“Yes, quite a few times, in fact,” Elias Vaughn replied without looking up, seated on the doctor’s left and eating from a pack Bashir could see was labeled “Arroz con Pollo.” Vaughn consumed a forkful and added, “You’re attitude surprises me, Doctor. Colonel Kira once mentioned that you fought to get assigned to DS9 specifically so you could rough it on the frontier.”

Bashir winced, recalling that first day on the station. He’d been an overeager junior-grade lieutenant, and as his first official act, he’d successfully managed to offend the station’s first officer, then-Major Kira, by describing Bajor and the space around it as a “wilderness” in which he intended to carve out his own legend. Looking back on it, it was a wonder Nerys hadn’t decked him.

Bashir looked at Tenmei, seated opposite Vaughn and eagerly devouring her Baba Ghannoush. “Ensign Tenmei’s appetite seems unaffected,” he noted.

“Learn to live dangerously, Doctor,” she suggested playfully. “You’ll be amazedhow much you enjoy everything.”

“Remind me to make an appointment for you to see the new counselor when we get back to the station,” Bashir said. Tenmei stuck out her tongue at him as he turned back to Vaughn. “I don’t suppose Nog has had any luck at all with the replicators?” he asked.

Vaughn shook his head. “Shall I remind you whywe’re eating field rations in the first place?”

Bashir gave up. “Touché, Commander.” Being reminded that the replicator systems had been sacrificed in order to save his life, as well as those of Ezri and Nog, was an effective way to silence his complaints. Until the Defiantreturned to Deep Space 9, meals would be restricted to the ration packs, and whatever they could cook from the limited raw ingredients stored in the cargo bays.

“You know,” Vaughn said at length, “back in ’04, I was in a situation much worse than this one.”

Tenmei leaned over in Bashir’s direction. “Run for it, Doctor, before he gains a head of steam,” she advised.

“I remember it well,” Vaughn said, seemingly oblivious to Tenmei’s warning. “I was assigned to a ship that had been forced to go quiet for a month on the wrong side of the Tholian border. No replicators, no holodecks, complete radio silence. Just eighty-five people with nothing but ration packs, a library computer, and a lot of imagination.”

“I told you,” Tenmei said to Bashir in a singsong voice.

“You know, sir,” Bashir got out, “that sounds fascinating, but I just realized that I left something on in the medical bay—”

Vaughn’s hand closed around Bashir’s wrist, refusing to let him leave. “I can still recall Crewman Richards stealing the rats from the biolab for meat-loaf—”

“He did not,” Tenmei said.

Vaughn arched an eyebrow at his daughter. “Who’s telling this story, Ensign? Anyway, the point is,” Vaughn said, releasing Bashir and grabbing the tall drink at the commander’s elbow, “that compared to many who came before us, we live and work in luxury, even when deprived of some of the things we take for granted.”

“Point taken,” Bashir assured him.

Vaughn drained the last of his iced tea and smiled. “That was delicious. And you haven’t even started your meal yet.”

Bashir looked at his unopened ration pack and smiled sheepishly. “I think I’ll save it for later,” he said as he rose from the table. “For when I’m reallyhungry.” Pack in hand, Bashir nodded to his fellow officers and started for the door.

Tenmei laughed. Vaughn smiled and shook his head.

As Bashir was crossing the room, the mess hall doors parted and Ezri walked in, carrying a padd. Uh-oh,Bashir thought. I know that expression. Something’s up….

“Hi,” he said as they met up with each other. “You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Just a report I need to make to the commander. Enjoy your dinner?”

Bashir held up his ration pack. “Decided to save it. See you when you get off duty?”

“Sure. I’ll even grab one myself and we can eat together.”

“It’s a date,” Bashir said. “Try not to work too hard.”

Ezri laughed. “Where the hell were you when I decided to transfer to command?”

Bashir was already in the corridor. “Being supportive,” he called as the doors closed behind him.

Dax walked toward the table, trying not to rush. Judging from the look on Julian’s face, he’d figured out immediately that she had something to tell Vaughn. She hoped she wasn’t that obvious. Then again, Julian’s enhanced perceptions helped him to pick up on visual cues that might escape other people. Especially in someone as close to him as Ezri.

“Commander, Ensign,” Dax began. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Actually, I was just about to get going,” Prynn said, rising from her chair. “I promised Mikaela I’d look over her ideas for improving the navigational deflector.”

“If you have time, stop by my cabin later,” Vaughn said. “I found a Rowatu recording in the ship’s database that I don’t think you’ve heard.”

Prynn smiled. “Okay. 2100?”

Vaughn nodded.

Prynn bid Dax goodbye and departed the mess hall.

“It’s nice to see you two getting along so well, now,” Dax told Vaughn. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I think it agrees with both of you.”

Vaughn sighed, staring after his daughter. “Lot of wasted years to make up for. We’ve learned quite a bit about each other on this voyage.”

“She’s a good officer, too,” Dax added. “Quick, dedicated, talented. You should be proud. The next generation of Vaughns is off to a good start.”

Vaughn snorted. “Fortunately for her, she’s a Tenmei through and through.” He turned to meet Dax’s gaze, then glanced toward the padd she was holding. “So what’s up?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Dax said as she took the seat Prynn had vacated. “Sam was reviewing the datastream from the last pair of probes we sent out when one of them detected an anomaly in one of the narrower subspace strata, a layer nobody we know uses for communications because of the high background interference. There was so much white noise, in fact, Bowers admits he almost missed it. He passed it through the filters a few times to be sure, and there’s no longer any doubt: it’s a Starfleet transponder signal.” Dax handed Vaughn the padd for his perusal. “One of our people is out here, where nobody else from the Federation has ever been, as far as we know. But the signal’s not like any that Bowers or I have ever seen before. The beam is much stronger, as if it was designed to punch through all the subspace interference it was being sent through. But since ordinarily we wouldn’t look for a communications signal in that stratum, it made me wonder if it might be connected to Starfleet Intelligence or…” Dax paused, stopped by the look on Vaughn’s face. “Are you all right?”

Vaughn was frowning. Not in confusion or contemplation, as if he’d found some new puzzle to solve, but in what Dax could only characterize as denial. The look crossed his face for only a second before returning to the neutral expression he usually wore.

“Who else knows about this?” Vaughn asked quietly, still studying the data.

“Just Sam,” Dax said. “Is there something—”

“Make sure it stays that way,” Vaughn interrupted. “I don’t want either of you sharing this with anyone. Return to the bridge and engage the cloaking device immediately. Then alter course to trace this signal back to the source, maximum warp. If the crew asks—tell them not to.” Vaughn stood up and started to leave, taking the padd with him.

“You want to tell me—”

“No,” Vaughn snapped. “Just carry out my orders, Lieutenant.” At the mess hall door Vaughn stopped. “One other thing: The Sagan’s taken a beating the last couple of months. I want her better than ready in case we need her. Have a complete battery of systems diagnostics run from bow to stern, and an overhaul on the navigational array. Put Tenmei on it.”