassidy groaned. ‘You know better than that. What did you think this was, a tea party?’

‘I’m not here with ethical arguments, I’m here figuring out how we cover our asses.’

‘We cover our asses by completing the mission and not dying. That means we don’t stroll into the city announcing we’re Starfleet. But if we need to bypass Captain Galcyon and her Merry Fluffy Men, we throw on uniform jackets and pretend to be part of the relief crew. If you’re worried about wider political implications, Kid, that’s the great thing about this job: those are someone else’s problem.’ Cassidy gave him a sidelong look. ‘You’re not that side of the desk anymore. Here, you get your hands dirty.’

‘You think I didn’t get my hands dirty doing the ass-covering?’

‘Ink ain’t the same as blood.’

The other three Rooks waited for them in the cargo bay, all in hard-wearing civilian clothing providing padding, freedom of movement, and a lack of affiliation with Starfleet. Black base layers meant they could throw on the uniform field jackets in a pinch and assume the status of officers among the surface teams.

By the time they were assembled, Rosewood could feel the shudder of the deck underfoot as the Blackbird eased into the atmosphere of Tau Mervana III. ‘Smooth runnings,’ he mused.

Nallera gave a toothy grin. ‘Isn’t this bird a beaut? Handle her right and she could dance under a Galaxy’s nose unseen.’

‘That’s something of an exaggeration,’ Aryn said, raising a finger. ‘The ship’s passive capabilities -’

‘Learn imagery, Aryn, God,’ she groaned.

‘And all of it,’ cut in Rosewood, grinning, ‘keeps us hidden without upsetting the Treaty of Algeron.’

‘As if those treaties get followed out here,’ scoffed Cassidy. ‘We should be boarding one of those birds-of-prey and stealing their cloaking device. Why the hell do we follow these rules when dealing with this pack of warlords who don’t give a shit about what diplomats said two hundred years ago?’

‘Because T’Met cares what diplomats said ten years ago,’ said Rosewood.

‘Yeah, well, the Free State’s not here.’ Cassidy yanked open a door of the flat, angular Nomad. ‘And nobody they sent’s gonna be playing by the rules. Get in and buckle up.’