The hum of quiet conversation and clinking silverware filled the space as servers moved with practiced grace. Dishes from around the Alpha and Beta Quadrants were being set in the middle of the large table. Some requested particular specials. Many of the first dishes were appetizers. Among them were bowls of moba root bisque, trays of hasperat spirals, and neatly neatly arranged rows of Misaka vine cubes. The table shimmered colorful food from half a dozen worlds.

Captain Raku leaned back into his chair with a relaxed posture. Nearby, Fleet Captain MacLeod seemed so prominent. The dark-haired Bajoran had heard so much about him. He was known for being hard-nosed and taking his work seriously. Mobra’s richly brown eyes looked from him to Captains Roshan and Barrett. Their conversation had been minimal, but their presence carried weight.

Good day, Fleet Captain. Captains. I’m here with the Cardinal,” he began in a reverant tone. “Our sensor pod is fully calibrated. Have any of you ever heard the old line about how a Nebula’s sensor pod can read a newspaper on Cardassia from Bajor?”

“Old line or not, I have never been one to bet on hyperbole.” Fleet Captain MacLeod said coldly as he leaned forward slightly, “But if you can read the newsprint on a Cardassian daily paper from standard orbit of Bajor, you would be reading for all of us.”

He held the moment, letting the words settle before continuing. “The Breen won’t give us the courtesy of signaling their intent. If there is signal degradation beyond Deptrock, compensate early. I would rather get a false alarm than be left guessing when the line moves.”

Captain Barrett, seated beside Roshan, raised a brow. “Raku, if you’re trying to make the rest of our sensor suites feel self-conscious, you’re doing a hell of a job.” She offered a half-smile and reached for a hasperat spiral, placing it delicately on her plate.

“Just be aware, Captain, what you see may require action. And the more you see, the more you may be asked to do.” Roshan added.

“Good point.” Raku reached for his glass before continuing. “From this position, our long-range suite can see past the trailing edge of the Deptrock system. We see even deeper behind the Breen border if we move search azimuths more rimward. If there’s anything interesting happening, we’ll let you know.” His olive-complexioned hand lifted the frothy cup of amber liquid. The punch had a tangy citrus kick.

Captain Raku knew many ships had the capability to scan that far to an extent. The Cardinal could survey with even more advanced precision. They could potentially track the heart rate of specific life signs aboard scanned vessels from this distance.

MacLeod didn’t look up right away. He reached for a hasperat spiral, placed it on his plate with surgical precision, then glanced toward Captain Raku.

“Good,” he said. “Then I expect you will tell me and the rest of the team everything before the Breen know we are watching.”

He picked up his fork.

“Keep it quiet. Keep it clean. And if something moves out there… don’t wait to be invited to the party.” MacLeod ordered.

“There are ways we can get things done covertly if we need to.” Captain Raku also took a hasperat roll, along with an alien noodle dish he didn’t recognize.

“A lot of what we do is more about studying their response and tactics”, Raku continued while scooping more noodles onto his plate.

“First, let’s see if they’ll notice the increased presence here. Their fleet hasn’t shifted yet.” The Cardinal was watching for any Breen vessels that might be sent on a surveillance mission across the nearby border.

The Bajoran Nebula captain smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately, all is clear for now. Their fleet positions haven’t reacted to our arrivals yet. It looks like this is shaping up to just be a vacation.” He cut and tasted the first piece of hasperat. It was clear the spices had been muted compared to original recipes.

“Captain, the Breen don’t react to deployments—they catalog them. When they move, it is because the math suits them.” MacLeod said as he deliberately set down his fork.

“This isn’t shore leave, it is an exercise in forward presence under a polite veneer. We’re here because our absence invites bolder moves by our enemies.” MacLeod continued in a firm but even voice.

“The thing is, the Breen won’t expect us to be watching. Not in the way we can see them.” There was a quiet confidence in Raku’s deep voice. “If they make any movements towards us, they won’t be the ones doing the cataloging.”

Mobra could visualize the dome atop the Cardinal as it peered deep into the darkness. “There’s a new watchdog in town. Just like my Klingon security chief, I’ve been fighting since childhood.” The captain almost appeared too young to have lived through the Breen assault on his homeworld of Free Haven. Memories of their arrival never left his mind for long.

Square lips twisted upwards into a wry smile, beneath Raku’s ridged nose. “Starfleet knows who they put in charge of the Cardinal. But, there hasn’t been as much as a blink or a cough in our direction. I guess we’re not that interesting after all.”

MacLeod dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin, then set it aside with meticulous care. His expression blended patience with steel.

“You mistake silence for lack of interest, Captain,” he said evenly with his eyes fixed on Raku. “The Breen don’t blink. They calculate. They do not cough—they condition. If they are quiet, it’s not out of lack of insight. It is because they are deciding what silence buys them.”

He let that sink in.

“You might have a watchdog on the line, but do not forget—dogs bark, but Breen do not. When they move, it will be with precision, not panic. So, if you are looking for noise, you will miss the signal.”

MacLeod reached again for his fork, then paused.

“And for what it’s worth, Captain—Starfleet did not assign you to the Cardinal because you are interesting. They did it because you are useful. Don’t confuse the two.”

MacLeod rose from his seat with deliberate calm, the faint scrape of his chair punctuating the moment like a final word. He didn’t glance at the remaining dishes or the soft rhythm of conversation still weaving through the room.

“Enjoy the hasperat,” he said coolly without embellishment.

With a nod to Captains Roshan and Barrett, MacLeod turned and walked away toward Captain Tancredi and Lieutenant Takashi at the far end of the hall, his posture upright, unhurried, and unshaken.

He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to.

The Bajoran fought the urge to laugh. MacLeod’s lecture was one of the most Human things he had ever witnessed. Free Haven was located not too far from the Breen border. As he hinted, he’d faced scraps with the Breen before he was thirteen.

It was very Terran to believe one had more experience just because they held higher rank.

Raku coolly looked to those remaining. “I personally think the hasperat is lacking spice.” His eyes closed as he tilted a chilled glass back for a refreshing drink.