“You’ve got to be kidding me… A diplomatic mission?” The sarcastic laughter of Dawson Angus filled his much older Captain’s dining suite. “You’re pulling my leg.” 

Fran’s expression remained its usual cold and neutral state, unreactive to her Chief of Security and Second Officer’s outburst. Years of serving together had numbed her, and in a way, she had grown to find comfort in his extroversions.

“When have you ever known me to pull legs, Dawson?” She tossed the PADD his way again. “Take another look. The orders are legit. Agamemnon is headed to the Tysla System immediately for a rather sensitive second contact mission.” 

Dawson’s facial expression had furrowed as he picked up the PADD again and pursued it in a more serious manner for a second time. It was certainly not the usual type of mission profile they had gotten used to in driving around a Prometheus-class vessel, but there it was, the orders were clear and pointed. 

“Well I’ll be damned. Shouldn’t you let your newly minted Executive Officer know about this?” Dawson sat down adjacent Fran now and crossed his legs. 

“I did just before you arrived. He went to the bridge with orders to the head Vadia system with haste.”

“Was he able to actually look you in the eyes for more than a minute this time?” Dawson grinned. He knew how intimidating Captain Fran Evertt could be, especially to a newcomer. He wouldn’t want to be a brand new Executive Officer on top of that. As much as he joked about the situation, he did not envy Commander Cadun Kir in the least. 

Dawson had remained right where he was by choice for a long while now. Too much paperwork and headaches came with anything above his current pay grade as well.

“Cut it out. You act like I’m the most terrifying Captain in Starfleet.” Fran replied in a firm tone once more, but her stiff demeanour gave way to a slight grin, just barely visible. “He lasted a full two minutes this time.” She took a sip of her coffee, then, a move she often pulled when a laugh was about to slip out. 

“Seriously, though, Captain. This is a bit odd. Isn’t it?” Dawson browsed the formal orders more closely. 

“It’s a show of strength, Dawson. They’re sending us in because they feel Agamemnon will make a statement, at least a subtle one anyway. The native species… The Rosvakarr are near completion of a huge warship and intend to leave their home system and conquer nearby areas for resources.” Fran paused and took another sip of her coffee. 

“Obviously, that is not in the best interest of this newly opened expanse… It’s all there if you just take a minute to actually read it.”

Dawson laughed again, “Reading stuff isn’t my best strength…” 

“Clearly.” Fran rolled her eyes, then stood and walked over to the small viewport area to their right. The ship had transitioned to high warp, and the stars were flying past the window now. A view she always enjoyed losing herself in.

 “I’ll have you know that I wasn’t always a battle-hardened old crank pot. There was a time I used to be an explorer and known for throwing a good diplomatic soiree.”

“I don’t believe it.” Dawson joined her at the viewport. His reply had a light, non-serious tone, indicating he was joking. 

“You’ll get to see that in action. We will be hosting a party of senior Rosvakarr government officials when we arrive. I’m told the atmosphere is tense in their home system right now.” Fran continued, her gaze still set on the view. 

“It says here we will be picking up a large supply cache and some large industrial replicators.. From Framheim Station?” Dawson asked as he continued power-scrolling through the orders. He was at least reading some of it. 

“Something for us to negotiate with. Truthfully, I don’t think it’s going to be enough but…. We will see.” 

No one would know it. It was a feeling Fran rarely experienced after her many years in command and in Starfleet itself. It took effort for it not to show in her body language.

But… She was nervous and borderline unsure if they could pull their mission objective off this time. 

They had to, though.. For the good of the Expanse.