The planet T’ien was paradise below them, its tower-cities reaching toward the sky and promising endless possibilities. Above was inferno, two massive fleets ripping each other apart. William Jenner was in purgatory, an island of calm in the midst of the madness.

It would not remain calm long.

Reports echoed through the bridge of ships lost, enemies destroyed. His command – Joint Alliance Command Valoris Sector – was massed here, tasked with protecting the Federation and independent worlds along the border from the Dominion fleet while harassing those same fleets to keep them from moving to the more critical Cardassia front. Today, there was only T’ien.

Out past the planet’s third and largest moon, the tactical displays showed the Dominion’s reserve force. Another thirty ships, atop the ninety-seven they had committed to this attack. Most of the initial force had been Jem’hadar and Cardassians. Expendable, by the calculus of the creature who commanded them.

The reserve fleet consisted entirely of Breen vessels, including the command ship. Gar’evek, the personal dreadnought of Thot Thanget.

In their brief time fighting each other, Thanget and Jenner had come to know one another quite well. A dozen engagements in a month’s time made for a relationship as intimate as many longtime friends, and that bond was built on blood spilled. Jenner’s command was a force cobbled together with what could be brought to bear quickly after the Breen hit Earth, what could be spared from refits and the Cardassian front, and the work they did was brutally dangerous.

Warspite and Mekh’ta fell under Jem’hadar weapons.

“Bring us up to cover the gap,” Jenner said. It was best not to move the flagship into direct fighting, but ten billion people called T’ien home. People Jenner knew well.

Zetian’s people. And, because they were her people, his people.

South Carolina was the ship that could fill the gap before the Dominion broke through it.

“Course set, Admiral,” Ensign Valaya said. She was the helmswoman, and one of the best pilots the Academy had produced this year. She got the big ship to move in startling and impressive ways.

“Three Jem’hadar attack ships on attack course!” Lieutenant Markin called out from Ops, and the bridge exploded in activity. Suddenly, the crew was thrown directly into the fight, and Captain T’Val spoke clearly above the din. Jenner, for his part, kept his attention on the larger battle. He shifted his weight as the ship rocked and shuddered.

“Direct hit! Target destroyed!”

“Forward shields at 75 percent!”

“Concentrate fire on the Cardassian cruiser,” T’Val said.

Jenner left command of the ship to T’Val. His eyes had to be on the fleet. “Frigate wings, attack the enemy’s left flank. Warbirds to the center. Starfleet heavy ships to support the warbird attack.”

The Dominion line buckled as the huge Romulan ships hit it, their disruptors and plasma torpedoes tearing through shields and hulls. Since joining the war, the Romulans had been an indispensable ally; Jenner barely remembered what it had been to fight without them. As the Romulans opened a hole in the Dominion fleet, the big Starfleet cruisers pushed through, introducing chaos to the structured Cardassian ranks and cutting Jem’hadar attack ships off from their support.

The battle was theirs. Jenner’s people would leave blood and lives in orbit of T’ien, but the battle was theirs.

“Warp signatures!” Markin called out. “Identifying… the Breen reserves!”

“They’re hitting the Klingons on our left,” Valaya said. “They’re not going to hold!” Indeed, even as she spoke, Jenner saw it. Gar’evek had come in hard, dropping out of warp in punching range of two squadrons of birds of prey before annihilating them with her torpedoes. Even as more Klingon ships broke off to pursue, Thanget pushed forward.

He can’t take the system. Even with his reserves, he’s not going to win here. Why would he… He felt the blood drain from him. “All available ships, move to intercept Gar’evek. That means us!”

T’Val gestured forward. “Full speed.”

South Carolina broke away from her fight, diving with all speed toward the planet, racing to reach an intercept point before Thanget achieved his target. The Klingons harried the dreadnought, but Gar’evek shrugged them off, disruptors lancing at birds of prey like a man swatting flies. As they approached, Valaya and Markin spoke at once.

“We’re in weapons range!”

“Gar’evek firing!”

And two volleys of torpedoes appeared on Jenner’s tactical display. The nearer, from South Carolina, streaked toward Gar’evek. The aim was perfect, and there was no way the dreadnought could maneuver to avoid them.

The second was from Gar’evek, and their target wasn’t the Starfleet ship. It was the planet below. Jenner heard a cry of rage and frustration and helplessness and despair. It would be days before he understood that it was his own.

The tower-city of Fortune’s Promise was hit by two of the Breen torpedoes.

“Gar’evek is hit,” Markin said. “Hull breaches on multiple decks. She has gone to warp.”

“The Dominion fleet is withdrawing,” Valaya said. “Klingons are in pursuit.”

Jenner spoke quietly. “Call them back.”

History on Earth would recall the Battle of T’ien as a victory for the Alliance. An entire sector held, significant Dominion reserves kept away from the Battle of Cardassia.

On T’ien, a year later, a monument was erected on the site of Fortune’s Promise, to remember the brave souls of Starfleet and the Klingon Empire and the Romulan Empire who had fought and died to keep that world safe, and the five hundred million civilians dead in one horrible moment.

Her third morning waking in this new bed, and Li Ling Ailiang an Hark an Jenner – Ailiang to her friends, Ensign Li Ling to her crewmates – was still plagued by nightmares of being devoured by an enormous confection. A marshmallow, her classmates at Starfleet Academy had called it during their camping trip in the Olympic Mountains, and an essential ingredient in the traditional rustic snack the people of Earth called S’mores.

The bed was too soft. Far softer than the bunk she’d slept in on Roosevelt Station, softer even than her childhood bed in Freedom’s Promise where she’d grown up the only daughter of the leader of the small star nation to which she had been born. Starfleet seemed convinced that comfort could keep morale up on a heavy cruiser, and that what comfort looked like for humans of any descent was a soft mattress filled with advanced synthetic fibers and a thick comforter.

