Komack. Nogura felt his teeth beginning to grate. While he was acquainted with his fellow flag officer, he had never worked with James Komack. The admiral was a recent addition to the senior staff at Starfleet Headquarters on Earth after being transferred from his previous posting as the head of the command element overseeing Sector 9. There, Komack had built a solid reputation as a no-nonsense officer who got results, and tolerated little in the way of deviations from established or accepted policies and procedures. Nogura also recalled that Komack had, years earlier, served for a time at Starfleet Academy, overseeing the institution’s ethics review board, where he also was known as being unforgiving with regard to discipline, particularly if it involved cheating or other dishonorable behavior on the part of a cadet. In Nogura’s opinion, Komack was a “rules person” rather than a “people person,” meaning he was the sort of officer who preferred the letter of the law rather than its spirit and intentions. He seemed disposed to view the universe around him from a stark, black-and-white perspective, rather than learning to appreciate the myriad shades of gray to be found in the broad spectrum between those two extremes.

Nogura had little patience for people like that, and that was before such individuals chose to interfere with him and his responsibilities.

“Admiral Komack,” he said, considering this revelation and not liking any of the scenarios conjured by his imagination. “Did he happen to offer any particular reasoning for that directive?”

Swallowing another lump, Jackson nodded. “Yes, sir. The admiral said he wanted to protect you and the station’s senior staff from any recriminations should the operation fail.”

“And what if you’d succeeded?” Nogura asked, allowing some of his anger to seep into his voice. “Was I to receive all the credit for a job well done? A ticker-tape parade across Fontana Meadow? Would the Orions have presided over the festivities, offering me a medal or perhaps a nice selection of pastries?” Turning from Jackson, he resumed his pacing. “Do you have any idea what this idiotic scheme will do to our relations with the Orions? It’s bad enough we have to smile and nod our heads when we know their pirate ships are raiding our freighters and other civilian craft, even though we have no hard evidence to hold over their heads. Now, I have to find a way to kowtow to that jackass Ganz, in the hope he doesn’t flush Diego Reyes down a waste extraction vent, or grind him up and serve him to his pet … whatever the hell he has for pets over there.” His irritation continuing its slow boil, Nogura once again stopped before Jackson and eyed the security chief. “How long has this plan been in motion?”

“Admiral Komack contacted me three days ago, sir,” the lieutenant replied. “We started making our preparations immediately upon receiving his orders.”

“Three whole days?” Nogura asked, making no effort to contain his sarcasm. “Well, I can’t imagine why the mission wasn’t a resounding success, with that sort of in-depth advance planning.” Then, regretting his words, he forced himself to draw a deep, calming breath before shaking his head in irritation. If there was one thing he never had been able to stomach, it was waste, and above all, he loathed the notion of wasted lives.

“This entire affair has been a mess from the beginning,” he said, turning from Jackson and moving to stand before his office’s main viewscreen. “Admiral Komack should have gotten my input for any such mission. I probably should have apprised him of our efforts to utilize Diego Reyes. You should have come to me, Lieutenant, but I can respect that you were given direct orders by a superior, which you had to obey.” Nogura held little regard for the practice of placing subordinates in positions where they were forced to lie to their commanding officers or otherwise keep information from them, and even less tolerance for officers who utilized the tactic. There would be a conversation with Admiral James Komack on this topic, Nogura decided, but for now it would have to wait.

“None of that matters,” he continued. “All that matters is that two of my people are dead. No matter who takes the blame for this idiocy, that won’t change.” The best he could do now was to take steps to see that such an incident was not repeated. With a tired sigh, he turned his attention back to Jackson. “Lieutenant, please ensure that both Hetzlein’s and Gianetti’s families have been notified, and begin preparing their personal effects for transport to whatever destination they have listed in their records. I would also appreciate a personal letter to each of the families by you, to accompany the letters I’ll be sending.”

Jackson nodded. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Before Nogura could say anything else, the intercom on his desk beeped for attention, followed by the voice of his assistant, Ensign Toby Greenfield. “Admiral, Commander Moyer is here and wishes to see you, if you’re available.”

“Send her in, Ensign,” Nogura replied, then nodded to Jackson. “That will be all, Lieutenant. Dismissed.” His office doors parted to allow the security chief’s exit, and Nogura watched as the burly man maneuvered his large frame to one side in order to make room for Lieutenant Commander Holly Moyer, who stood just outside the office, holding a data slate next to her right thigh. Her expression was one of uncertainty, and Nogura could see that she was taking steps to maintain her poise. Without acknowledging Jackson’s greeting, she waited until he was out of her way before proceeding into Nogura’s office, then paused as the doors slid shut behind her.

“Commander,” Nogura said by way of greeting. “What can I do for you?”

Moyer replied, “Good evening, Admiral. I’ve just been informed about the failed rescue mission aboard the Omari-Ekon. Sir, with all due respect, what the hell was Starfleet thinking, authorizing a covert operation onto an Orion ship? Do they want to start a war?”

“Don’t get me started on Starfleet,” Nogura said, shaking his head. “I didn’t know about the rescue mission until after it failed. Starfleet Command is worried about how much damage Reyes can do if he’s interrogated and broken by the Orions or whoever else they hire to work on him.” He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a real threat, because they have to know we’re watching, and if we catch wind of anything like that taking place, they also have to know that I won’t hesitate to flush every regulation down the toilet before sending an armed boarding party to that ship and running our flag up the mast.” He paused, offering a small, humorless smile. “Figuratively speaking, of course. Regardless, you can be sure I’ll be getting answers from Headquarters about all of this, and damned soon.”

Appearing not to be comforted by that declaration, Moyer said, “This is just the latest addition to a very long list of things which have happened since we established a presence here. Diego Reyes sacrificed his career because he felt much of what was going on here was wrong. Not everything, but some things.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I agree with his choices, and we can argue all day about whether this action or that decision was necessary, but some things can’t be argued.”

Struck by the passion behind her words, Nogura was forced to nod in agreement. “You’re right, Commander. Some things can’t be argued. History will have to judge whether the steps we took here were the right ones, but for now, all we can do is follow our orders, and our conscience. When those two are in conflict, then we simply must do the best we can, and hope that we’re guided by sound principles and the best interests of everyone who stands to be affected by what we allow—or don’t allow—to happen here.”

Moyer frowned. “I’ll be honest, Admiral; I don’t see that happening. Instead, I see a lot of sneaking around, trying to get the drop on the Orions or the Klingons or whoever stands in our way. I understand that we need to keep the Klingons from getting their hands on Shedai technology, but if we end up in a war against the Empire, then what have we saved? How many people have died since that first meta-genome sample was found? How many more have to die to preserve this secret?”