Jameston walked through the inviting doors of transporter room five, mindful that there was a security detail shadowing him at the end of the hall just outside. He remained particularly uncomfortable concerning the Romulan commander’s presence on board his ship–his new ship at that–and curious as to what sub-topics Senav wanted to discuss. With a directive to the ensign at the controls, Commander Senav soon materialized on the deckplates of the Eternity.

“Welcome to the USS Eternity, Commander Senav,” Jameston greeted as formally as he could, letting the Romulan know that he understood the significance of the matter. Senav looked around, seemingly inspecting.

“What? No entourage?” he grilled. He got a leery expression on his face. “And no...security?”

Jameston smiled. “I thought you would appreciate a bit of privacy,” he evaded. Gesturing with his left hand, Jameston and the commander began strolling out the double-wide doors of the transporter room into the soft-gray carpeted halls of the Eternity. Exiting to the left, the two men strolled at a leisurely pace towards the turbolift, which happened to be at the opposite end of the corridor as the security detail. Startled and confused, the officers looked at the captain as he glanced back. All Jameston did, however, was hold up his index finger and wag it back and forth. They understood the inference. They were to remain at their posts and keep tabs on the pair via ship’s internal sensory logs.

As they entered the turbolift, turned and let the doors slip closed, Jameston lifted his head and called out, “Observation deck.” There was no reason to lift his head, of course. The computer could just as easily have heard him had he kept his head level, or even down, for that matter. The lift instantaneously responded, gliding first sideways, then up, then seemingly forward. The steady, audible pulse of the lift was the only noise.

As they stepped out of the lift with the hiss of the doors, they walked through another set of doors. Doors that were brown instead of metallic silver or gray. Behind those doors, the two men were greeted by an inordinately long spaceport window, one that, interestingly enough, displayed the lead and right flanking Romulan ships in warp next to them. Watching the stars streak by, it almost seemed to Jameston as though Senav derived comfort just from seeing his own ship. Jameston politely cleared his throat, a signal that the conversation was about to commence.

“Commander Senav, I must confess I’m curious. If you really think that the Federation orchestrated and in so doing condones these acts of mass homicide and terrorism, then why are you here? Why not simply demand justice from the Federation, or declare war, or do anything but what you’re doing now?” Jameston expressed his curiosity.

Senav inhaled deeply, holding his breath and puffing out his chest, still gazing at the stars streaking by them. His facial expression was troubled, like that of a man who carried too many burdens. “My dear Captain,” he started, “it is not simply a matter of justice; of right and wrong; of good and evil. This is a matter of individuals. Romulan individuals. Federation individuals. Many innocents have already lost their lives, and at the hands of those who deserve to lose theirs. But let me tell you what does not deserve to happen,” Senav continued. “What does not need or deserve to happen is for more innocent citizens of the Empire to lose their lives...for nothing. You see, Captain Jameston, I will not run wildly and recklessly into an unjustified war. We will investigate your Starfleet. We will understand and reconstruct what took place. And at the end of the investigation, we will report back to the Senate and they will decide what action to take.”

Jameston considered this for a moment before replying, almost with a grim smile. “So what you’re saying is, you think there’s some other explanation...but you still think that Starfleet is responsible.” It was a statement, not a question. “You’re not a man of war, but you are a man of justice. Everything in you right now wants to take action now, to get to the bottom of this now.” Jameston circled around him to the other side as Senav stared on, silent. “But your superiors feel otherwise. They’ve told you that this is just a formality, a justification, didn’t they?”

Senav seethed under his blank exterior, and Jameston could see it. “You walk a fine line, Captain,” he whispered. He turned to face Jameston for the first time since they had entered the observation deck. “While it is true that I am not a man of war, an injustice has, as you say, been committed. My people must react to this. I must carry out their orders. I know what is right, and what is wrong. I also know that several thousand people are dead because someone else couldn’t see the difference. I assure you, I will not let that entity make the same mistake again!” he accentuated.

Senav softened, if only modestly, and returned his face towards the window. Jameston gazed outward with him, wondering. Wondering what conflicted emotions the Romulan was having. Wondering what he was hiding. Wondering what the Senate planned to do about these events. Wondering how Jameston himself was going to react when this was all said and done. Senav opened his mouth to speak.

“Captain Jameston, I must say, I am impressed with your insight. Wisdom is a quality far too lacking in peoples of the galaxy today. But wisdom,” he quieted down, his voice turning grave, “is no supplement for retribution.”

Jameston turned his head to look at the bigger Romulan officer to see if that should be taken as a perceived threat. But Senav was still standing there, unmoving. So there they stood and continued talking, mostly small, polite and diplomatic conversation. And the Warbirds, along with the stars, streaked on outside the window.

***

The remainder of the five-day journey to Tulannis V went by without incident. There was a fair amount of stress, of course, but nothing became of it. After Kiva had brought the Eternity to a stop, Jameston stood up from his chair and promptly ordered, “All senior staff members to the conference room.”

After each of the seven senior officers, including Jameston, were seated, he proceeded to brief them on what the mission was. Each face at the table wore an expression of a serious calm, as if even though they knew fully the dangers that lie ahead, a serenity had been granted them that they had not previously possessed. “Yang, McKelley, Clayden, and Dr. Bashir, I’ll need each of you to go on the away team to the planet’s surface,” Jameston started. Each of them nodded in understanding, except for McKelley, who nodded but looked slightly uneasy about working with Yang.

Jameston turned to the other side of the table to face his two remaining officers. Kiva, as always, had something resembling a polite scowl, if that were possible, as Jameston turned his gaze towards him. Smyth looked expectantly at Jameston. He cleared his throat, pulling on the collar of his tunic. “Mr. Kiva, I will require you to remain here, to pilot the ship out of a jam–if necessary,” he cautioned. Turning to Smyth, he added, “You will command the Eternity during the away team’s mission, and I will accompany and lead the away team itself.”

Smyth clearly looked uncomfortable with this turn of events. “Sir, if I may say so, the bridge is the place for the Eternity’s captain, not an away mis-“ Jameston cut her off abruptly.

“I’m afraid this is not open to debate, Commander Smyth. I understand and even sympathize that it’s an exec’s duty to lead away missions and protect the captain, but in the interests of diplomacy and the charge Starfleet has laid on my shoulders, I feel it necessary to be in attendance,” he finished. She appeared to be considering his words as though they were only advice that she could either accept or reject. “I didn’t say you have to like it, or that you can’t do what your instinct tells you. But I am asking you to trust me. Besides, the Eternity needs someone who can handle her,” he added.

Smyth acquiesced, understanding the captain’s position and knowing that ultimately she would have lost the battle anyway. “All right, sir. But I will be requesting that you carry a sidearm and two security officers with you,” she said outright.

Jameston stood up, prompting the others to rise from their positions as well. “Suggestions noted, Commander. I will be carrying a sidearm, in fact, but I’m afraid a small security detail will be unnecessary as long as we have our security chief Yang there with me,” he answered with a smile. Yang smiled as well, though Smyth suspected it was just to be annoying. Smyth resigned herself to the likelihood that this wouldn’t be the first mission she was virtually ignored by the captain. But that’s OK, she reasoned within herself. Soon he’ll get to know me and my style and probably come around.

***