“But,” continued Burgoyne, “I believe there may be issues at work here that you haven’t considered ... not the least of which is that Tridentmay see this as an encroachment.”

“I’m aware of that, Burgy,” said Calhoun with a mildly regretful sigh.

“And that doesn’t concern you?”

“Yes. It concerns me. But Burgy ... I didn’t trust the Danteri from the get-go. They subjugated my people. They always have other motives. And the Beings were malevolent rather than beneficent. McHenry saw right through them.”

“McHenry said they were not to be trusted, and only then was the assault started,” Burgoyne reminded him.

“What are you saying? That the attack was McHenry’sfault?”

“No. It likely would have come sooner or later anyway. But his sentiments likely triggered it. I’m simply saying, Captain,” s/he continued quickly when s/he saw the increasing clouding of Calhoun’s face. “I’m simply saying that Captain Shelby, considering her lack of personal animus with the Beings, might be the ideal choice of officer to be on the scene at Danter.”

“You’re right, Burgy. She might be.” Then his face hardened. “But she might not. And I’m not interested in playing the odds. Not when my presence can double them in our favor. Now ... let’s get this boat under way.”

II.

Robin Lefler was seated at her ops station, moving her hands slowly over the totally rebuilt surface of the controls. There was no trace of the damage that had been done during the attack. It was almost as if the assault by the Beings were imaginary. If the evidence was gone, it was just that much easier to sweep the reality away into the farthest recesses of recollection.

Well, that was why she had wanted to get rid of the holoimage of her mother, wasn’t it? As selfish as that had been? By banishing that ... that thingfrom existence, it would be that much easier for Robin to avoid thinking about her. Just toss her from her mind, erase any feelings of hurt or love or ... or anything. Just be nice and blissfully numb over the loss of the one individual in her life whom she had never known quite how to relate to.

On the screen in front of her was the steady image of Starbase 27 as they continued their leisurely orbit around it. Her gaze wandered from the rather boring view over toward the conn station. Fully repaired, gleaming and new, it nevertheless looked pitifully empty. In addition to McHenry, two backup navigation officers had been killed during the attack of the Beings. Naturally there were crewmen who could fill in in a pinch, but Starfleet had dispatched two new officers to cover the day and night shifts. They were expected to arrive within the next three days.

Devereaux was finishing some work at the tactical station, as Zak Kebron stood near and glowered down at him. It was obviously distracting the hell out of Devereaux, but he lacked the nerve to say anything about it. She couldn’t entirely blame him; Kebron could be a daunting figure when he wanted to be. Or even when he didn’t want to be.

Then Devereaux looked up as the door to the captain’s ready room slid open. “Captain on the bridge,” he barked out.

The rest of the crew had long since given up sending odd looks Devereaux’s way. There were indeed some Starfleet captains who preferred the ceremonial announcement whenever the top-ranked commanding officer set foot on the bridge. But Calhoun’s priorities did not lie in that direction. The first time Devereaux had bellowed the proclamation, Calhoun had told him quite politely that it wasn’t necessary. That everyone in the place had eyes and could see him just fine.

Devereaux, equally politely, had told him that—the way he was raised in a family that had followed a tradition of Starfleet service for two centuries—there was simply no option. He had sworn to Calhoun that he would try to restrain himself. Sometimes he managed to refrain from saying it at all, and other times he said it softly. Every so often, though, he just had to let it out. Calhoun simply shrugged it off. Lefler had even begun to suspect that—on some level—the captain kind of liked it. At the very least, he seemed to get a kick out of the way everyone looked at Devereaux.

Instead of heading to the captain’s chair, Calhoun stopped a few feet from the exit of the ready room and said, “Mr. Devereaux ... three hours ago you told me your work on the computer core would be completed. Because I’m a generous sort of fellow, I’ve given you three hours and two minutes. Where do we stand?”

“We stand completed, Captain,” said Devereaux briskly. “The entire system has been stripped down, flushed out, buffed up, and is ready to go. And without so much as the loss of a single operating system for so much as a minute.”

“There are fewer great satisfactions than that of self,” Calhoun replied solemnly.

For her part, Robin felt a distinct sinking sensation. She felt ... unclean. Ungrateful. Hell, she had to be candid with herself: Even though she knew there was no basis in fact to feel that way, it was as if she had somehow condemned her mother to death with her own hand.

“All right then,” said Calhoun after a moment. “Impress me, Mr. Devereaux.”

“Computer,” Devereaux called.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the computer voice filtered through the bridge. “Working.”

The voice was jolting for Robin. She’d never fully realized, now that Morgan was gone, just how much the computer voice—even under normal circumstances—sounded like her. She’d noted a resemblance in the past, but now ... now it felt as if the same woman was speaking.

Devereaux looked to Calhoun expectantly. Calhoun merely shrugged, waiting. So Devereaux said, “Computer: List all ships currently active in Starfleet registry.”

“Specify order: Alphabetically by ship name, in order of date of registry, or numerically by registration number.”

Devereaux started to respond, but Calhoun cut in and said quietly, “Computer, you choose.”

The computer proceeded to rattle off with crisp, cool, and monotone efficiency every starship, transport, troop ship ... everything that had a Starfleet registration number. It listed them alphabetically, beginning with the Adelphi.By the time it got to the Ellison,Calhoun had obviously heard enough and made a throat-cutting gesture.

But there was something going on that Lefler couldn’t quite understand. She saw a look of quiet contemplation on Calhoun, as if he was comprehending something that was simply not obvious to Robin Lefler at all.

“Computer, begin running diagnostic checks on all systems. Report when completed.” He turned to Calhoun and said, “Satisfied, Captain?” But even Devereaux seemed a bit puzzled by something.

Then Lefler realized what it was, or at least she thought she did. It was exceedingly odd that the computer had responded at all when Calhoun had given it a choice of what order to list the vessels. It really should have said “Unable to comply” or “Specification required.” Still, it was entirely possible that there was simply some sort of default program or setting.

“Computer,” Calhoun said suddenly, “access personnel file,” and his gaze swiveled over to Robin, “Lieutenant Robin Lefler.”

“Accessing,” the computer said without hesitation.

Lefler frowned, not understanding at all what the purpose of this was.

“Captain ... ?” said Devereaux, also clearly bewildered.

Calhoun ignored him. “Computer ... read out the entirety of Robin Lefler’s personal medical history. All details. Then her psych profile. All details. As a matter of fact,” he continued, “access her personal log. Read that out, too. Begin with that.”

Robin’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Captain!”she said in shock.

“Captain Calhoun, I must protest,” said Devereaux. “There’s many other ways to test computer efficiency!”