A short time later, the ship was at warp and Rosewood headed for the conference room Aryn had directed him to. It looked like standard-issue Starfleet furniture had already been stripped out, low and comfortable seating set up in a circle around a central holoprojector. Four people were waiting for him: Cassidy and Aryn, and two women. The first was one of the broadest women Rosewood had ever seen, casual in a tank top that showed off muscular arms. She bounded to her feet and gave him a handshake that could crush bones but was still, accompanied by a grin, the warmest welcome he’d had so far. When she introduced herself as Chief Nallera, Rosewood thought of Klingon acid punk, and it all made sense.

The other, a wiry woman a little older than him, sharp-featured and precise in bearing but dressed down in a spacer’s leather jacket, was Jessa Tiran, and she gave him a rather more appraising look than Nallera. She did, at least, offer him a seat, and left him feeling like he’d met a fellow professional rather than just professional judgement.

‘Alright, we done with the love-in?’ Cassidy grumbled as Rosewood sank onto one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs. He looked Rosewood up and down. ‘I see you figured we were staying at a beachside bar.’

Aryn had been right, it seemed. Rosewood gave a toothy smile. ‘I dress for the occasion, and you made this job sound so fun, so…’

Tiran sighed as Cassidy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Hal. The job, Hal.’

Cassidy worked his jaw for a moment. Then snapped away and turned to the holo-projector. ‘Right.’ A thumb-press of the small PADD in his hand brought the display to life, the sphere of a blue-gold planet shimmering into existence. ‘We’re headed here: Tau Mervana, old Neutral Zone. Mostly Romulan refugee population, but it’s close to the Free State border. It’s also been ground zero in a power struggle between local warlords who want the industrial replication facilities Starfleet set up twenty years ago. It’s volatile, dangerous, and factionalised, but none of that’s our top concern.’

Tiran eased into a chair next to Rosewood. ‘What is our concern, then?’

‘We’re here to pick up a defector from the Free State.’ As Rosewood watched, eyebrows went up around the room, and Cassidy seemed to relish having his team on tenterhooks. ‘Tau Mervana isn’t the ideal meeting place, but this guy crossed the border to meet up with one of our contacts on the planet. Now he needs extracting. We grab him, bring him back to Federation space, and all them juicy state secrets are ours.’

Aryn twirled a stylus between his fingers as he listened. ‘Why us? Why not a starship?’

‘The higher-ups would like it if the Free State didn’t know for sure we had him. And they won’t let him go lightly – a starship shows up in orbit of Tau Mervana for no good reason, and people looking for this guy will put two and two together. We show up nice and quiet, set down, pick him up, and we’re gone, ideally before anyone’s any the wiser.’

Nallera leaned forward, elbows on her knees. ‘And we’re tooled up and ready if anyone is the wiser, right, Boss?’

‘Right,’ said Cassidy, and Nallera beamed. ‘And even if nobody’s on his tail or ours, we’ve got a city that’s an active warzone by last accounts. Not to mention that if locals catch wind of what’s going on, they might want to curry favour with T’Met and do something stupid. Walk softly, and carry a big stick, like usual, people.’

Rosewood clasped his hands in front of him. ‘So who’s the target? Or is that too super secret squirrel classified to know before we get there?’

Cassidy rolled his eyes. ‘No point in that, Kid. Target’s why I reckon the brass decided they want you here.’ He thumbed his control again, and the holographic projection changed from the gently spinning planet to the image of a stone-faced Romulan male. ‘Introducing you to Ireqh, former Undersecretary of Defence on T’Met. A man with unprecedented access to top level governmental and military plans, and information on the Free State’s trade and diplomatic priorities. An economic and military powerhouse.’

‘Ireqh.’ Rosewood’s eyebrows hit his hairline. ‘I met the guy once when I was in the detachment in Sector 315. Trade dispute; he was one of the only Free State guys who wanted to get a resolution instead of posturing.’

‘He cited that negotiation when he reached out to us,’ said Cassidy, expression pinching. ‘Said it showed his good faith. That he could work with us. And the way the Tal Shiar tried to kibosh the whole thing showed why he couldn’t stay. Guess you made an impression. So don’t get any big ideas about your skills getting you in the team, Kid; you’re here to be a pretty face so we can bring in Ireqh more easily. Nothing more.’

As ever, Rosewood met opposition with a sunny smile as he leaned back in the briefing chair. ‘I don’t know, Cassidy. Neutral Zone world in the midst of a warlord power struggle with a Romulan defector waiting for pickup before the Tal Shiar catch up with him? I think there’ll be a bit more for me to do.’

Glancing between them, Nallera shifted her weight. ‘You said he’s met a contact. Who’s this guy? Agent or officer trapped in a bad place?’

‘Local fixer and SAPINT asset.’ Cassidy shook his head. ‘Name of Verior. Former Romulan border officer, went AWOL during the crisis, but we’ve used him a few times and he’s loyal to his own stability and to being paid, and hates the Free State. I’ve worked with him before.’

‘That’s imperfect,’ mused Aryn. ‘But this is the Neutral Zone. Imperfection’s baked in.’

Cassidy grunted. ‘We’re hitting this hot. Top speed for now, then we go in quiet so nobody spots us. We’ll be there inside twenty-two hours. Get rack time, sort your gear, nothing fancy. Dress to blend in, be ready for trouble. Jessa, get the kid ready.’

Cassidy left, and Aryn and Nallera soon wandered out after, entrenched in what sounded like a dispute over if the interesting tempo of Klingon acid punk actually mattered. Rosewood looked up at Tiran, who had stayed still, arms folded across her chest, waiting for the others to go. With ash-blonde hair tied practically back and visible lines on her face, she looked like she’d been about the galaxy and knew how to handle herself. He just wasn’t yet sure what the right way to handle her was.

‘Don’t mind Cassidy,’ Tiran said once the doors shut, a softer tone to her voice. ‘You’re new, we’re going into a situation with a lot of unknowns, and it does feel like the brass transported you in just to appease the target.’

‘Figures.’ Rosewood stood and shrugged. ‘Is it an official Rook responsibility to insist Cassidy isn’t as much of an asshole as he comes across, or do you guys just volunteer for that? Because if it’s essential, has he considered not being an asshole?’

‘I think he’s given that serious consideration before rejecting it.’ Wryness tugged her lips. ‘Get in the field with us. Have our backs. You’ll be settled in soon enough. Assuming, of course, that’s what you want.’

‘So you think I’m a tourist, too.’

‘I think I don’t know why you’re here. Don’t pretend we’re the problem for recognising it’s a strange move, Commander.’

‘Maybe, but where I come from, people are given a chance to fail before they get treated like the problem.’

‘We’re not where you come from.’ Tiran shrugged. ‘Here, failing even once means death. We can’t afford to be so loose with our trust. You have to earn it. Prove you’re here for the right reasons, and you’ll be fine.’

‘Don’t worry about my reasons.’ He looked to the door. ‘Cassidy said you should set me up with field gear.’

‘I don’t worry about your reasons because I need to know them,’ said Tiran, but when she got to the door, she glanced over her shoulder. ‘It’d just be good if you knew them.’