Permission To Be Curious

Posted on Sun Jan 18th, 2026 @ 6:34am by Captain Cassandra Hawk & Lieutenant Elsen Rava

2,608 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: A New Sheriff in Town
Location: Captain's Ready Room, Mojave Starbase

Morning on Mojave came quietly.

Elsen had slept, technically, but not deeply. The station’s night cycle had passed in a blur of half-formed thoughts and data she’d already begun organising before she was fully awake. By the time she left her quarters, she’d reviewed the system twice, cross-referenced the moon’s survey anomalies against older gravitational readings, and chased the name Vale down every accessible database she had clearance for.

It hadn’t taken long to hit the edge of what Starfleet officially knew.

Velorum Reach existed. KX-917 was unremarkable on paper. The third planet’s moon registered as marginally stable, low population interest, flagged more than once for follow-up that never quite materialised. Nothing alarming. Nothing definitive. Exactly the sort of place things were left to wait.

Vale was harder.

The name appeared in reports, never in the same context twice. Logistics advisories. Independent archaeological consultations. A handful of redacted references attached to civilian research initiatives that no longer existed. No personnel file. No clear affiliation. If it was an alias, it was a well-used one.

Elsen didn’t like gaps that neat.

She stopped outside the Captain’s office, adjusting the padd tucked under her arm more out of habit than necessity. This wasn’t an emergency. She wasn’t bringing a crisis or a demand. Just information. And a question that had already decided not to go away.

After a brief pause, she keyed the chime.

"Enter," a voice called from behind the door.

As the automatic mechanism slid the doors into either side of the door frame, the room beyond, set at a bit of an angle came into a view. The office itself was comfortable in size. Numerous crew members could be in attendance at a given moment, but the space wouldn't fit a ton beyond that. It was directly attached to Ops after all. Anything that required more than a handful of crew would be better conducted in Ops itself or an actual conference room.

A sleek, simple desk sat in the center of the room, flanked by two chairs for visitors and one behind it, sat in front of a large viewport window. Outside, Docking Rings 2 and 3 were visible, with a backdrop of a violet-cyan nebula. Said nebula filled the room a bit with its light, reflecting off the data panel on the desk to spread a hint of the color across the rooms ceiling. On either side of the window sat, a Federation flag and small cactus. A saguaro that had originally grown on the Hawk family ranch back on Earth.

The near wall bore as small collection of model starships, a framed set of Bajoran earrings and an image of a Bajoran woman who bore a strong resemblence to the station's commander, albeit with slightly darker features. The far wall bore a lasso of rope and a dark leather rimmed hat, the Captain's own. Below it was a mantle covered in small artifacts and souvenirs. An old optical telescope stood in the corner, with a retrofitted finder attached.

The Captain, was not in fact behind her desk, but on her feet, leaned against the viewport, padd in hand as she read over reports, vaguely watching a group of work bees out near Docking Ring 3. When she noticed who'd appeared at the door she turned, a genuine smile reaching her face with what may have been relief, and set the padd down. "Oh, good morning, Lieutenant," she said turning her attention more fully to the room. "I thought you were going to be the captain of the Antaran barge coming to harass me again about how I owe him for the repairs to his ship. Suffice it to say, I'm glad to be in more cheerful company. What can I do for you?"

El stepped fully inside, letting the doors slide shut behind her, and paused just long enough to take the room in properly.

She didn’t do it in the way someone catalogued objects. It was more instinctive than that. The light from the nebula, the lived-in clutter, the way personal history had been allowed to sit comfortably alongside command authority. It felt… grounded. Deliberate. The kind of space made by someone who planned to stay.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Elsen said honestly, her gaze drifting from the viewport to the far wall and back again. “It feels like a room that knows who it belongs to.” A faint smile followed. “I’ve been doing my best with my quarters, but there’s only so much personality you can squeeze into standard-issue furniture.”

She shifted her attention back to the Captain, amusement flickering at the mention of the Antaran barge. “If it helps,” Elsen added lightly, “every Antaran trader I’ve ever crossed paths with treated debt like a form of ongoing conversation rather than something meant to be resolved.” A small shrug. “If he’s still arguing, it probably means he likes you.”

