Hriss was a hunter, and while the art certainly employed stillness and quiet from time to time, it was only the quick bloody action of the culmination that brought sparkle to her eyes.

  She amused herself by varying the path she took on her circuit of the hangar deck. Instead of simply walking the length and breadth of the place in the same clockwork fashion, Hriss devised a complex patrol pattern that involved climbing the nearly frictionless walls up to the shadowy heights and leaping from shuttle roof to shuttle roof as silently as possible.

  She had just landed atop the massive, larger-than-normal heavy-duty shuttle Ellingtonand was eyeing the Marsalisas the site of her next perch when Mr. Jaza entered the hangar. He was followed in short order by Chief Engineer Ra-Havreii, who was obviously well into a snit.

  “I’m telling you,” said the Bajoran scientist sharply, turning on the engineer. “It can’t work.”

  “It can,” said Ra-Havreii. “When I was with the Skunk-works, we-”

  “I don’t need to hear another dissertation about your great past, Commander,” said Jaza, cutting him off. “Everyone has a past.”

  “True,” said the Efrosian. “But mine mostly involves research and discovery rather than, say, blowing up random Cardassians to make some arcane political point.”

  Hriss had never worked with Bajorans before coming aboard Titanand really not much since. Thus far the best she could tell about them was that they didn’t smell as much like prey as other humanoids, which was a blessing. It was so hard sometimes not to just tear one of the furless apes open and eat, especially after pulling a double shift without a meal break.

  Mr. Jaza was broad across the chest and long of limb like a Caitian male, and the hue of his flesh matched some of their coats. He was obviously intelligent. Starfleet valued that over blood skills for reasons Hriss sometimes still didn’t quite grasp. You couldn’t rise high in the sciences without a laser-sharp mind.

  Hsuuri worked with Jaza closely and claimed to actually admire the man. Hsuuri was an odd one. She also seemed to have “admiration” for that skinny Cardassian creature, Dakal, having expressed clear appreciation about the changes in his scent whenever they were close. In fact, much to Hriss’s distaste, she seemed to entertain the notion of exploring his obvious affection for her in depth.

   Blech!Humans were one thing. Despite smelling like a good meal, some of them could be occasionally compelling. But Cardassians, with all those ridges and the constant odor of day-old preth? Never. She’d sooner bed down with Dr. Ree. Luckily she had Rriarr to keep her warm. Caitian males might be boastful and lazy, but they had their pleasant qualities as well.

  Hriss was gratified that, thus far, neither of the senior officers had marked her presence; even the engineer’s Efrosian ears weren’t good enough for that. Though protocol required her to make her presence known to them, something in their postures told her it might be best to let them think they were alone for the time being.

  “Is that what the problem is?” said Mr. Jaza, squaring off before the taller man. “That I was in the resistance?”

  The engineer snorted. “Let’s just say, while you were tossing bombs and dodging plasma bolts, I was reshaping warp theory.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning,” said Ra-Havreii, “in matters of anything related to warp cores, warp propulsion, warp bubbles, warp theory, or warp technology, you would be wise to defer.”

  “ Titancan’t sustain a stable warp field, Doctor,” said Mr. Jaza. “No amount of deference is going to change that.”

  “And what was it you said earlier about minds opening and closing, Mr. Jaza?”

  Jaza’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’re a specialist,” the science officer said finally. “Specifically adapted to one set of tasks.” He moved past Ra-Havreii, their shoulders brushing hard against each other briefly before he dropped into a crouch beside the Ellington. “But warp physics doesn’t bypass quantum physics in every case.” He gestured at the visible nacelle that ran the length of the shuttle’s hull. “As long as the shuttle is inside the hangar bay, protected by Titan’s hull, it is possible we could form a stable warp field around it,” he said. “But, the second it goes outside, the same randomization of quantum properties that’s causing Titan’s problems will take effect. Even if you account for momentum and inertia-”

  The science officer stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes were wide and his mouth frozen open in mid-sentence so that he reminded Hriss of a shetrcalf she’d once stunned and then eaten. The look on his face was so suddenly comical that she was forced to stifle a chuckle.

  Mr. Jaza stood and, ignoring Ra-Havreii completely, began to walk slowly around the edge of the Ellington.

  Above him, hidden by shadows on the roof of the Marsalis, Hriss was struck again by how similar Mr. Jaza was to one of the males from back home.

   He’s stalking something, she thought. He’s definitely on the hunt.

  As the science officer walked, Ra-Havreii continued to lecture him about the vagaries of warp fields and how, with just a little creativity, he was sure they’d be able to light up the heavy-duty shuttles and use them to tow Titanto safety.

  “No. We won’t,” said Jaza, rounding the far corner of the Ellington, returning briefly to his original spot beside the engineer. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Please don’t take offense, Mr. Jaza,” said the Efrosian. “But I sincerely doubt that.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Vale, silently praying she’d misheard or misunderstood. “You want us to what?”

  Jaza repeated himself, outlining the hows and whys and the benefits and drawbacks of his notion and watched as his XO blanched at the thought.

  “That’s insane,” she said finally.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But it should work for something the size, mass, and particularly the shape of a shuttle.”

  In clear desperation Vale looked to Xin Ra-Havreii, hoping that, at the very least, the friction he’d developed with Jaza might inspire him to throw a spanner into the works. No such luck. The engineer only stood by, stroking the edges of his mustache, humming that blasted tune, apparently lost in thought. Wonderful.

  “You’ll destroy the hangar,” she said. “At least.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Jaza. “If we do this right, we’ll just ding it up a bit. We’re only talking about a microsecond or two. Barely enough time to perceive, much less do serious damage.”

  “I don’t know, Najem.” She was more than dubious. This was one of those insane schemes that would probably work but, if it didn’t, could make their current situation astronomically worse. Not to mention killing several indispensable members of her crew.

  “It’ll work, Chris,” said Jaza softly, noting her distress and placing a big gentle hand on her arm. The grip was firm, familiar, almost reassuring. “Just take it to the captain and let him decide.”

  “He wants to what?” said Will Riker from behind his desk at the far side of the ready room. He’d been cloistered away in there for the last couple of hours wrestling with his conscience, and it showed.

  The captain’s eyes had taken on that stony distant quality that Vale had learned to recognize and dislike. His jaw was clenched, set in a way that somehow made his features, normally puckish and engaging, into something that seemed carved from granite. Captains needed this quality of dispassionate calculation if they hoped to make the tough decisions, but she hated to see it evidenced so strongly in Will.

  She also noted, for the first time, the stark contrast between the offices of Counselor Troi and her husband’s ready room. While Troi’s domain was rife with personal touches meant to put visitors at ease, Riker’s was as impersonal as a room could be.