Maybe it was, at that. For all that the bed inspired nightmares and an instinctive sense of guilt, she found herself reluctant to leave it, to put feet on the hard floor through the thin carpet. Still, her mothers had not raised a layabout, so she cast the comforter off and sat up before rising from the bed.

She was more awake after her sonic shower, but she still replicated a mug of chicory coffee with milk – a favorite of her father, who had picked up the habit during his own Academy years from a good friend. Vile, bitter stuff, but it knocked what little sleepiness she had left out of her. She took sips as she sat once more on the bed, her robe tickling her ankles as she reached for her PADD. Only a few messages – one from her birth mother congratulating her on her new assignment, another from her second mother asking when she might have leave to return to Lagash. Three from Academy friends, two operational reports from the other shifts indicating that all was well at the helm. She smiled at that last, lifting her eyes from the PADD to gaze at the viewports across from the bed.

They darkened when she slept, but when her alarm activated they’d gone transparent once more, revealing space at warp in all its glory. Her quarters were at the forward point of Deck 3, and the sight of warp travel face-on always awed her. The stars streaked by, seeming to manifest at the center of the wide viewport before shooting off in all directions.

Changing into her uniform was quick, and Ailiang fastened her rank pips to her chest before affixing her commbadge and heading out the door. The corridors were wide, bright, a sterile white and grey that felt simultaneously dignified and lifeless. She had, until arriving at the Academy, lived nearly her entire life indoors or on ships, most of it in the tower-city of Freedom’s Promise where she had been raised. But in Fortune’s Promise, artificial sunlight had stimulated the growth of plants that lined the corridors, while artwork – both framed works and murals – had given life to the duranium walls. Roosevelt Station, where she had last been posted, had walls of stone as often as of duranium, and even that dark Breen-built place had felt more real than the corridors of Starfleet’s cruiser.

Maybe she could talk Captain Enigma into putting up artwork.

She was nearly at the turbolift when her commbadge chirped. “Ensign Li Ling, please report to the observation lounge for a staff briefing.”

“Aye,” Ailiang said, stepping into the lift.

“Deck 2.”

“I say no, Captain!” The voice that came through the door as it opened for Ailiang was gruff, deep, firm, and in no way sounded like it came from a man as diminutive as Lieutenant Kdar Fnorch. The Tellarite was the ship’s chief science officer, and he tugged at his beard as he strove in his seat for every inch of height he could find. “Your conclusion is wrong because your evidence is weak, and your evidence is weak because your thinking is muddled!”

“I’ll concede your point, Lieutenant.” Captain Eden Seraphina Starling-Enigma was barely taller than her science officer, but she sat at ease, as comfortable with her stature as anyone Ailiang had ever met. Her dark eyes swept to the door, and she offered a small smile – a secret one, one few who did not know her well would see – and gestured for Ailiang to join them at the table. “If only because I am nothing approaching an expert on Talaxian anthropology, and because, since everyone is here now, we need to start the actual briefing. If you’d like the schedule our next argument, you can speak to my yeoman.”

Ailiang tensed at that thought as she slid into her seat, but Fnorch glared at Enigma. “You don’t have a yeoman yet, Captain.”

“And when I do, I’ll have the time needed to give a debate with you the attention it truly deserves.” Enigma tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Kirlas, report.”

As much as Fnorch’s attitude would have frustrated most humans – and most Betazoids – Fnorch held a seat of esteem at the briefing table, sitting at the captain’s left hand. Opposite him was a woman who seemed in every way his opposite – beautiful, poised, graceful. Tall. Taller even than Ailiang herself. Commander Kirlas Trem was a Bajoran, and even the young crew of the Al-Batani had already started to see her as an ideal officer.

“Ship operations are optimal,” Kirlas said, her voice soft but commanding. Kirlas could speak in a whisper and hold the attention of a room, even delivering a simple operational report. “We are still short senior staff, however… Puyallup was delayed again, and our Chief Medical Officer and Chief Engineer will have to rendezvous with us at our destination.”

Enigma sighed. “Is there any word on why they’ve been delayed?”

“Yes, Captain,” Kirlas said. “They were instructed by Commodore Stafford to stop at Farpoint Station to pick up two junior staff, but the junior staff were themselves late because Commander Karinu – your successor on Roosevelt – held them to finish some unexpected work.”

Enigma nodded. “Frontier command, then.” She rose to her feet. “You’ll need to tell them to meet us at Alim IV, then, because that is our destination. Orders are in from Starfleet Command.”

Kirlas frowned. “That’s… a Cardassian colony, right? But on our side of the border?”

“Nearly,” Enigma said. “There are two different colonies on the planet. One is Cardassian, though they claim to be independent of the central government. The other is Kolamite.” She tapped the screen on the wall behind her seat, and an image of a humanoid appeared. A man, his skin a deep crimson, his hair stiff and wiry. He himself was bulky, solid, and a keratinized crest rose along his shoulders, arching just far enough behind his head to allow him to tilt his head back. “The Kolamites are newcomers to the stellar community… first contact was made seven years ago, two years after their first warp flight. Their first alien contacts were Starfleet and the Kzinti.”

“Quite the welcome.” That was Inaree. The Saurian’s large eyes blinked slowly as she watched the figure on the screen slowly rotate.

“One they navigated well enough to survive,” Enigma said. “They now have three colonies outside their home system, counting the one on Alim IV.”

“Captain, what are our orders?” Inaree tilted her head, large eyes blinking.

“There is an ongoing conflict over fishing rights between the Cardassian and Kolamite colonies,” Enigma said. “Both sides have agreed to arbitration, and agreed to accept Starfleet as an arbiter. We are to resolve the disagreement.”

Fnorch’s eyes narrowed, and he brushed a hand along his tusk. “That’s a Cali job, Captain. Fish?”

