Stripping the office of what scant personal marks the Rooks had left in their weeks here left behind, Rosewood thought, a lot of beige. Late afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows that blocked off most of the hum of Alpha Centauri City beyond tried to pain the carpets and walls vibrant yellows and golds. Nothing could quite extinguish that classic, mid-twenty-fourth-century decor.

They hadn’t had much time to leave their mark, but there was somehow, Rosewood thought, plenty left to pack. ‘How many personal mugs did you bring?’ he grumbled at Nallera as he piled up a box.

‘They’re not all mine!’ she protested. ‘Q’ira keeps stealing them.’

The Orion’s eyes went big and innocent. ‘I’m not used to having personalised mugs.’

He gave her an accusing look. ‘Don’t play “I’m just a poor dancing girl, I never had nice things” with me.’

The expression grew to even more exaggerated heights. ‘But Commander, they never gave me shoes of my own, because with shoes I could leave –’

Nallera gave Q’ira a playful shove that still nearly knocked the much more slight woman off her feet. Even when she was laughing, Q’ira still had the grace to catch herself.

‘This is some sort of ethical violation,’ Q’ira insisted. ‘I bet I’m some kinda refugee somewhere.’

‘Didn’t you get the memo?’ Aryn didn’t look up from the PADDs he was shoving so tightly into a crate that Rosewood pitied the officer who’d have to carry it. Where the others were laughing, he was subdued, thoughtful. ‘That’s our stock in trade.’

‘What,’ said Nallera, ‘refugees?’

‘Definitely don’t trade refugees,’ added Q’ira.

The tension in Rosewood’s chest loosened. The two women weren’t fools; they knew what Aryn was grumbling about, but diffusing him had been almost artful.

It proved for nothing, though, as the doors slid open to admit Captain Takahashi and, walking beside him like a shadow, Cassidy, and all of Rosewood’s loosened knots went taut again.

Takahashi surveyed the Rooks with an even gaze, before giving a satisfied nod. ‘I thought I’d stop by before you disappear back into the void,’ he said lightly. ‘Offer my congratulations. And thanks.’

Rosewood rested a hand on the crate and glanced at Cassidy, but found him unreadable. ‘Always nice to end things on a high note.’

‘Yes,’ Takahashi said levelly. ‘We should discuss that.’ His look to Cassidy suggested the big man had not been appraised of what was about to come, sweeping him back into the mix of his team – back across the boundary. This was Takahashi’s show, and they were all the audience. Captive.

‘There have been discussions with Lieutenant Vaughn. It’s a tragic case.’ There was the slightest shake of the head, an expression of regret Rosewood found more than a little perfunctory. ‘We’ve brought in an expert from Starfleet Medical for an appraisal, and, in consultation with JAG, we are drawing up a sealed plea arrangement for a non-public sentence. She’ll get the long-term psychiatric rehabilitation she needs, in a Starfleet penal medical facility.’

Rosewood’s gaze flickered to Aryn, and found the other man unmoving. Neither would want to show their hand just yet. Rosewood swallowed. ‘So – no trial. No public exposure of what she did, or what her victims did.’

‘She’s a paranoid woman,’ Takahashi said regretfully. ‘She’s concerned what a public trial could lead to. And she’s right; if we begin pointing the finger at those who did anything but constantly and violently oppose the Vaadwaur occupation, where do we draw the line?’

Aryn shifted his feet. ‘The slippery slope fallacy -’

‘Can be left to the philosophers.’ Takahashi’s gaze went cooler as it landed on him. ‘JAG wants this. The suspect wants this. The public interest wants this, Lieutenant. Particularly considering that classified documents would almost certainly become public through discovery.’

It was Cassidy’s turn to straighten at this, seeing the writing between the lines. ‘What documents?’

Takahashi arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Commander Ingram’s report. The one whose existence was discussed by Lieutenant Vaughn; the one your team, Commander, used your emergency powers to requisition. Anything secured under such legislation would need to be handed over to Lieutenant Vaughn’s defence team. And then we don’t have a criminal trial on our hands; we don’t have justice on our hands. We have a public spectacle.’

For a second, Rosewood thought Cassidy was going to express confusion, his gaze flinty as he surveyed the Rooks. Then the big man shook his head. ‘We had to see what was true, and what she was imagining. As you say: she’s deeply paranoid.’

‘Indeed. Quite ill. And she will get the help she needs.’ Takahashi took a step back to the door. ‘Unfortunately, by falling prey to her paranoia, Commander, your team didn’t make this as neat as you might have. All’s well that ends well, but I confess I am a little disappointed. Have you spent too much time away from the division, do you think?’

‘Sir -’

‘That’s not a criticism,’ Takahashi lied easily. ‘You’ve done fine work for Commodore Rourke. Fine work liberating Alpha Centauri. I worry you’ve lost your edge, operating so much in the open, that’s all. I’m sure I can find you work that brings you back up to speed, doing what you do best.’

That made Cassidy pause. ‘And what’s that, sir?’

