Post #276: Two Birds, One Stone

Posted on Wed Jun 11th, 2025 @ 7:22pm by Lieutenant V'Lar & Rear Admiral Reginald Pembroke

1,746 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: A New Beginning
Location: Obsidian Station
Timeline: current

V'Lar was borderline exhausted, she'd spent the entirety of the journey to the Delta Quadrant working out the possibilities around Ocampa and now that they were here she'd moved on to the next problem, she was the Chief Intelligence Officer and she knew that her job was to be ahead of the metaphorical game. Her new problem was the Alpha Quadrant and how to get information from there, how to know the situation, then over dinner her mother had mentioned that Admiral Pembroke was going to be responsible for the new Academy and that she wondered how they'd get cadets, it had been a comment that had sparked the answer to V'Lar's current problem and potentially assist the Admiral as well. She didn't normally head to an Admiral's office unannounced but this was the exception. She stopped at Pembroke's door and pressed the bell.

The chime rang once, echoing softly through the cozy yet cluttered office. Admiral Pembroke looked up from the padd he’d been reading—an outdated personnel requisition form that had somehow been duplicated five times and printed in Klingon for reasons he was still attempting to sort out.

“Enter!” he called cheerfully, brushing a biscuit crumb off his tunic and standing up. He clasped his hands behind his back as the door slid open.

When he saw who it was, his expression brightened.

“Ah! Lieutenant V’Lar, isn't it? Or is it 'Commander' now? I lose track. Promotions come flying faster than tribbles these days.” He motioned for her to enter, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy brows. “Come in, come in! You’re a rare visitor—and a welcome one, I daresay. Tea? Coffee? I have both, and I won’t take no for an answer unless you insist quite convincingly.”

As she stepped inside, Pembroke gestured toward one of the well-worn chairs across from his desk, littered with padds, a teacup, and a small model of a Constitution-class ship with one nacelle missing.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my dear? You’ve got the look of someone with an idea—and those are in terribly short supply these days, I assure you.” He grinned. “Speak freely. My door’s open, though I confess it doesn’t happen very often without someone bringing some bad news. I rather hope you’re the exception.”

"I might just be the exception. And I'll have a tea" V'Lar said "My mother tells me you're heading up the new academy, and she was wondering how you'd get all the cadets here, after all we are out in the Delta Quadrant." she smiled a little "Thing is one of my jobs at the moment is trying to figure out how we get up to date data from the Alpha Quadrant so we know what's going on and I may have stumbled on a way that helps both of us." she took a moment "You've heard of Empok Nor I assume?"

Pembroke’s brow lifted, both in curiosity and delight as he began to pour the tea with a surprising amount of care, despite the fact that the pot looked like it hadn’t been cleaned properly since the Dominion War.

“Empok Nor, hmm?” he repeated, handing her the teacup with a flourish and settling into his own chair with a mild groan. “Cardassian monstrosity of a station. Abandoned, derelict, repurposed, abandoned again—like a party guest who never quite gets the hint to leave.”

He took a sip of his own cup and leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, biscuit forgotten.

“I’m listening, V’Lar. If you've found a way to solve both a strategic intelligence dilemma and my cadet recruitment headache in one go, then not only are you the exception—you may well be a miracle. Go on, tell me your thoughts.” His expression was expectant, but not rushed—open and genuinely intrigued. “And for the record, I do like it when Intelligence comes bearing good news. It helps offset the frequent heart palpitations.”

"We need a listening post in the Alpha Quadrant, somewhere that doesn't raise an eyebrow Empok Nor fits the bill, it's a Cardassian station, it's still online despite being abandoned and it's still tied into the Cardassian network, it's in the middle of nowhere so a handful of personnel could theoretically man it in such a capacity as to monitor activity across the Quadrant piggybacking on the Cardassian systems." V'Lar said "It also gives us the means to contact those people who are on the applicant list for Starfleet Academy but who hadn't enrolled yet, we can use Empok Nor to transmit encrypted signals that don't look out of place, we send the applicants a message, maybe a coded test of some sort that directs them to one of a number of pick up points and we send in one of our ships to go get them from there."

Pembroke blinked twice, then sat back slowly in his chair, his expression shifting from curiosity to something much more focused. The teacup, halfway to his lips again, paused mid-air as a grin began to spread across his face.

“Oh… oh my stars, that’s bloody brilliant.”