Enigma shook her head. “Not when the Cardassians are involved. Whatever these colonists might say about being an independent settlement, the Cardassian government will see them as Cardassian first, and that makes this a problem with broader implications.” She returned to her seat. “Fnorch, I want anthropological data on the Kolamites and information on possible food sources on Alim IV. Inaree, a list of Federation, Kolamite, and Cardassian strategic assets in the sector. Kirlas, contact other colonies in the area and see what they have and need for trade. Dismissed.”

The three named officers made their way out of the room, leaving Ailiang alone there with Captain Enigma. The captain looked at her PADD for a long moment before meeting Ailiang’s eyes briefly. “Yes?”

Ailiang blushed. “Sorry, Captain. Force of habit…”

Enigma shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. “You’re not my yeoman any more, Ailiang, but I do hope you’re still my friend.”

“Always.” Ailing rose, taking the seat that Kirlas had vacated a few moments prior. “And something’s bothering you.”

“You know me too well. Someone should never know their captain this well.” Enigma rose and made her way to the viewport to watch the stars, and Ailiang followed her. She’s always been more comfortable looking at work or the stars than at the person she was talking to. “Ailiang… when I’m not certain what to do, I’ve always asked myself what our parents would advise. My father, your father and mothers. Between the four of them, I’ve always found the wisdom I’ve needed to guide me. But this…” her eyes fell closed. “I’m a soldier at heart, Ailiang. On Sovereign I fought. Working for Admiral Pinna, I analyzed. On Roosevelt, I held together the informal alliance that kept the Breen on their side of the Valoris. But it was always as a soldier. What do I know about fishing rights?”

Ailiang tilted her head. “I don’t know what my father would say,” she said. “But my birth-mother would remind you that a fleet still moves on its stomach, and my second mother would say that someone who was just a soldier wouldn’t have earned her trust like you have.” She looked down at the captain’s pensive face. “And I think your father would remind you just how much you know about fish after all, since he taught you. Or have you forgotten the Kzinti diplomat and your famous fried catfish?”

Eden laughed at that, a smile showing itself. “I remember us spending three hours avoiding mentioning what the fish was called,” she said, her voice lighter. “Thank you.”

“Captain,” Ailiang said. “I’ve known you almost as long as I can remember. Most of the other crew on Roosevelt saw the way you threw yourself into danger and thought you thought yourself invincible, then saw how you came out the other side and a lot of them decided you must really be invincible. But I’ve seen you cry on my mothers’ shoulders and had dinner at your family home. I know you underestimate yourself as often as anyone else does.”

Eden turned to face her, looking up. Somehow, when those dark eyes regarded Ailiang, the difference in their height seemed much less pronounced. “Maybe. But this is the sort of conversation I should be having with my therapist, not with my helmswoman while she is, technically, on duty.” Then, more quietly, “Thank you, though.”

Ailiang smiled. “I’ll see you on the bridge, then, captain.”

“That you will, Ensign Li Ling.” Enigma turned back to the viewport. “Dismissed.”

Kirlas Trem stripped off her uniform’s jacket and tossed it onto the sofa in the living area of her suite, leaving herself in her red undershirt and black slacks. Her earring sparkled in her right ear, the clasp holding the chains to the rim of her ear a silver in contrast to the gold of the stud and chains. A single moonstone rested at the center of the stud.

Each part of the earring was a gift from someone who had changed her life in some way.

Rather than grumble about her assignment – Cardassians! – she made her way to her prayer mat. She knelt there, drew a breath. Centered herself. She was never certain if the Prophets heard her prayers, but she had long since settled on the conclusion that it did not matter. She knew her faith, found comfort in prayer that humans might find in contemplation or Klingons in song and ceremony, and that was enough.

She did not remember the Occupation. She had been too young when the Cardassians left her homeworld. But her parents remembered, her aunts and uncles, her childhood vedek, her family’s friends. She had grown up with those memories all around her, and with the scars the Cardassians had left in Bajoran souls and on Bajoran land. Heard her older brothers waking from nightmares of the Cardassians years after they were gone.

She did remember the war, sitting awake with her parents and holding her baby brother in her lap and waiting to hear news of the battles Starfleet and the Emissary fought to keep her safe. Those nights had reinforced to her how frightening the Cardassians were.

They had also sparked in her the determination to join Starfleet.

The door to her quarters hissed open, and she heard quiet footsteps behind her. She performed the last rituals of her prayer and rose, folding her prayer mat and turning.

Kirlas Sivar – just Sivar, to most he knew, though he had formally taken her family name at their marriage – was a tall man, his eyes sharp, his voice deep. He was solid, unmoved by the emotions of the moment but passionate when he judged something or someone worthy of his passion.

Three things met that high threshold, he told her the night she proposed. The first he had found as a child, when he discovered the epic poetry of the Second Surinian Age of Vulcan. The second he had found as a teenager, looking through textbooks as he sought a field of study and found himself fascinated with geophysics.

The third, he had met at a cafè in San Francisco, just in sight of the Golden Gate, when he was in town to attend his mentor’s guest lecture at Starfleet Academy. She’d smiled at the memory of that chance meeting, the brief conversation over coffee that had turned into a walk in Golden Gate park which had, in turn, led to her only late arrival to a class in her four years at the Academy.

“Trem,” her husband said with a slight inclination of his head.

“Sivar.” Trem smiled, then stepped forward. Sivar’s arms were around her in a moment, and she exhaled, letting the tension that had built since the briefing finally fade completely. “Cardassians.”

He needed to hear no more. Rather than speak, he guided her to the sofa under the wide viewport, sat her down, and kissed her forehead before making his way to the replicator. A moment later, he returned with a tray. A gingerbread latte and a jumja stick for her, a steaming mug of tea for himself. He placed the tray on the table before the sofa and drew her once again into his arms.

She spoke quietly, told him about the briefing, the mission. Her swirling emotions, her understanding that whatever hurt and fear she had around the Cardassians did not mean that those on Alim bore responsibility. He listened, not speaking, fingers brushing her arm or the back of her neck to encourage her to continue. When she finished, he gave her another moment to see if any more words were coming, then he spoke.

