Vale made a quick decision. “Hold on just a moment, Fo. May I see you in the ready room, please?”

He looked puzzled. “Certain.”

They stepped into the captain’s empty ready room, the doors sliding closed behind them. Despite the fact that she was specifically authorized to use the room when she had control of the bridge, this was the first time she had been in the room without Riker. She immediately felt uncomfortable. But rather than appear indecisive— and Ido have the right to be in here,she reminded herself—she decided to just sit on the edge of the desk instead of in the large chair behind it.

She looked Hachesa squarely in the eyes. “Commander, I noticed that you made two references that were denigrating to other species just now. First the Klingons, then the Romulans.”

He looked wounded. “I didn’t meaning anything negative by it, sir. I was just try to be humorous.”

“I realize that,” Vale said, “but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable. When you are in command of the bridge, especiallyin the absence of any immediate provocation, species-related slurs set a bad example for the crew. It would be one thing if a drunken Klingon had just hailed us, but to cast all Klingons as drunkards undermines the trust this crew needs to have in them during this mission. The same with the Romulans. We’re in their space, and Donatra represents one of our few allies here. We need to be supportive of her.”

“I understanding, Commander,” Hachesa said, though his eyes narrowed a bit, giving him a defiant, sullen aspect.

Vale wasn’t certain that he didunderstand, but pressing the point further seemed futile. If interspecies amity was indeed a big part of Titan’s ongoing mission, she knew she had to lead by example. With a tolerant smile, she said, “Good. I don’t expect it will be an issue any longer, then. Thank you, Commander.”

“Am I dismiss?”

“Yes. Go get some sack time or some grub.”

“Yes, sir.” Hachesa spun on his heels and stepped toward the door.

Vale watched him leave. He needs to learn to handle criticism a bit better, too,she thought. Otherwise he’s not going to do well on the command track, no matter how many other crew members actually seem to enjoy his kidding around.Again she considered making Troi aware of the situation.

Stepping through the ready room doorway and back onto the bridge, Vale saw that the gamma-to-alpha shift change was under way, though there were still several minutes left until the gamma shift officially ended.

She approached Science Officer Jaza, who was working at his station on the bridge’s starboard side.

“How goes the deployment of the new sensor nets, Mister Jaza?” she asked. Although Titan’s current mission was one of interstellar diplomacy, there was no reason the science staff had to sit on its hands. Romulan space was filled with objects and phenomena about which Starfleet wanted to gather information.

“Most of the work was done by Ensign Ichi on the gamma shift,” he said, “though it appears that K’chak’!’op was an invaluable aid as well.” Jaza pronounced the name crisply as “Chaka.”

“K’chak’!’op was onthe bridge?” Vale asked in wonder. The Pak’shree computer specialist so rarely left her quarters.

“No,” Jaza said with a smile. “She worked from her den, as usual. I truly think she feels a lot less clumsy there, without us bipedal humanoid types around to distract her.”

“So, what do the new sensors tell us?”

On Riker’s orders, Vale had tasked the crew with deploying a series of wide-band, high-resolution sensor nets, specially calibrated to detect cloaked Romulan ships as well as other dangers. While these instruments couldn’t locate or track such ships directly, they could, at least in theory, detect anomalies such as the moving “blank spaces” created by their warp fields, or the telltale gravitons that leaked from even the most heavily shielded cloaking systems.

Unfortunately, the energy required to sustain such a heightened state of sensor acuity placed significant demands on Titan’s power output, effectively compromising her shields and weaponry. Another reason to be thankful for Klingon escorts,Vale thought. Though the idea of lowering Titan’s defenses while moving ever deeper into Romulan space didn’t sit well with her, she had to agree that the security trade-off Captain Riker had made was a wise one, under the circumstances; Titanwould spot any approaching dangers, advise the Klingons, and then let them do what they did best, should the need arise.

Vale knew that Dr. Ra-Havreii, Titan’s designer, was even now working with Lieutenant Commander Ledrah and several members of her crack engineering staff on reducing the sensor net’s energy cost, though they had failed to tumble onto any significant breakthroughs since Titanhad left Utopia Planitia. Still, as far as she knew, Titanwas the only Starfleet vessel currently using this experimental technology.

Jaza interrupted her thoughts, pointing out several multicolored graphics that were scrolling by on the wall-mounted monitor screen. “So far, we haven’t detected any ships other than those of our convoy. We’re mostly encountering dust, rock, and ice particles, ranging from microscopic to about the size of your head. Nothing much different than the flotsam that appears in the Denorios Belt whenever the Celestial Temple burps.”

Jaza’s casual reference to the home of his people’s alleged gods reminded Vale momentarily that he was one of the Bajoran faithful. Not that it wasn’t obvious—he did wear the traditional Bajoran earring on his right ear—but she wasn’t particularly religious herself, so she tended not to dwell on such things.

“Only this flotsam is a little less, um, sacred,” Vale teased.

Jaza shrugged. “Flotsam is flotsam. It’s no different when the Prophets sweep it out of the Temple than it is when it’s carried off of an asteroid by the stellar winds. Are the contents of the trash cans in human churches, mosques, or temples touched by some Terran or Izarian deity?”

“I’ve never had much time for gods or goddesses myself,” Vale said. She wasn’t certain why she was admitting this right on the bridge. But Jaza’s serene presence made her feel utterly at ease.

“Understandable,” he said, nodding. “Many who work in the sciences feel similarly.” He placed his hands upon his heart. “I try instead to integrate my faith in science with my faith in the Prophets. Truth is truth, whether spiritual or scientific. As long as I seek truth in either sphere, I will continue to grow and evolve, as does the universe itself.”

Vale smiled, touched by his sincerity. How very Zen he is,she thought. Not to mention attractive and single.Perhaps when they weren’t preoccupied with an urgent mission she could arrange to spend some time with him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone on a date.

She forced the thought aside. Jaza wasn’t just a colleague—he was a subordinate. Dating him would therefore be absolutely inappropriate.

As inappropriate as marrying him?asked a peevish voice in the back of her head—the same voice that had raised her initial objections to Captain Riker’s decision to make his wife a member of his senior staff.

She noticed then that Jaza was staring at her curiously. Had he been having any of the same thoughts?

Before the awkwardly silent moment could stretch further, the computer let out a staccato series of beeps. New blocks of text and graphics began scrolling in columns onto Jaza’s monitor.

“Hmm, this is odd,” he said, frowning as he studied the emerging data. “Our long-range scans are picking up some kind of spatial anomaly. It appears to be located inside Romulan space only a few hours away from Romulus itself at high warp.”

“What kind of spatial anomaly?” Vale asked, resisting the urge to immediately tap the combadge on her chest and call the captain to the bridge. It was the kind of move she would have made without hesitation while serving as security chief aboard the Enterprise.But she was in command in Riker’s absence, and he was probably on his way up to check in with the newly arrived alpha shift anyhow.