He set the cup down carefully, as though the sheer weight of the idea deserved his full, undivided attention.

“Empok Nor as a listening post,” he mused aloud. “Tied into Cardassian infrastructure, remote enough to avoid undue attention, already written off by most of the quadrant as either haunted or a maintenance nightmare—and precisely not Starfleet. That gives us plausible deniability and breathing room.”

He chuckled with a mix of delight and admiration. “And you’ve already thought two steps ahead, haven’t you? Use the same platform to send out recruitment directives. Quiet signals. No broadcasts. No fancy banners or Federation fanfare—just intelligence work at its finest. You find the right minds before they’ve been shaped, and the right ones will find their way back to us.”

He leaned forward now, eyes sharp with rare seriousness.

“Two birds, one very sneaky stone. V’Lar, you may have just solved two of our biggest problems without requisitioning a single shuttle. I’ll have to run this past Fleet Command, of course, but I can already tell you—I’m sold.”

Then, with a twinkle returning to his eye, he added, “If this works as well as I think it might, I may just have to steal you for a guest lecture or two at the Academy. Ethics of Subtlety, perhaps. Or How to Trick an Entire Quadrant Into Thinking You’re Not Watching Them.”

"Oh one thing, I'd like you to work with Paul Eschenauer. I'm thinking of having him work with me in the Academy, and would like to see what else he can do besides fly " he added.

"In my experience sir." V'Lar said "Pilots know every inch of whatever they're flying throw them a toolbox and they can usually fix it even when they try to complain it's engineering's job." she half smiled "But there may be a task or two associated with this that he can use to test himself with."

Pembroke gave a wheezy chuckle, clearly pleased by V’Lar’s sharp observation.

“Ah! Exactly the sort of thing I like to hear—practical insight and a hint of mischief.” He tapped the rim of his teacup thoughtfully. “Pilots who gripe about engineers but know how to reroute power with a spanner and a curse are exactly the sort we want teaching resilience. And Paul Eschenauer...”

He trailed off, nodding with growing certainty.

“Yes, I’ve had my eye on that one. Good instincts. Clean record. And loyal to a fault. But like many who’ve been in the cockpit too long, I suspect he’s never really had a reason to look over the edge of the flight path and ask what else he could be. This might just do it.”

The admiral leaned back, folding his hands across his chest.

“I’ll assign him to work with you, under your direction for the Empok Nor project. Give him a slice of the puzzle. If he thrives—and I rather think he might—we’ll know he’s ready for more than helm control and pre-flight checks.”

Then he added with a sly grin, “But do take care with him, V’Lar. We don’t want to break him. Just bend him ever so slightly out of his comfort zone. A bit of discomfort does wonders for the soul.”

His tone softened a bit.

“And between you and me, it would do the Academy good to have a few people on staff who’ve been sharpened by more than lectures. If this works... well, we might be starting more than a new campus out here—we might be building the future from scratch.”

"If the jigsaw pieces fit sir." V'Lar said "I don't believe for a moment we're doing anything less than that."

Pembroke smiled at that—softly at first, then with the quiet satisfaction of a man who had just heard exactly what he’d needed to.

“Well,” he said, his voice touched with warmth, “aren’t you a timely reminder of why we keep going, even when the path ahead looks more like guesswork than guidance.”

He stood then, slowly, reverently—as though her words had deserved more than just a seated reply—and walked to the viewport behind his desk. The stars of the Delta Quadrant glittered beyond the reinforced glass, distant and unyielding, but somehow… full of promise.

“If the jigsaw pieces fit,” he echoed, hands clasped behind his back. “Then perhaps it’s time to stop worrying about the picture on the box and trust that what we’re assembling is worth finishing.”

He turned back to her, a twinkle returning to his eye. “Go on then, Commander. Start bending your pilot. Quietly raise your little ghost station. And if this all works out the way I hope—well, I’ll make sure the future has your name etched somewhere very inconvenient to remove. And keep me informed.”

With a wink and the faintest nod of respect, he added, “Dismissed, V’Lar. And thank you—for bringing me the first truly hopeful idea I’ve heard in weeks.”

"Sir." V'Lar said turning on her heels and walking out of the office.

***********

Lieutenant V'Lar
Chief Intelligence Officer
Starbase Obsidian

Rear Admiral Reggie Pembroke
Commadant of the Academy
Starbase Obsidian

 

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