“Your worry about the actions of the Cardassians is warranted,” he said quietly. “Your anger and pain at what they did to the people you love and the world of your birth doubly so. But your doubt in yourself is not. You are competent, intelligent, and disciplined. More importantly for this mission, you have a talent for seeing the needs of others and finding ways to meet them, regardless of your own feelings. You will perform brilliantly on this mission.” He paused a moment, placed her coffee mug i to her hands. “And you will return here, and if you need to laugh or to cry, I will join you in doing so.”

Trem shook her head with a quiet laugh, cuddling closer to her husband. “I would not have believed, before I met you, how much of a comfort it would be to have someone cry with me.”

He dipped down and kissed her, then she took a sip of her coffee. What the replicator produced was nowhere near as good as what she’d had at that little cafe in San Francisco, but the hint of gingerbread and the smell of him still brought back the memory of that day. The most important day of her life.

She closed her eyes, basking in the peace of her marriage.

It took a special kind of balance for a Saurian to sit on a barstool, but Inaree had a great deal of practice at that. Lieutenant Junior Grade Inaree held a glass of Saurian brandy in one hand, a PADD in the other, but mostly she listened to the conversation happening around her. Junior officers spoke quietly at their tables, discussing their duties or family back home or their friends or loves, while S’Rell, the Caitian bartender, moved through the room, making brief conversation as she delivered drinks. At a table with a good view through the main viewport, two crewmen and two officers burst out in cheers as one of them, a petty officer from Administration, drew a full consortium and won their round of tongo.

No one approached Inaree. This was nothing new to her – since her childhood on a mixed Federation colony, she had generally spent more time alone or with mentors than with her peers. That reputation, of being a highly competent loner, rose again at the Academy, and followed her from there to each of her few postings since.

She looked up to find someone – an Andorian ensign in command red – watching her. When the woman noticed that Inaree had seen her, her cheeks darkened to purple and she looked back down at her drink.

Inaree sighed, the sound rising in a series of notes. She intimidated people. She did not intend to, but she did, and that had left her with few friends.

She finished her brandy. It was disappointing – synthetic, so she could shrug off the effects if called to duty, and tasting only vaguely of the real thing. Still, best not to overindulge. She waved S’Rell over.

“What can I get for you?” The Caitian’s voice was overly cheerful, her gaze too intent to be genuine.

“Spiced tea,” Inaree replied, passing the empty glass to the bartender. “Hot.”

“Coming up.” S’Rell crossed to the replicator, disintegrating the glass before replicating the tea. The mission patch of the Al-Batani, the Fourth Fleet delta-and-lightning with a telescope silhouetted against it, was visible on the teacup. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

“No, thank you.”

After another moment looking at Inaree – was that pity or doubt? – S’Rell moved on to the next officer, the next order.

“Dropping warp… now.” Ensign Li Ling was an efficient pilot, and Al-Batani came out of warp just above the ecliptic of the Alim system, only a few minutes at impulse from their destination.

“Enter a parking orbit when we arrive.” Inaree squeezed the ends of the armrests of the command chair. Despite her rank, she hadn’t spent much time in starship center chairs. Still, this was routine duty – an easy thing. “Call Captain Enigma and Commander Kirlas to the bridge.”

“Aye.” Li Ling tapped her console. “Captain and First Officer to the bridge.”

By the time the two entered, together, from the aft turbolift, Al-Batani was in orbit in transporter range. Inaree vacated the center chair, and Enigma took it, Kirlas remaining standing at her side. Enigma’s slight height, small even among human women, always startled Kirlas when the two passed near each other – the captain’s presence made her seem taller.

“Report,” Enigma said. Her command voice was terse, firm. After some research into her background, Inaree had identified the accent as Acadian, from swamplands in the lower valleys of some of Earth’s many rivers, though other examples of that accent tended to be more relaxed, slower, than Enigma’s staccato delivery.

“We are in orbit now.” It was Fnorch who spoke, none of his frequent argumentativeness in his tone. The man could be exhausting, but on the bridge he was a consummate professional. He stood at the science console behind Enigma’s left shoulder. “Already receiving greeting messages from both colonies. A Starfleet runabout, the Puyallup, is in orbit in passive mode.”

“That would be our other crew members,” Enigma said. “Transmit standard greetings. Have the colonies managed to agree on a meeting place?”

“Yes.” Fnorch tilted his head. “A villa owned by one of the Cardassian colonists… Lamek. We have transport coordinates.”

Enigma nodded. “They’ll want senior officers there for the initial greeting, at least. Inaree, Kirlas, Li Ling, with me. Fnorch, the bridge is yours. Have Puyallup moved to the aft shuttlebay and fit for scientific duty.”

The named officers moved to the turbolift, though as they went Inaree looked curiously at Li Ling. Why had the captain chosen the helmswoman to join them on the mission?

“What do you think we’ll find?” That was Kirlas, and she spoke to Li Ling. “I’ve never been to a Cardassian’s home.”

“If he follows the style of other Cardassian businessmen?” Li Ling spoke quietly. “Ostentation. While there’s a movement on Cardassia to resurrect old native art styles, their businesspeople tend to show off their wealth with alien works from the far reaches of space. Given the size of his villa, I won’t be surprised it he greets us wearing Tholian silk, and tries to make a gift of some to the captain as well.”

Ah. Inaree didn’t know much about Li Ling’s homeworld, but it was a mercantile power – a Federation member that maintained a currency even after joining – and near the Cardassian border. That would explain why she was along.

“Try not to judge,” Enigma said. “Even if invited, we are interlopers, and it isn’t our job to determine the merit of the people we’re visiting. Only to help them sort their problems.”

The lift door opened, and the party stepped onto the transporter pad. Enigma spoke.

“Energize.”