Takahashi gave a small shrug. ‘Whatever needs to be done, of course. Regardless of who sees it. Regardless of who judges.’ He inclined his head. ‘You know your options, Commander. Congratulations again to you and your team.’

There was silence not only until Takahashi had left, but for long seconds after. It was Aryn who broke it, hands thumping lightly down on the crate before him.

‘A non-public sentencing to a psychiatric care facility?’ he repeated, voice taut. ‘That’s -’

‘What the hell were you doing, pulling that list?’ Cassidy snapped, rounding on him. ‘Who told you to do that?’

Aryn straightened. ‘The list was key motivating evidence, a cornerstone of any case -’

‘I told him,’ said Rosewood, hands raised placatingly as he walked around the table. ‘Takahashi brushed us off when we mentioned it. I had him find it. And Falaris. They were operating on my say-so.’

‘And who told you to do that?’

‘My authority as team XO,’ Rosewood said simply.

Cassidy’s eyes flashed, and he glared between them. ‘In what world,’ he began, voice dropping to low and taut levels, ‘do you go behind the back of a senior Intel officer and then get off being indignant when a situation gets resolved non-publicly? Operate in back channels and you get back channels.’

Rosewood made a face. ‘Is finding a key piece of evidence back channels –’

‘Don’t be naïve, John!’ Cassidy barked. ‘Don’t act like you’re brand new, like you’ve not been operating as a spook for years, like we can’t all see the invisible ink everywhere on your service record. I don’t know where either of you get off coming into my outfit and playing Captain Starfleet; not with where you’ve been.’

Rosewood fell silent at that, but he felt the temperature from Aryn drop ten degrees.

‘Where I’ve been?’ the former Borg drone said lightly.

Cassidy set his jaw. ‘Yeah. Enough on the outside to know that things don’t work the way they tell you in academy fairytales.’

‘It’s not an academy fairytale to want to uphold the rule of law in Federation space, for Federation citizens, for Starfleet officers –’

‘Hey!’

They all fell silent as Nallera raised both hands and voice, eyes wide. When they looked at her, she seemed as surprised as anyone at her interruption. She dropped her hands. ‘This, uh. This ain’t productive. Boss, are you giving us a grilling for going behind your back, disobeying your orders, messing up team cohesion? Or are we having an argument about ethics?’

Cassidy was silent for a moment, staring at her like he didn’t know if he should glare. He took a sharp breath. ‘What you wanted out of this case,’ he said at last, voice low, ‘was never going to happen. Because there was no tidy win here. Takahashi’s avoided a public scandal that could rip Alpha Centauri’s recovery apart.’

‘While cutting off avenues for justice,’ Aryn said, also quieter.

Rosewood’s jaw tightened, and he drummed his fingers on the crate. ‘What’s justice,’ he mused, ‘after an occupation like this?’

‘I don’t know,’ Aryn admitted, ‘but I don’t think it’s brushing everything under the rug.’

‘You trust the public, Mac?’ Their eyes snapped around as Q’ira spoke. She was gentle, too, awkward. ‘We tell them how many major figures helped the Vaadwaur, and you think they draw a sensible line on who went too far, who didn’t go far enough? When basically everyone was just trying to stay alive and had no good choices?’

‘They had less bad choices,’ Aryn said stubbornly, straightening. ‘And the general public are only stupid because everyone treats them like they’re stupid; tries to manage what information they get, which then means they get bad information -’

‘What if they get told that the Mayor of Alpha Centauri City collaborated with the Vaadwaur,’ Rosewood began, voice careful, ‘and we know this because of… the sort of people who uncovered that information?’ Because a former Borg drone dug it up.

Q’ira, the only person in the room who didn’t know, gave an empty laugh. ‘Yeah, they’ll love it if they find out an Orion dancing girl was on the team that exposed Ben Ryan, big city hero.’

That too.

‘These things come out,’ Rosewood agreed miserably.

Aryn shot him a look. ‘This way, the list doesn’t.’

‘That’s not our decision to make,’ said Cassidy, calmer now he had to be the one to restore order. He folded his arms across his chest and ground his teeth together as he regarded them. ‘Next time, you include me when you make a decision like this.’

‘Would you have stopped us?’ Rosewood said carefully.

‘If we’re gonna make the move over to something more… something less clandestine,’ Cassidy said, his tone equally like he was picking his way through shattered glass, ‘then we can’t just do what we want, when we want, can we? There’ll be debriefings, mission reports, paper trails and records read by people who don’t just stick ‘em in a drawer.’

Q’ira wrapped her arms around herself. ‘Are we taking that move? Because Takahashi sounds like he just made us an offer to keep doing what we do best.’

‘What we do best,’ grumbled Aryn, ‘is help sweep a complete disaster under the rug. Both the collaborators and Vaughn’s murders.’

‘What we do best is keep people safe,’ insisted Nallera. ‘We go to places there are bad guys, we stop them from hurting people. Whether that’s here stopping Vaadwaur, or on the borderlands stopping Tal Shiar or rogue Changelings. Do we need to be super-secret to do that?’

