He looked back at her, and she saw an apparently bottomless well of pain in his hard, dark eyes. “But I believe myself to be unique. Not because I am a Reman who chooses to leave his people. Nor because of the experiences that have shaped who I am today. I am unique because I am Mekrikuk. Just as you are unique because you are Deanna Troi. Neither of us could be anyone else.”

Haltingly, trusting her empathic sense of his lack of ill intent, Troi approached the biobed more closely and deactivated the restraining field. She reached toward him and grasped his hand in hers. It felt cool and rough, like un-polished marble. Its nails were long and sharp, reminding her of the delicately tapered claws of Dr. Ree, whom she knew was one of the gentlest souls she had ever encountered.

“We’re allunique, Mekrikuk,” Troi said quietly. “And I will try to do my best to remember that in the future.”

“Will Uncle Ranul ever wake up?” Noah Powell asked, his eyes as big as saucers.

Alyssa Ogawa stood behind her son in the isolation room, stroking his sleek black hair. “We don’t know yet, sweetie,” she said. “Sometimes people in comas wake up, and other times they just sleep forever.”

“Rule of Acquisition Number One Hundred and Three: Sleep can interfere with…well, a whole lot of things.” The voice behind them was grating and female. Ogawa knew that it belonged to Dr. Bralik before she even turned around.

“Hello, Bralik,” she said agreeably.

“Hi, Alyssa,” Bralik said, pulling something from her tunic. She held it out toward Noah. “And how are you, little grub? I brought you some candy!”

Noah scowled. “I didn’t like that last stuff you gave me. It tasted yucky.”

Bralik’s eyes popped wide. “The honey beetle clusters? Oh, I’m hurt.”

Ogawa tapped her son on the shoulder. “Noah, I thought I taught you to be more polite than that.”

Noah sighed dramatically and held out his hand. “Thank you for the candy, Aunt Bralik.” She deposited a hard bar of a translucent, greenish substance in his hand. He sniffed at it tentatively. “What is it?”

“Slug Slime,” Bralik said, smiling. “Now why don’t you go get Auntie Bralik some water, and she’ll forget your lapse in manners.”

As soon as Noah had scampered out of the room, Ogawa asked, “What wasthat?”

Bralik shrugged. “Slug Slime? I don’t have any idea what’s in it. But grubs of all species seem to like it.”

Ogawa snorted as Bralik sat on the chair that Noah had vacated, bringing herself level with the biobed where Ranul Keru lay.

“How is the furball, really?” Bralik asked, putting her hand on Ranul’s, atop his chest.

“We were able to get the tool out of his chest without causing much additional damage,” Ogawa said. “But he also sustained a significant head injury during the collision. There’s a good deal of brain swelling. We don’t know when he’ll wake up.”

Bralik squinted back at her. “There’s not a question of ifhe’ll wake up, is there?”

Ogawa sighed, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to admit, either aloud or even in her own mind, the possibility that Keru might die. He’d become a great friend to her aboard the Enterprise,and a wonderful “uncle” for Noah, and their relationship had grown even stronger since they had come aboard Titan.

“That’s the spirit,” Bralik said, winking broadly and aiming her words in Keru’s direction. “He’ll definitelywake up then. It’s just a question of when.” She turned back to face Ogawa and said, “Rule Number Two-hundred and sixty-seven: If youbelieve it, theybelieve it.”

Noah returned with the glass of water he’d been sent to fetch. “Here, Aunt Bralik.”

“Thanks, grub,” Bralik said, taking it. “I’m gonna need it, since I’m going to read your Uncle Ranul a story.” With her free hand, she extracted a book from her tunic.

Noah grinned. “A pirate story?”

Bralik smiled. “Of a sort. Not for little boys, though.”

Ogawa looked at the spine of the book. She was only able to make out a few words of the title, but they were enough to tell her that it was definitelytoo steamy for young ears.

“Come on, Noah, we need to check in with Dr. Ree before we leave. Mommy’s had a long shift today.”

“Okay. ’Bye, Aunt Bralik. ’Bye, Uncle Ranul.” Noah left the room ahead of Ogawa.

“ ’Bye, grub,” Bralik said.

“Good night,” Ogawa said with a smile. As she exited, she heard Bralik behind her, talking to Keru.

“Now before I start this story, I’ve got to warn you that Kent will be by later, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t try to hold your hand or anything. Once you wake up, I’ll help you find a way to let him down gently. You know me. The soul of tact.”

As she walked away, Ogawa heard the sound of Bralik’s book falling to the floor, followed by the Ferengi’s soft, ragged, uncontrolled sobs.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Christine Vale asked.

Dr. Xin Ra-Havreii rubbed his temple. “Becoming your chief engineer? Well, some of my colleagues would undoubtedly think it beneath them. But they haven’t had quite the thrill-ride of a career that I’ve had.”

Vale sat on the edge of Ledrah’s desk. She still expected to see the Tiburon woman sitting there, her bluish hair spiked upward. In her place sat the middle-aged Efrosian male who had designed Titanand had overseen her construction.

“I heard about what happened aboard Luna,”she said quietly. “But I also know you were cleared of any culpability.”

Ra-Havreii offered her a wan smile. “Cleared of all culpability is very different from being found innocent, Commander. You may not blame me, and Starfleet may not blame me, but the men and women of Utopia Planitia don’t share that magnanimity. Nor do the families of Luna’s crew.”

Or yourself,Vale thought, as Ra-Havreii lapsed once again into woolgathering.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea at all,” Vale said. “Being a starship’s chief engineer isn’t quite the same as working at Utopia Planitia. Thanks for offering to take over in engineering, but—”

Ra-Havreii suddenly came out of his funk. “I think I needto do this job, Commander. At least until you find a permanent replacement.”

“But why?”

“Perhaps to maintain what I have helped to create,” he said. “And perhaps…to atone,” he said. Once again, he lapsed into pensive silence—though he was staring straight at her chest. Deanna, you just may have your work cut out for you,Vale thought. I hope I don’t regret this, but I need a good chief engineer.

She knocked on the desktop, then pointed to her eyes with forked fingers. “Hey, eyes here.”Once she had the engineer’s attention again, she continued. “Okay, so the first rule, now that I outrank you, is this: no pity parties on my watch. I’ve never worked in engineering, though I’ve helped the SCE on a few missions. But I come from a long line of peace officers, and let me tell you, they were none too happy when I left the family business to enroll in the Academy.

“It didn’t seem to matter to them that I went into security while in Starfleet. Or that I’ve gotten a whole pile of commendations over the years. Hell, I haven’t even told them that I’m the first officer of Titanyet. I may not be exactly living up to their expectations, but I’m damn well doing a good job at something I think is important.”

Ra-Havreii stared her straight in the eyes, almost defiantly. “Having your peers think you’re a dangerous failure is a bit different from disappointing your family.”

“Yes, it is,” Vale said. “But the biggest difference is how you react to it. So you’ve had two tragedies on your watch? This ship, yourship, held together today, and you’re a big part of the reason for that. And there’s no reasonable way you can blame yourself for Nidani’s death. You didn’t dump that hull debris on top of Titan,and it’s awfully hard creating a contingency plan that’ll be of any use when something like that happens. An earlier class of ship might not even have survivedtoday’s battle.”