Eden Enigma took the center chair, setting her coffee on the small table beside it. She took a moment to watch the second shift crew go about their work, quiet apart from the constant drone of Fnorch’s grumbling. Less than a month into her time serving with the man, and that had already become part of the background noise of her life, a small irritation rather than a painful problem.

She nodded to the human woman at the helm – Li Ling had gone off shift an hour earlier – before taking her PADD from the table beside her mug and starting to read. “A starship runs on paperwork as much as antimatter,” a mentor of hers had told her once, and she had definitely found that to be true. She thumbprinted a set of duty rosters, assembled from the work of her department heads by Kirlas, before moving on to operational reports.

She needed a yeoman. While being around people was often difficult for her – the din of sounds and looks and emotions could quickly become overwhelming – she did her best thinking in dialog. She’d learned that while serving on the Sovereign during her cadet cruise and later as the captain’s yeoman, and found a very effective sounding board in Li Ling.

It likely helped that they were in many ways sisters, that she had known Li Ling since the younger woman was a child. There were few with whom Eden was as comfortable.

She frowned at a report from the shuttlebay. The vehicle replicator was suffering another critical error, returning even standardized plans as invalid due to insufficient antimatter containment. She forwarded it to the engineering department.

It would be nice to have a chief engineer aboard, too.

“Captain,” the Betazoid at Ops – Serina – said. Thankfully, she didn’t try to communicate telepathically; little was as grating to Eden as unexpected telepathic contact. “Call incoming, from Earth. Personal, to you.”

Eden nodded, rising to her feet. “I’ll take it in my ready room. Serina, you have the conn.” Of those on the bridge, only Serina and Fnorch were center chair qualified, and her science chief hated to be away from his sensors while on duty. Besides, Serina had ambitions of command, and if she was to achieve them she would have to get center chair time.

Eden’s ready room was small but comfortable, with her desk and two chairs tucked against one wall and a long sofa under the viewport. Rather than the standard aquarium, Eden had opted for a terrarium, and two small tortoises browsed on large leaves of lettuce within. Both looked up as Eden walked to the desk, past her shelves of memories and trophies – a case with her decorations, a Rish eggshell fragment, a disruptor pistol taken from Thot Ren during the Valoris conflict. In a separate case from her Starfleet decorations were those given to her by Federation member worlds, with her Bajoran Shi’kar Cross and Lagashi Parliamentary Medal of Honor occupying pride of place. Under that case was a d’k tahg, a gift from the Emperor; next to it was the crest of House Starisha, her mother’s family.

She sat at her broad black desk, flipping up the small screen built into it, and activated the communications system to bring up the waiting call. The man on the other end of the call was much older than her, his once-blonde hair long since gone silver, his blue eyes bright and penetrating. He wore a civilian outfit in bright colors under a white chef’s apron.

Once, Jaques Enigma had been a Starfleet admiral, tasked with securing the Federation’s most secret technological development projects. That was long ago, before Eden’s birth and during her childhood. Before the death of his wife and her mother. Now, he cooked, and the most people he ever commanded were his apprentices and wait staff at the Napoleon House in New Orleans.

“Father,” she said, smiling. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I do try to be pleasant when I’m surprising,” Jaques said. “I was looking at the stars, and thought of you.”

She folded her hands on the desk. “You’re lonely.” Her father had left the stars behind, and only looked at them when he was missing her or her mother.

“I am.” He looked at her face. “Unless I’m projecting, so are you.”

Eden sighed. “I’m a starship commander, father. Loneliness is part of the job. You, on the other hand…”

“I am fine,” Jaques said, cutting her off. “I have the restaurant. My neighbors check on me. Old friends from my time in service visit. Pa’ren sent me a lovely letter and some tea last week. You are making a mistake nearly every command officer makes at some point.”

“What’s that?” Eden raised an eyebrow.

“You’re idealizing Jean-Luc’s time on the Enterprise-D,” Jaques said. “The solitary captain, alone in her ready room, always above the crew, remote and aloof. We all try it, though how long depends on who we are, and those who last are the ones who learn to be the captain when the captain is called for, but to also have friends. On a starship, with your crewmates the only people you see regularly… you need to make connections where you can.”

Eden drew in a breath to argue, to push back against his words. Of course the captain had to remain distant, hold to professional detachment. But… her father had commanded starships and border outposts. He had been marked a great captain, before her mother’s death changed him. She touched the edge of the screen with light fingers. “How do I do that?”

“We all do it differently,” Jaques said. “Surval taught, connecting with his friends through a shared desire to improve. I cooked dinners and played board games with my staff… and listened to your mother when she told me what people needed. Bill worked out with his people. I understand Jean-Luc took up poker eventually, but you shouldn’t wait as long as he did. But, Eden… the important thing is to find your way. You can’t get by on just Ailiang for company.”

“I already realized that,” Eden said with a quiet laugh. “She needs to make her own friends among the crew, and being the only one I’m close with…”

“Would not help her in that at all.” Jaques smiled. “Very true. Now… do you have a bit of time to catch up on the local gossip?”

Eden grinned. “As long as it doesn’t involve Maurice. Your Maurice stories would take my entire duty shift, and I do need to be back on the bridge eventually.”

“I’ll stick to the lower Quarter, then.”

Ensign Caroline Gale Walton stood, surrounded by people of far more moment than herself. Immediately next to her were two of her senior officers – the bearded, brilliant Lieutenant Abraham Gates in his gold engineering uniform, the capable and confident Doctor Lira in medical blue that matched her skin.

Caroline herself… was a clerk. A talented one, and one rated for scientific work aboard starships, but Captain Enigma had brought her on as a yeoman rather than a science officer. It was red that lined her collar rather than the blue she’d worn at the Academy.

She wasn’t sure whether to resent that.