‘Can we be super-secret to do that?’ pressed Rosewood. ‘We could do this investigation because of laws and loopholes that are getting shut all the time. Yeah, Hal, you’re right – I have been a spook for years. And for the last three years, I’ve seen that world shrink. Starfleet needed us now, in this absolutely crazy, unprecedented invasion. But what do we do next?’ He looked around the group. ‘Where do you think there are people who need protecting from bad guys? And where do you think Takahashi sends us? Where do you think Rourke sends us?’

Q’ira huffed. ‘I don’t think Rourke’s laying a seat for me at this fancy-sounding table.’

Cassidy stepped forward at that. ‘Wherever we’re going, we go as one. You can choose not to come with us, but no doors are getting shut. If Takahashi offers some of us but not all, I’m not taking it. Same for Rourke. You get me?’

‘Rourke will offer it to everyone,’ said Rosewood, ‘but I accept it… is more complicated than just formally being accepted back into the fold of more… traditional service.’

‘I’m tired,’ said Aryn, ‘of being forced onto the sidelines. Overlooked. And we get overlooked in the shadows. It’s not about credit. It’s about…’

‘Existing,’ Nallera finished. She had been worrying her lower lip as they all talked, and looked surprised at herself that she interjected.

There was a beat of silence. Q’ira folded her arms tighter. ‘Sounds like we’re trapped in the grey.’

‘Feel like we live there,’ Nallera agreed.

‘There are shades of it,’ said Rosewood. ‘Those shades matter.’

That felt more pointed than he meant, and for another moment, nobody spoke. Then Cassidy exhaled, and jerked his head to the packed crates.

‘We’re done here, regardless. Shipping back to the Sirius, regardless.’ Blackbird would be there. Whether they would board her was less clear. ‘Get some rest, or get work done.’

That was enough to break the spell. Slowly, the moved, gathering crates, remnants of any sign they’d existed in these offices, been part of a clean-up of a world that had been stained by war for the first time in its history. One by one, they drifted out. No resolution. Just motion.

Until it was only Cassidy and Rosewood left.

The big man didn’t say anything for a moment, wandering ponderously to the tall windows. ‘Takahashi showed me Ingram’s report,’ he said at last.

‘Right,’ said Rosewood. ‘Did he tell you what to think about it, too?’

Cassidy turned at that. ‘You think if I jumped exactly as high as Takahashi says, I’d have covered for you? Decided to stick this group together like it is? He does want to split us up.’

‘I imagine Q’ira’s a problem for -’

‘He wants rid of you.’ Cassidy’s expression twisted wryly. ‘You’re too noisy.’

‘I have been told that.’

‘I don’t get it. You’ve been in this life for years. Why are you now acting above it?’

‘I’m not,’ Rosewood insisted.

‘You got a taste of the life beyond, Diplomacy Chief on Endeavour, XO on Independence, hero of Izar, all that stuff – what is it, you just can’t go back?’

‘That’s not me, either! You think I wore that comfortably? When right after they’re pinning medals on everyone, I’m finding out my father…’

Cassidy watched him as he fell silent. Then he sighed. ‘Identity crisis never stops, huh.’

‘I thought going back to the shadows might be more comfortable,’ Rosewood admitted. ‘But it just feels… stifling. More lies. Not because we need to lie, but because it’s habit. I don’t like the light, either. It has its own kind of lies. You set up standards and you expect everyone to meet them, even yourself, and if you’re falling short, you just… play pretend. Like everything’s okay.’

There was another pause as Cassidy kept regarding him. ‘Your brother worked with the Vaadwaur.’

‘Or my brother did what he had to do to keep my family safe.’ Rosewood’s tone was self-mocking. ‘Yeah. Either I lie about it and cover it all up. Or I hold him to an impossible standard.’

‘There’s folks who’d say it’s a reasonable standard.’

‘There are folks who’d say he shouldn’t be judged.’

‘Which are you? Which are we?’

Rosewood worked his jaw for a moment. ‘This response is going to sound cowardly, Hal. But the truth is, ironically, like that, sometimes. Because my answer is “I don’t know.”’

‘Sure, but -’

‘I don’t know, I can’t tell you what to do. You’ve heard from me. You’ve heard from all of us.  There’s no prevailing wisdom. No clear path. Just… it’s fear, isn’t it? Fear of who we can be. Fear of what we will be. Fear of what we’ll be made to be. But no matter what, a choice has to be made.’ Rosewood nodded at him. ‘By you.’

Cassidy’s gaze turned surly. ‘Thanks.’

‘Perils of command. But you did make a couple of important choices already. Not selling me and Mac out to Takahashi. Committing to keep all of us – me if we take up Takahashi. Q’ira if we take up Rourke. You made the best choice you could already: putting the team first. And that’s what’s going to help you make the right choice.’

‘Not what’s good for me,’ Cassidy mused, ‘or even what you all want. But what’s best for the team?’

‘Someone has to put us first, after all. We’re not even very good at putting ourselves first. So, quick-fire question, Hal. Gut instinct.’ Rosewood looked him in the eye. ‘What’s it gonna be?’