“Captains, we have the latest reports.”  The yeoman handed PADDs to each man and retreated to his desk.

Captain Geronimo was first as he read, “The next time I get the idea to send the Mackenzie to the Delta Quadrant, tell me in no uncertain terms how bad of an idea it is.”  He read the report of Chief Katsumi’s death, the ensuing service, and the request from Captain Wren Walton for station counseling services to be available upon arrival.

“As long as you remind me to never send Theta Squad… anywhere apparently.” Varen rubbed his forehead, pressing even more furrows into the bridge of his nose. He had spent much of the overnight shift calling favours from across the quadrant to facilitate Daedalus’ newest additions. “Tanek is barely answering my comms, when he does it’s all one word answers. I’ve got no idea about the state they’ll be in when they get back.” He thumbed the corner of the PADD as his eyes wandered to the window, looking out onto Starbase 72’s interior dock, a plethora of Fourth Fleet ships filling the berths, each filled with new mysteries about the Borg.

“Jalian’s not too happy about the idea of them bringing the Unimatrix beacon back with them. It almost became a rank battle. But I can’t just leave them out there in this state.” He chewed his bottom lip in the silence as Geronimo continued reading. “Maybe it is a bad idea.” 

Fontana hadn’t been intentional with his silence. There was so much to read, not just from their Task Force.  The rest of the Fourth Fleet had been given the ultimate mystery. None of them had come away unscathed.  He finished reading Wren Walton’s report of her conversation with another captain at the Markonian Outpost.  “When it comes to the Borg, there are no bad ideas.  We got caught unawares with Frontier Day, and this one makes the mystery deeper and deeper.”  He sighed and tossed the PADD onto his desk, “I wish we could stop digging into this one eventually.  When it comes to mysteries and the Borg, it’s never about buried Latinum.”  He sat back in his chair, “If we leave them out there, something worse could happen and history tells us the things we leave to a worse fate have a habit of coming back for us.”

A shiver ran down Varen’s spine and echoed deep into the deck. “The Dominion. The Borg. It’s been a busy six months for the Federation’s closet of skeletons.”  The Bajoran swallowed against a dry throat, “I dread to think what could be hiding out there beneath the next nebula. I know we’re all about the new worlds and new civilizations but it’s hard to look past this.” He waved toward the discarded PADD on the desk, his eyes never straying from the scarred hulls out in the dock. “Did you hear about Cruz on Seattle?” A raised eyebrow invited more. “Acquired a new brother, XO, and vineyard all in one go.”

Geronimo smiled at the news, “We’ll take the wins where we can get them.  I’ll have to put the vineyard on my list of places to visit.  I appreciate a good vintage where I can find them.”  He leaned back in his chair, “Varen…you’re not the only one worried about Tanek.”  He asked, “Commanding officers carry a lot on their shoulders in the good times and the bad…given what you know of him…what would you recommend?”

The young man sighed, deep and heavy with thought it hovered in the office’s still air. “I always think it must be hard for those with longer life expectancies. By virtue of time served you end up with more and more weight to carry.” His eyes were caught by the large space doors of the upper dock that had parted, allowing the warm sun of Minos Korva to filter in, silhouetting the arriving USS K’ehleyr against the golden sun. “Well… Daedalus is due for its postponed refit after Deneb, and that ship is a first responder; it’s only ever going to be going headlong into danger.” Varen sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “Maybe a change of scenery; maybe he just needs something a bit more hopeful for a while.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Maybe we all do.”

K’ehleyr continued past the wide windows of the office, its hulking shape moving with surprising delicacy through the dockyard towards its reserved berth. “It doesn’t help that Starfleet Command is just carrying on like the last six months haven’t happened. Deneb, Frontier Day, The Signals…” He cast an eye towards the aide just beyond the glass partition. “I worry people are losing confidence.”

Fontana followed his deputy commander’s eyes and logic.  He wasn’t wrong.  The Fourth Fleet was earning its keep within Starfleet when it came to seeing the truth, even belatedly.  He wasn’t sure of the answer to Veren’s statement.  Being at the tip of the spear wasn’t all it was made out to be.  “That’s where we come in.” He shifted to the replicator for a fresh cup of coffee and returned to his desk, “We know the quality and quantity of our people here and elsewhere – the task forces of Fourth Fleet have given a lot.  We have to work to boost that confidence.  If that means a tour of our commands, a handshake, and a good word – whatever we must do to keep that confidence in what we all do in the fleet…I don’t want to think of the day when that confidence begins to go beyond just mild doubt into much darker and dangerous territory.”

A barely audible beep snuck from the padd at Varen’s side, as he pulled it from where it rested between his leg and the comfy chair a lopsided smile spread across his face. “It looks like my first stop on the good word tour has arrived. Daedalus has just reached the outer bouys and I want to see them in, everyone’s a bit nervous about having the Unimatrix around. I’m going to keep them on an opposing orbit until Starfleet Security gets back to me.” The man shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “Even my boyish smile couldn’t convince the Admiralty to let them aboard, only just managed to get them into Federation space.” Varen stood and reset the glasses on his nose as he nodded to the aide to signal a waiting runabout.  “At least I can bet on a cookie in Tanek’s office” 

The senior of the two gave a nod as he shifted up from his chair, “I’ll need to meet Mackenzie when she arrives.  Some of her crew may want to step away…I wouldn’t blame them.”  He stood at attention, “Safe travels, Varen.  Let’s hope for calmer seas.”

He watched the task force executive officer leave with pride.  They’d worked well together, and there was little doubt Varen was on a strong heading up the ladder.  He returned his attention to the rest of the ships, noting where to visit next.