Ahead of the her and the other officers were three civilians. At the center was Lamek, owner of the lavish home at which they were guests. At Lamek’s right hand stood the gray-haired Cardassian diplomat Berta. Berta was a politician by trade, but her rank and skill made her the Cardassian colony’s choice for a representative. At Lamek’s left was the Kolamite leader Drek’dak. He was more of a mystery to Caroline, though apparently he was the seniormost member of the Kolamite colony’s government. He had pale skin, a lovely nose, and prehensile ears that drooped to the sides of his head.

“All the vastness of space,” Drek’dak said, annoyance plain in his voice. “And we can’t find a mediator who arrives on time.”

“Which is odd,” Lamek said. “I have heard of Captain Enigma. Her punctuality is said to be nearly Cardassian.”

“Lay off,” Berta snapped. “There was no appointed time, and you both know it. Starfleet is in orbit; they’ll be beaming down any…”

Then the air in front of them shimmered in sparks of blue and white, and four figures in Starfleet uniform appeared. Betazoid, human, Bajoran, Saurian.

There was something odd about the human’s eyes.

Drek’dak stepped forward, toward the tall Bajoran commander, extending his hands in offer of a greeting, and Caroline winced. But the Betazoid intercepted him.

“Ambassadors.” She nodded to Lamek. “Mr. Lamek. You honor us with your trust. I am Captain Eden Seraphina Enigma of the Federation starship Al-Batani.”

Drek-Dak’s ears twitched, swiveled, as he turned his full attention to Captain Enigma. “Ah. Yes.” Was he embarrassed? “Captain Enigma. I am Drek’Dak, Mayor of Kolm.”

The rest of the introductions went more smoothly, and soon Caroline was following the others toward the house. The human ensign fell back to walk alongside her.

“Hey,” she said softly, so as not to be heard among the discussion between the senior staff and the dignitaries. “Caroline Walton, yes? I’m Li Ling Ailiang an Hark an Jenner. Helmswoman.” She offered a small smile. “And, more importantly to you, Captain Enigma’s previous yeoman.”

Her eyes. There was a glow behind the irises, specks of light in the pupils. Cybernetics? It had to be. “I’m Walton, yes.” Captain Enigma’s old yeoman? Had Li Ling come to gloat?

Once they were inside, Li Ling pulled her to a side room. “You’re upset. Why?”

Caroline sat on one of the big, uncomfortable seats that matched nothing else in the small room. “Full honesty? None of it being repeated to anyone else?”

Li Ling nodded. “This conversation is classified. Our eyes only.”

Caroline laughed. How dare this woman be funny? “I joined Starfleet to do science. I worked my way through the Academy, went through a special kind of hell on my cadet cruise…” Caroline closed her eyes, pushing away the memory of that day. Irtok. Teeth and screams… “All on the hope of a life doing science. Then my first posting out of the Academy, and my assignment is as a secretary.”

Li Ling frowned. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Caroline blinked. “Know what?”

“Captain Enigma didn’t pick you as a secretary,” Li Ling said. “You’ll be doing that work, but that isn’t your job. For Captain Enigma… she comes from a very specific command tradition. Her yeoman’s job is to be a sounding board, a second mind. She picked you for the job that made her the captain she is, in hopes that it can do the same for you.”

Caroline fell silent a moment, looking down at her own hands, then Li Ling’s. “I didn’t know. When I got my assignment… I thought I’d failed. That actions I took during my cadet cruise were coming back to haunt me.” Again, she added silently.

“I looked at your qualifications, and thought they were excellent,” Li Ling said. “I made the short list of candidates to replace me for Captain Enigma, and your leadership in lab work and high ratings from your peers on your cadet cruise got you onto that list. I don’t know what actions you think might have cost you…”

“They wouldn’t be in my public record,” Caroline said quietly.

“You weren’t first on my list,” Li Ling said. “I’m not going to say who was. But Captain Enigma picked you over them, and over everyone else on the list. I don’t know why, but you should ask her.” Li Ling smiled. “Now… I’m going to strike the rest of this conversation from the record. Captain Enigma trusts you. Show how you deserve it.”

“All right. I will.” Caroline returned the smile nervously. “Thank you, Li Ling.”

Eden smoothed her hair as she sat opposite her host. The others had dispersed through the house, with Inaree and Gates meeting Drek’dak and Kirlas and Lira with Berta. Ailiang was exploring the grounds. Walton, keeping the nerves that kept invading Eden’s empathic senses off her face, waited until Eden was in her seat before sitting beside her.

Lamek smiled. He was looking at her and not at all keeping his interest off his face. That interest felt… oily. Unpleasant and unclean. “Captain Enigma. It is a pleasure to have you and your officers in my home. Welcome.”

Eden buried a sigh. This man was an inveterate liar – it filled every aspect of his emotions. “The pleasure is ours, Mr. Lamek. Your home is lovely.” She could at least say the second sentence honestly – it was a lovely house, the art reminiscent of the Cardassian golden age works she had seen on visits to Cardassian space.

“Thank you, Captain. It has taken some work to make it so, this far from our homeworld.” He rested his chin on his folded hands, eyes wandering away from Eden’s face. She wished she could convince herself that it was to avoid meeting her gaze. “And while we speak of home… may I ask about yours?”

Gone. Gone and forgotten. “I don’t have a homeworld, Mr. Lamek. I was born in space.”

“Interesting. Perhaps that is why you seem so… unworldly. Tell me… may I call you Eden?”

Eden sighed. “I am only comfortable with that from people I have known for a very long time, Mr. Lamek. I prefer ‘Captain’ or ‘Captain Enigma.’”

Lamek sighed, his neck ridges flaring. “Very well… Captain Enigma.” He emphasized her title and name as he said them, his voice throaty. Eden idly contemplated the phaser pistol at her hip – it was far from her preferred weapon, but stun was stun…

“Moving on from that,” Eden said, folding her arms. “I was hoping for your insight into the current situation.”

Walton looked up as Lamek spoke. “A difficult state of affairs,” he said. “Both sides chose borders before the full oceanic survey was completed. The schools of fish are important to both colonies – to the Kolamites as a primary food resource, and to ourselves as a major export. But it turns out that they are migratory, and vanish from the Kolamite-controlled seas for half the year.”

