Oksana listened. It was, after all, one of the things she did best. He was determined, yearning; he wanted to prove himself in the way so many did when they reached his point in their careers. It was very natural, and there was nothing wrong with it… usually. He was also full of resentment, it seemed. It was something else common in her experience that non-commissioned officers past a certain point thought junior officers simply existed as morons. From time to time, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate. It was about here that many began to regret not becoming officers, because no matter how high they climbed, they were unfortunately subject to the whims of a fresh out of the academy twenty-two year old pup.

She looked away from him for a moment, knowing many people found her eyes and settled gaze overly intense. “Do you think that’s a good enough reason to have joined Blackwatch?”

He relaxed a bit, realizing how worked up he’d gotten in the moment. The intense gaze didn’t bother him any, he was used to such looks if nothing else. “That’s a bit of a loaded question I suppose. Do any of us have a good enough reason to join it? I mean, we could all say to protect the future of the Federation, save lives. Keep mom and dad from having to see another war, whatever we like to help ourselves sleep better at night. We all know this requires breaking treaties and looking the other way in parts of our oaths we took when we joined Starfleet. So I don’t think my reason is any worse than anyone else’s in truth. The real question should be how we live with ourselves in all of it. You seem to be doing fairly well navigating such a course ma’am.”

“You don’t need to call me ma’am off duty. Oksana is fine, or Odile if you prefer something less familiar.” She chuckled softly, but gave a warm smile; she understood why he did it, some officers could be terribly uptight about that kind of thing at all hours.

He gave a nod “I’ll get more used to being less formal as time goes on. Hazard of the job I suppose. And I should get used to the callsign, it’ll be all we use in the field as it is.” Reed considered the situation for a moment, making note of what exactly her main profession was. Intelligence was certainly no cake walk in its own right, not by a long shot. So after looking back out over the bay for a moment, he had to ask “What exactly is your secret in all of this? I mean, how do you handle it? A woman as young as you certainly is carrying a lot on her shoulders, and I would guess you’ve had the same device we do now for quite some time. So how do you adjust to it?”

Oksana turned so her back was to the railing and leaned on it slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. “It was a difficult adjustment to make at first; it is for the majority of people whether they openly admit to it or not, so you are certainly not alone in feeling the way that you do.” She wanted to at least try to offer him some solace that what he was feeling was normal. “It is a strange thing to carry to know you have something in your body that can end your life, but what helped me is to stop viewing it as some sort of failsafe or insurance policy, and start viewing it as something that was done to protect me – which is honestly the truth.”

“I appreciate that” he replied. Knowing he wasn’t alone did help. A lot of other folks seemed to hide it much better than Reed did. “An interesting way to think of the device. I suppose that doesn’t bother me as much as simply being erased. I get we can die at any time with the hazards of our jobs, it’s just something entirely different to know that if lost, don’t expect anyone to come save your ass. Which I get is part of this job, it’s just very sobering and makes you feel very alone in this universe…” He turned back to look out over the transport bay once again while trailing off.

“Its really rather melodramatic, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” There was a note of light amusement in her voice. “Yes, most everything about you will be lost in an official capacity, but do you truly think that Starfleet Intelligence really loses track of anything that they do?”

She smiled at him, her tone quiet but reassuring. “Leaving someone behind… is very difficult, but sometimes it is a necessity. The assignment isn’t just to leave our people high and dry, but unless the risk is deemed acceptable to take, yes, we will be expected to leave people behind. These missions have to take precedence above all, even our lives.”

Leaving people behind was not something Oksana was good at either, she had nearly died going back for one of her team on her last posting. The situation was a bit different; they weren’t something like Blackwatch, the mandate wasn't to leave people behind, but even back then she had known it would have been wiser. Fleetingly, she wondered if that had played any sort of role in that particular rule being established. She didn’t linger on it and continued speaking,

“You won’t be alone, Nitro, and you won’t be forgotten any faster than those who simply live their lives and pass on. Even if your service is erased, hells, even your existence on paper, no one will take the memory of you or anyone else from your colleagues, friends, and family. They aren’t going to be kidnapped and put into dark rooms to have their memories altered. You’ll still exist for them.”