Investigative Information
Posted on Fri Jul 3rd, 2026 @ 4:37pm by Petty Officer 2nd Class Sofia Cipriani & Lieutenant Junior Grade Stefan Zamfir
Edited on on Sat Jul 4th, 2026 @ 5:37am
2,308 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
Episode 18 - The Edge of Darkness
Location: Library - Upper Promenade - Empok Nor
Timeline: MD001 1600 hrs
When the General had left, Stefan was needing to catch up on his 'paperwork' He had remembered part of the reason why he was here. To keep watch on things especially on Rowena, and... the Commodore, and take down observational notes.
He'd not gone to talk with Sofia as of yet, there had been the missions that happened afterward. Now though this was a good opportunity to go ask questions.
Instead of sending out a message over the combadge, Stefan sent a message to the yeoman, asking if he could speak to her, though it would have to be in a secure area where they could talk. Just not where Rowena could pass by them. Where could they meet?
Sofia was halfway through reconciling the Commodore’s afternoon appointments with three competing departmental updates when the message appeared on her desk console. She glanced at it once, then again, her fingers pausing over the padd in front of her.
Lieutenant Zamfir wanted to speak with her. Securely.
That alone made her stomach tighten more than she liked. Intelligence rarely asked to speak to her at all, let alone for a private conversation, and it was never about anything routine.
She leaned back slightly, glancing at the office door before looking back at the message. Secure locations weren’t really her area. She could handle schedules and logistics easily, but if an Intelligence officer needed somewhere secure, he likely already had a place in mind.
After a moment, she typed a reply.
Of course, Lieutenant.
I can make myself available. Where would you like me to meet you?
She hesitated, then added one more line, because vague messages had a way of breeding vague problems.
And should I bring anything with me?
Sofia sent it before she could overthink the wording, then looked back down at the duty schedule with considerably less focus than she’d had a minute earlier.
Stefan looked at the message from Sofia, then sent a message back to her,
Just bring yourself, and I will meet you in the library, private study room number three.
If you would like to bring something for yourself go right ahead.
Though there is a replicator there which we can get some tea if you wish.
And perhaps at the end of your scheduled duty.
Stefan realized that it wouldn't good to have it done during officer hours.
The reply came through a few minutes later, and Sofia read it twice before setting the message aside.
Private study room three. The library. After her scheduled duty.
That was sensible enough, which somehow made it feel more serious rather than less. She spent the rest of her shift doing exactly what she was meant to do: answering messages, adjusting appointments, sending reminders, chasing one missing report from Operations and quietly saving the Commodore from being double-booked with two people who both thought their issue was urgent enough to bend time itself.
By the time her replacement arrived, Sofia had everything neat, logged, and handed over. She resisted the urge to check the message again, mostly because she already knew what it said. Instead, she straightened the edge of her uniform jacket, tucked a loose strand of hair back into place, and made her way to the library.
It was quieter than most areas of the station. Empok Nor never quite managed to feel gentle, but the library came close. The old Cardassian bones were still there in the walls and angled supports, dark and watchful, but someone had softened the space with warm lighting, archive terminals, and rows of physical books that made Sofia slow her pace despite herself. Her fingers brushed the edge of one shelf as she passed, grounding herself in something familiar.
Private study room three was tucked away from the main reading area, discreet enough that she almost walked past it. The door opened at her approach, and she stepped inside, taking in the small room first: a compact table, two chairs, a wall console, a replicator, and enough privacy to make the silence feel deliberate.
Only then did she notice Lieutenant Zamfir.
He was taller than she expected, with black hair swept back from his forehead and green eyes that gave the impression of missing very little. There was a sharpness to him, not unfriendly exactly, but focused; the sort of presence that made Sofia suddenly aware of where she put her hands and whether she looked nervous.
She offered him a small, polite smile and stopped just inside the room.
“Lieutenant Zamfir,” she said, careful but warm. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
A brief but warm smile appeared softening his gaze, then he motioned in towards the study room.
Once inside he made the windows go frosted, not only for privacy but also to prevent any other possible accidental noticed.
When it was done, Stefan looked at Sofia.
"Would you like some tea and a pastry or something?" Stefan didn't want Sofia to feel stressed as to him calling her to a private meeting.
Sofia stepped further into the room when he indicated, though her pace slowed as the windows frosted over.
That, more than anything, made the whole thing feel suddenly less like a conversation and more like something that belonged in one of the reports she was never cleared to read. The quiet library beyond disappeared behind opaque glass, leaving only the small study room, the lieutenant, and the soft hum of the privacy field. Her stomach tightened despite the polite offer.
Tea and pastry.
It was such a normal question in such an abnormal setting that Sofia nearly laughed, but the sound caught somewhere behind her ribs.
“No, thank you, sir,” she said, offering a small smile that tried very hard to be steady. “That’s kind of you, but I’m alright.”
She glanced once at the frosted windows, then back to him. Her hands folded neatly in front of her, fingers laced a little tighter than usual.
“I have to admit, Lieutenant, this feels a little… cloak and dagger.” Her tone stayed respectful, but there was no hiding the nervous edge beneath it. “I don’t think Intelligence usually asks yeomen to private study rooms unless something is wrong.”
A beat passed.
“So perhaps you should tell me what this is about.”
"Have a seat then please." Stefan having a slight smile in his eyes.
"You are very astute as I thought you would be." he took a seat himself.