There was a brief beat before she continued, her tone easing back into something more purposeful without becoming stiff. “I won’t take up too much of your morning,” Elsen said, adjusting the padd under her arm. “I came across something last night that I think warrants a conversation. Nothing urgent. Just… interesting enough that I’d rather bring it to you directly than let it sit.”

She met Hawk’s eyes, calm and open. “If you’ve got a few minutes.”

Elsen’s words struck an interesting chrord in Cassandra. Perhaps she’d misjudged the man. A few too many truly belligerent traders had her more defensive than needed. One of the adjustments to station life. Had he been a Tellarite, she’d have clocked it herself. But Antarans she knew less well. She’d need to keep a more open mind.

However, it was the Lieutenant’s closing comments that pulled her back to the present moment. A twinkle reached the corners do her eye as she replied in an inquisitive tone. “Alright, Rava. You’ve peaked my interest. Consider my attention yours.”

Elsen returned the look with a faint, appreciative smile and stepped closer, holding the padd out without ceremony.

“I’ll let the data do what it does best,” she said, offering it over. “But I wanted to frame it properly before it starts speaking for me.”

She waited until the Captain had it, then continued, her tone easy but deliberate. “Last night, I was approached in the research commons. Civilian. Gave the name Vale. No clear affiliation I could verify, and I did try.” A small, wry tilt of her head. “The name turns up just often enough to be irritating and never in the same context twice. Which is usually a choice.”

Elsen clasped her hands loosely behind her back, more at ease standing than sitting just now. “What he pointed me toward was a system in the Velorum Reach. KX-917. Third planet’s moon.” She paused, watching Hawk’s reaction rather than the viewport. “There are ruins there. Substantial ones. Stone and alloy. Old. Old enough that the current orbital dynamics don’t quite explain how they’re still intact.”

She let that land before going on.

“The scans don’t match anything in the comparative databases. No recognisable cultural markers, no clean technological lineage. Enough to keep getting passed along without anyone quite claiming it.” A brief breath. “He wasn’t asking for clearance or funding. Just… attention. Mine.”

Elsen’s expression softened into something quietly earnest. “I don’t take strangers at their word. That’s why I did the homework before coming to you. The site is real. The anomalies are consistent. And whatever built those structures understood instability better than we do.”

She met the Captain’s gaze again, steady and open. “I’m not here to make a recommendation yet. Just to put this on your radar before it turns into something we wish we’d noticed sooner.” A faint, almost apologetic smile followed. “And because if it does turn out to be nothing, I’d rather be the one who says so with confidence.”

The Captain's brow furrowed as she read over the information. The stranger had provided just enough information to make this site intriguing, maybe even irresistible to some, but not an inch more.

The perfect amount to be bait. The thought hit before she'd even processed it. Then again, that didn't make a ton of sense either. Bait for...a specific Starfleet Lieutenant? For the Rava symbiote? Even if that was the case, this stranger, Vale, was someone already aboard Mohave. She could lock down departures and have security hunt for him but...for what? Providing a clue to some interesting ruins?

If anything, the man with a strangely undocumented past might be tipping them off to something vital before other powers of the region were aware. Best not to burn any bridges here just yet. After all, sometimes the currency of choice was information. And information could sometimes be worth more than a starship.

"Seems you've gotten yourself a mysterious benefactor," Cassandra said finally, looking up from the padd. "What do you make of it? Not an official recommendation, if you're not ready for that. Just...what does your gut say?"

Elsen’s answer came quicker this time, like the hesitation had only been about choosing the right words, not the feeling behind them.

“My gut says this is the kind of thing that reminds us why we’re out here in the first place,” she said, quietly but with unmistakable energy under it. “Unmapped ruins. No cultural context. No language we recognise. That’s not a problem to be solved, it’s an invitation.”

She caught herself smiling, then didn’t bother to hide it. “There are entire worlds in that region that are written off as empty because no one’s bothered to listen closely enough. And every so often, you find proof that someone was there long before anyone thought to look. Someone who built, planned, adapted.” A small shake of her head. “That matters.”