“So the Kolamites want fishing rights within the fish’s feeding territory,” Eden said. “If they are used as an export, shouldn’t you be able to sell some to the Kolamites?”

“The trouble with that,” Lamek said, his voice full of sadness but his emotions barely contained satisfaction. “Is that the Kolamites have little of value to offer us in trade save for land. All they produce, we can replicate or make ourselves, and as newcomers to the stellar community they do not yet have access to the galactic currency markets. There is far more to be made selling offworld.”

And now I find myself missing Ailiang. Her sense of business is far better than mine. “And is the friendship of your neighbors not worth a bit of lost profit?”

“It would not be a bit,” Lamek said. “It would be an order of magnitude. And many of our fishers are here to earn latinum to send to family elsewhere. Surely you don’t expect us to deny them their livelihood?”

“Of course.” Eden rose to her feet. “That will be all for now, Mr. Lamek.” Before my patience with his lust or greed is exhausted. “Ensign, with me.” Before the Cardassian had a moment to speak, Eden walked outside alongside Walton. She moved a distance from the house before speaking. “What do you think?”

“Permission to speak freely?” Walton said.

“Granted. Whenever it is just us.” Eden looked to the blonde woman. “If you cannot speak freely, Ensign, I can’t rely on your advice or observations.”

“He’s a thoroughly vile man,” Walton said. “Who I’m fairly certain would sell his own people out in this if there was profit to be made. Or…” She trailed off, emanating hesitation.

“Or if he thought it would get me into his bed. So I suppose he wasn’t as subtle about that as I thought he was.” Eden often had trouble reading faces, though her empathy more than compensated with most. Still, it left her uncertain what others would see.

“It took me a few moments to be sure, but no, he wasn’t subtle.” Walton shook her head. “And are the Cardassians really going to value a little money over the lives of the Kolamites?”

“Never underestimate how much some people will value money,” Eden said. “So long as they don’t have to pay whatever cost is involved in them getting it. That’s the root of corruption.”

Walton nodded. “And he said the Cardassians are sending money to their families…”

“An old story,” Eden said. “A person goes to somewhere that there is money to be made, sacrificing their ability to be with their family in hopes of giving their family a better life. And given Cardassian moral philosophy, any sacrifice but treason can be worthwhile in the name of helping one’s family.”

“‘State, family, self.’ Though these Cardassians have abandoned the state.”

“Or see it as illegitimate, or as having abandoned them,” Eden said thoughtfully. “Good catch.”

“Captain… may I ask a more… personal question?” Walton looked at Eden, and the nerves flared in her emotions again, hard enough that it took effort for Eden not to fidgit.

“Of course,” Eden said.

“Why me?” Walton paused. “For your yeoman? Why did you choose me?”

“I think that requires more answer than I have time to give,” Eden said. “But I promise you I will answer once we are back on the ship. For now… I want you to look around. Don’t get into trouble, but see what you can learn.”

Inaree sat on one of the long benches in the Lamek estate’s garden. Bushes grew around her, with bright blossoms in green and blue, some reflecting near-ultraviolet light in scintillating patterns. Those ones must look so strangely dull to human or Cardassian eyes, and she briefly wondered why Lamek grew them.

“My people,” Drek’dak was saying, “Will survive this summer well enough. We have food stores for two years. But we are already seeing hoarding, and if the fish do not return…”

“Do you have a reason to think they won’t?” Inaree had no idea what humans found attractive in their men, and Gates’s odd choice to grow facial hair was baffling, but his eyes were a pleasant shade of blue and his voice a commanding baritone that was quite pleasant to listen to. And he was brilliant, having spent his early career at the Advanced Starship Design Bureau before putting in time on a Prometheus-class ship.

“None,” Drek’dak said, his left earlobe reaching up to scratch the side of his nose. External ears were odd. “But the Cardassians seem willing to watch us starve. I can’t bet the lives of my people on their not being willing to help that process along… especially with some of the things we’ve heard about their history.”

Good thing Kirlas isn’t here, Inaree thought. “Is there an alternative food source?”

“Not without risking the local ecosystem,” Drek’dak said, smiling. That was when Inaree saw his teeth – sharp and wicked, made for cutting and tearing. “We don’t process vegetable matter well… our ancestors were hypercarnivores, and while we are slightly more omnivorous than they were, we can’t live on vegetables. We need meat, and the land animals here… we’ve found few we can eat, those few aren’t common, and no progress has been made on domestication.”

“Hence the fish,” Inaree said.

“We could introduce our own livestock from the homeworld,” Drek’dak said. “But the cost would be immense, and we’d risk introducing invasive species. And we can’t be sure the ox-horse herds could eat the local grasses.”

“Best to avoid that if possible, then,” Gates said. “What about technological solutions? Replicators?”

“We don’t have them,” Drek’dak said. “And our food synthesizers are rudimentary and insufficient to the task. Could the Federation…?”

“If the Prime Directive allowed us to give you replicators, Captain Enigma would have done so already,” Gates said. “I don’t pretend to understand the nuances of how it interacts with warp-capable societies, but that’s required for captains to know.”

Drek’dak nodded. “I’d likely find your Prime Directive admirable if not for our situation,” he said. “And the Cardassians won’t sell them to us, because we have nothing they need but our land, and if we sacrifice land to them it is forever, and sets the precedent that they can force us to give more with their technology.”

“Hence the impasse.” Inaree considered. “Thank you, Mr. Drek’dak. I think we understand your position now.”

“We’ll report to the captain,” Gates added. “She should be able to find a solution.”

“Appreciated,” Drek’dak said quietly.

Trem swallowed as she settled into a seat. The room was… oppressive. The windows were small, the art images of stark architecture, and the shapes of the space were…

They were Cardassian. They had the look, though softened for living in, of the places she’d visited as a child as she learned about the Occupation.