Stefan was going to be rather direct, with Sofia.
"I've been gathering up information where both Malbrooke and McGowan are concerned. And this is about, what happened before I came onto the ship."
"I had been told and had read, about both of them having been taken over by an entity. According to reports also, it had been stated that the entity had been driven out. Now though since some time has passed since then. Have you observed anything from the Commodore, that would corroborate that information?"
His voice was quiet, and not wanting to make Sofia uncomfortable but this also was part of Stefan's job as well.
Sofia went very still.
It was not dramatic. No sharp intake of breath, no sudden movement. Just a quiet tightening through her shoulders, her fingers folding together in her lap until her knuckles paled slightly. For a moment, the private study room felt smaller than it had before.
“With respect, Lieutenant,” she said, voice soft but edged with something she did not quite manage to hide, “what exactly are you asking me?”
She looked at him properly then, the polite yeoman’s mask still there, but thinner now. “If you’re asking whether Commodore Malbrooke is still compromised, then no. I haven’t seen anything that suggests that.”
The words came carefully, because the memory did not. That came fast: Tyler’s voice turned cruel, the look in his eyes, the way he had cut straight into the wound of her father’s death as if he had known where to place the blade. Sofia swallowed, her gaze dropping for half a second before she forced it back up.
“I know what it looked like when it wasn’t him,” she continued, quieter now. “I was there for part of it. I heard things from him that…” Her mouth tightened. “Things the Commodore would never have said to me. Not him. Not really.”
A small breath left her, unsteady but controlled.
“And since then, yes, he’s been tired. Guilty. More than he’ll ever admit, probably. He looks at me sometimes like he’s still trying to apologise without saying it in front of everyone.” Her voice softened despite herself. “But guilt is not possession. Exhaustion is not possession. A man carrying what happened is not the same thing as something still wearing his face.”
She sat a little straighter, young and nervous still, but with a daughter’s stubborn loyalty burning through the fear.
“The Commodore I see now is Tyler Malbrooke. He worries about the crew. He notices when people are hurting. He tries to put things right, even when he’s too proud or too tired to know how.” A pause. “So if there’s something specific you’re concerned about, I’ll answer what I can. But I won’t help turn normal scars into evidence against him.”
Stefan gave a nod, and a small smile, at Sofia's defense of the commodore.
"From your honest reaction and answer, I won't be opening old wounds or scars, Sofia. This isn't my intention. I am having to ask questions and I don't have anymore questions where he is concerned."
There was one thing he knew and that was the sign of a woman being rather angry .
"Moving from the Commodore. I am wondeing about Commander Rowena McGowen, Have you noticed anything different about her? Given the fact that she seemed to be the catalyst as to what happened. I would like your observation where she is concerned."
Sofia stayed quiet for a moment longer, the heat in her cheeks not fully gone. The way he moved on so quickly told her he had understood enough, even if neither of them was going to say it out loud. Good. She did not want to talk about the Commodore like he was a case file.
When Lieutenant Zamfir mentioned Commander McGowen, Sofia’s expression changed. Not angry this time, just careful.
“I don’t really know her, sir,” she admitted. “Not properly. I’ve only dealt with her a few times, and mostly in passing. A padd from Intelligence, a message for the Commodore, that sort of thing.”
She shifted slightly in her chair, fingers smoothing once over her uniform trousers before settling again.
“And, well… I always found her a bit odd.” Sofia winced faintly, as if she knew that sounded less professional than she meant it to. “Not odd bad. Just… difficult to read. But I thought that was an Intelligence thing, honestly.” A tiny, nervous smile flickered. “No offence.”
She looked down for a second, trying to sort memory from assumption.
“So if you’re asking whether she seemed different after everything happened, I don’t think I can answer that properly. I didn’t know what normal was for her. She was always quiet, private, hard to get a feel for.” Her eyes lifted back to him. “I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not very helpful, but I’d rather say I don’t know than pretend I noticed something I didn’t.”
"I would rather have an honest answer than a pretend one. I do apologize for this cloak and dagger, but I have a job to do and its not something I enjoy doing." An honest expression of regret in his eyes.
"With how sensitive this is, I couldn't do this sort of questioning, on the Pioneer." Stefan also added, "If you are asked about this, I will not be asking you to cover this up either. I will also request your discretion as well."
Sofia looked down at her hands for a moment, feeling a little heat still in her cheeks. She did not like any of this, not really, but she could hear that he was not trying to make it worse.
“I understand, sir,” she said quietly. “I won’t go around talking about it.”
She glanced back up at him, her expression still cautious but less sharp than before. “If someone asks, I’ll say we spoke. I won’t pretend we didn’t. But I won’t tell people what it was about unless I’m ordered to, or unless there’s a reason I have to.”
A small breath left her, and she folded her hands properly in her lap again. “I don’t like secrets very much,” she admitted, then gave the faintest, awkward smile. “I’m not sure I’m built for them. But I do know the difference between discretion and gossip.”
Her voice softened a little.
“And I know you have a job to do, Lieutenant. I just hope… whatever you find, it helps rather than hurts.”
"As do I" Stefan remarked with a gentle smile.
He watched as Sofia made her exit, settling back in his chair. The yeoman was observant, and would know of the mood and the character of the Commodore.
A Joint Post By
Petty Officer Second Class Sofia Cipriani
Yeoman, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Stefan Zamfir
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer, USS Pioneer
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