Elsen stepped a little closer to the desk, not crowding, just engaged. “If there are structures, then there was intention. And if there was intention, there was culture. Maybe language. Maybe history that never made it into anyone’s databases.” Her eyes brightened at the thought. “That’s not just archaeology, Captain. That’s first contact… just delayed by a few thousand years.”

She sobered slightly then, grounding the enthusiasm with something steadier. “And there’s a responsibility that comes with that. The first people to walk into a place like that decide how it’s treated. Whether it’s understood, or stripped down to resources and curiosities.”

Her gaze held Cassandra’s, earnest and open. “I don’t know what we’d find. But I do know this: if we don’t go and look with care and curiosity, someone else eventually will. And they might not ask the same questions we would.”

A brief pause, then, softer, almost hopeful. “I’d really like the chance to ask those questions.”

The Lieutenant's pitch hit just about every button they needed to in Hawk's mind. She felt the edge of her mouth curl up again in spite of her self. She'd need to remember how compelling Rava became when speaking about her interests. That kind of earnestness could win over a crowd. In addition to being quite endearing, it also could prove pivotal in a future moment.

"If we knew what we'd find, it wouldn't exactly be exploring now would it," she said, drumming her fingers on the desk with a sense of finality. "This region we're in is...ancient. No. Beyond ancient. The Federation is coming up on two and a half centuries old. Some of our member races have been space faring for longer than that. And we're only just starting to make our way out here, near the core of our galaxy. Just mathematically, this space should be some of the most traveled space there is throughout the centuries, yet we know so little. And what we do know indicates that this region is very, very old. The nickname this region has gotten, 'The Stardust Drift', even implies a certain primeval quality to it if you ask me. And these particular ruins seem to carry a few lingering questions already."

Cassandra slid the pad back to Elsen. "Let's go find out what's out there. If this Vale wanted you to see something, least we can do is find out what it is. Go ahead and draw up a mission plan. I'll clear the Denali's docket. And unless you have some deep objection, I'll be your pilot. It's good to flex the old space legs every once in a while. Don't want to get too rusty."

Elsen’s reaction was immediate and entirely unguarded.

Her eyes lit up, the kind of bright, genuine excitement that had nothing to do with rank or propriety and everything to do with possibility. “Yes,” she said, a little too quickly, then caught herself with a soft laugh. “Sorry. Yes, absolutely.”

She accepted the padd back, already skimming it as if the ruins might rearrange themselves if she didn’t keep looking. “Thank you, Captain. I really think this is worth doing properly.” She glanced up again, curiosity flickering at the mention of Hawk piloting. “And I won’t pretend I’m not pleased you want to come along. That tells me you’re as curious as you sound.”

There was a brief pause, just enough for her tone to shift from enthusiasm into something more considered. “I would recommend we bring Lieutenant Commander Navarro, once he’s aboard,” Elsen added, more measured now. “I don’t have any reason to think the site is hostile, but I also don’t know that it’s safe. And while some of my… predecessors were very comfortable handling that sort of uncertainty,” she gave a small, wry smile, “I’m not a security officer. I’d rather not discover that lesson the hard way.”

She nodded once, decisive. “Beyond that, I’m happy to defer to you. Whomever you feel the need to bring. Maybe a small engineering presence if the structures are as integrated as the scans suggest. I’d like to keep the footprint light.”

Elsen looked up again, excitement still there, but steadied now by responsibility. “I’ll draw up the plan and have it to you as soon as I can. And… thank you. Really.” A softer smile followed. “This feels like the start of something important.”

"Let's hope it lives up to the mystique," Cassandra said, with hint of a smirk. "I'll wrangle up the necessary people and make sure things are prepped when you're ready."

Elsen smiled, the excitement still bright but tempered now by something steadier. She inclined her head in a small, respectful nod.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said sincerely. “I won’t keep you.”

She gathered the padd back under her arm, already mentally outlining what the mission plan would need to include. As she turned toward the door, she paused just long enough to glance back.

“I’ll have the proposal on your desk shortly,” Elsen added. “And I’ll make sure it’s worth the mystique.”

With that, she stepped out, the doors sliding shut behind her as the station’s quiet hum returned. The work ahead was already taking shape in her mind, and for the first time since arriving at Mojave, Elsen felt a distinct sense of forward motion.

 

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