Tabor sensed Hawk’s confusion before he spoke. “Surely you can’t be saying that you plan to defy the Federation Council’s agenda,” the younger man said. “You can’t just act on your own initiative.”

“My own initiative? No, not entirely. But I do have a certain autonomy once the negotiations start. As a diplomat, the specific direction of the talks is often mine to choose.” Tabor felt Hawk inwardly wince, and quickly added, “As much as I care about galactic peace and interstellar amity, I feel just as strongly that the Federation must be protected, at all costs.Sometimes, that goal can only be achieved in unorthodox ways. Why, your very own captain has bent the rules of the Prime Directive more than once to achieve a greater good.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir . . . Aubin.”

“Haven’t youever felt that the people making the rules sometimes make mistakes?”

“You aren’t suggesting that Starfleet Command is–”

Tabor leaned in closer to Hawk, conspiratorially. “I’m not suggesting that Starfleet Command is incompetent. But Starfleet is a gargantuan organization. Surely you can understand how some things might slip through the cracks? How mistakes can be made? How poor policies can be implemented and perpetuated?” Tabor probed again, and heard Hawk’s mind whisper Maquis,as if validating the ambassador’s words. He was relieved that Hawk was not prejudging him. He was, in fact, wanting to understand Tabor better.

“I will let you in on a secret, Sean. Starfleet knowsthat mistakes can be made. Aremade. They’ve known it since the beginning. It’s why the founders of Starfleet created a secret bureau, an elite group whose job is to provide for the organization’s best interests.”

“You mean Starfleet Intelligence? They’re hardly a secret.”

“No, not S.I.” Tabor paused for a moment, knowing that what he was about to say marked the turning point in their conversation. “The group I’m talking about is known as Section 31.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Hawk said. Tabor could feel the hunger for more information within the young man.

“Most people haven’t. I doubt even your Captain Picard, as wise and as knowledgeable as he is, is aware of the group, even though it was a part of Starfleet’s original charter two hundred years ago. Section 31 exists to identify anything that might threaten the Federation– and then deals with it, efficiently and quietly.”

“Has Starfleet really been all that bad at indentifying and handling threats?” Hawk said. Tabor could feel the lieutenant’s mind–his very conscience– struggling to wrap themselves around the ideas they were receiving.

Tabor smiled. “I didn’t mean to imply that, Sean. But the laws and principles that Starfleet’s officers of the line are sworn to uphold can hamstring them in certain . . . ethically gray situations. Section 31 has no such encumbrances. And that autonomy protects the ethical integrity of Starfleet’s mainline officers and the Federation’s leaders. Its agents answer to internal superiors, who, in turn, implement the decisions that other Federation operatives cannot.”

Tabor could tell that Hawk was truly becoming conflicted; he had begun to question not only modern‑day Starfleet’s decisions, but also the schoolboy assumptions about history that most Federation citizens rarely called into question.

And yet, the lieutenant still could go either way. Tabor knew he had no choice but to press on.

“Sean, Section 31 also exists to make sure that mistakes that aremade can be corrected.That the dangers which threaten the Federation’s existence–and those who are naive enough to expose the Federation to those dangers–are neutralized. Sometimes the agents have to step outside the rules to help keep the Federation’s true best interests in the forefront.”

Hawk rocked back on his seat, his brow furrowed. His voice was soft, almost a hiss. “Are you saying Starfleet has something like the Cardassian Obsidian Order or the Romulan Tal Shiar? That they sanctionthose sorts of operations?”

Tabor put on a wounded expression, and prepared to take the next step–confirming that he wasa part of Section 31. He could read in Hawk’s mind that the young man had guessed it anyhow.

“We’re not assassins, son. The steps those groups will take to accomplish their ends are much more . . . proactive than ours. However, we value the survival of our way of life every bit as much as our adversaries do theirs. ‘Necessity knows no law except to prevail.’ One of Earth’s philosophers said that.”

“Publilius Syrus,” Hawk said quickly. “But he also said, ‘Pardon one offense, and you encourage the commission of many.’ It seems as if this group is above the law.”

“Not above it. Beneath it, perhaps. You might think of the bureau as the bulwark that makes the Federation’s ideals possible in the first place. The only reason freedom exists at all, Sean, is because of those who stand vigil outside on the ramparts. Section 31 upholdsthe Federation’s principles. Just as Picard has done on those occasions when he has bent the rules. Even in your short time on the Enterprise,I’m sure you can think of more than a few instances wherein he, or Commander Riker, have made decisions based more upon conscience than on the rule book.”

Tabor could feel Hawk’s thoughts swirling, but one question rose to the forefront more quickly than any other. “You’re wondering why I’m telling you this, aren’t you?” Tabor asked.

“Yes,” Hawk said, simply.

“It’s because Section 31 has need of new agents. Strong, reliable, honest men and women who are committedto the dreams of the Federation.” Tabor looked him directly in the eyes. “I believe you to be one of those men, Mister Hawk.”

“Me? I’m not–”

“You embody allof the qualities of the best Starfleet officers. Additionally, I believe that you may have an eidetic memory, a valuable tool for an agent.”

“I’ve always had a near‑photographic memory, but . . .” Hawk shook his head, then asked, “Why now?”

“Because I fear that Section 31 may have lost an agent who was aboard the Slayton.Commander Cortin Zweller. He was on an important mission to Chiaros IV–a mission that would have altered the outcome of the peace talks in a way that would ultimately have benefited the Federation.”

“You mean . . . he was there to make sure the Romulans gain control of Chiaros IV.”

Tabor nodded slowly. “As you’ve no doubt surmised, I’ve decided to make sure that his mission succeeds. Especially if that mission has cost him his life.”

If Cortin died trying to trade the Geminus Gulf for that list of Romulan spies,Tabor thought, then I’ll be damned if I’m going to let his death be in vain. There’s too much history between us for that.

“I may need your aid in this matter, especially if something hashappened to the Slaytonand its crew. And beyond that . . . I would like to call upon you from time to time to help Section 31 in defending the Federation.”

Tabor felt Hawk’s apprehension and fascination grappling like opposing storm fronts. There’s trepidation there, yes, and confusion,Tabor thought. But the lad does indeed love a good adventure.

“Are you asking me to leave the Enterprise?”Hawk said.

“Not necessarily. This isthe Federation’s flagship, after all. Section 31 could certainly use some alert eyes and ears here.”

Hawk’s crystal‑blue eyes were wide as he considered everything Tabor had just said. Tabor could feel that he had punched all the right buttons for the young officer; now, the lieutenant just had to make the right decisions.

“I’m not sure about this, Ambassador. Covert operations, spying . . .” Hawk trailed off.

“Sounds like something out of one of your mother’s books,” Tabor said, almost lightheartedly. “There are many instances in history where selfless people have had to stand alone or work in secret for the benefit of all.” He let his words hang in the air for a moment. Tabor could sense that it was time to ease up and disengage. Gently, he said, “I understand, Sean. Really, I do. And I appreciate the gravity with which you are approaching my offer. It speaks highly of your personal ethics.”