Berta regarded her for a moment. The Cardassian governor’s eyes were expressive, almost kind, but it was difficult for Trem to meet them. She was afraid of what Berta might see in her expression – the emotions, too many to separate any out but the anger and sadness, that filled her.

She swallowed them down. If she didn’t get control of them soon, the captain would feel them from wherever she was.

“Our work needs to be toward an equitable solution,” Lira was saying. The Andorian tucked some of her white hair behind a long antenna, looking at a PADD. She looked as relaxed as Trem had ever seen an on-duty officer, her long lab coat open around her crossed legs as she half-reclined in her seat. Her eyes, though, were alert. She made Trem think of old Resistance fighters, though her record had no mention of combat duty – loose but ready.

“That’s the trouble,” Berta said with a sigh. “To the Kolamites, survival is the highest virtue. To us… it’s our families, and too many of my people rely on their work here to support those families. And that means that whatever solution we reach, someone loses something they can’t tolerate losing.”

“So your people would watch the Kolamites starve to keep their work safe?” Trem felt how short her voice was, tasted the anger in it, no matter how hard she bit it down. She was Starfleet, this was diplomacy, there was no excuse…

“Many would,” Berta said. “I’m not going to deny that. Not all, but too many.” She sighed. “I don’t want to see that happen. I also don’t want my successor to start attacking Kolamite fishing boats days after I leave my position. That’s why I agreed to Starfleet arbitration… hopes that you could find a solution that would keep the peace in the long term, and would protect both Kolamite lives and Cardassian families. That a Starfleet guarantee would hold that solution in place.”

She’s trying to save her own neck, and will let the Kolamites starve or Captain Enigma burn to do it. Trem suppressed that thought. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“None, I’m afraid.” Berta spread her arms. “Commander… my people value our independence. We wanted a clean break from Cardassia, from the infighting between Central Command and the Detapa Council, the lying and injustice. But it isn’t that simple… not when we have families who wouldn’t or couldn’t come with us. I chose to contact Starfleet because the other choices were to give up, to let the homeworld in, or to fight. And even this… we lose some of our freedom by bringing you here.”

Trem and Lira regarded each other a moment before the doctor spoke. “I think that I understand,” Lira said. “I’ll approach this from another angle. What would your people be willing to give, to keep peace?”

“Whatever was needed,” Berta said. “But we would need to get enough in return to satisfy our needs.”

And the needs of Cardassians… Trem forced herself not to finish the thought. “And therein lies the problem,” she said instead. “If the Kolamites have nothing to offer…”

Then war. Or a permanent peacekeeping force to prevent it.

Content Warning: Death of a child.

Eden couldn’t feel the Breen. Under any other circumstance, that was the hardest part of fighting them.

Under any other circumstance, she did not have the fear of three hundred civilians, nearly half of them children, pressing against her mind, trying to force its way in and steal her strength.

The Muse of Ravens was bound for the Sanctuary colony when it had fallen under attack by Breen raiders, and somehow managed to survive until help arrived. Sovereign was fighting the raiders outside the ship, but they’d already boarded. The Hazard Team was sent aboard to keep the colonists safe.

Most of the team was in the hold with them, but a few pairs were sent to sweep the ship. Eden and Petty Officer Tracey Browning were one of those pairs.

“Hazard One to Hazard Nine,” came a voice in Eden’s earpiece. “Report.”

“Nine,” Eden whispered just loudly enough for the earpiece to pick it up. “We’re on deck three, aft section. About to move to deck 2. Nothing…” A sound from a side corridor. “Hold, One.” She lifted a hand, then gestured. Browning nodded.

Two weeks of intense training and one operation together, and Eden and Browning were already a well-oiled machine. The part of Eden’s mind not occupied with holding back the terror of the colonists or keeping aware of where a Breen might strike from idly wondered how people functioned without Starfleet discipline.

She reached the corner, and Browning carefully drew her tricorder. It was set to silent, scanning without a sound, and Browning nodded before holding up three fingers. In tight spaces, Eden’s marksmanship meant less than it did when she had a proper perch and space to work, but Browning was as good a spotter with a tricorder as with her eyes.

Eden hazarded a glance down the hall without breaking cover. She could see two of the Breen at a door. There was someone behind that door… someone terrified. Someone…

The emotions erupted with pain before vanishing, and Eden went cold. The door opened, and the third Breen stepped out. With Sovereign fighting their ships, they had moved on from kidnapping. Now, they killed.

All Breen saw humanoids as animals to be tamed, but Thanget’s held to the idea that those who could not be tamed – because of temperment or circumstance – should be put down.

All three targets visible, Eden raised her rifle and stepped into the corridor. Aim. Squeeze. One Breen fell, a hole blasted through his armor, rancid methane erupting from that hole. The others turned, raising their weapons. Aim. Squeeze. Eden’s finger tightened on the trigger of her rifle, and the second Breen fell. The third fired, and she ducked around the corner, on the opposite side from Browning. The surviving Breen ducked into the room where his fallen companion had just done murder.

Browning looked to Eden for orders, and Eden considered a moment. If the only problem was this one Breen, they could wait him out, force him to come to them… but he was almost certainly calling for backup, which meant the rest of the Breen would know her position. They can’t know, can’t find us, we’ll die, we’ll all… Eden pushed the fear away. It was not her own.

She held too much fury to have room for fear.

She held her hand up. Hold. Then touched her chest where her commbadge would be if she wasn’t on a Hazard operation. Contact Hazard One. Then she moved forward, to the door the Breen had vanished behind.

She touched the panel beside it, and it opened. A blast of green shot through it immediately, and Eden held just a moment. Then she drew a disc from her belt, slid it into the room. A muffled explosion accompanied a flash of light – one that would be far brighter in the Breen visible spectrum than in her own – and she stepped through.

The Breen visor took less than a second to adjust to bursts of intense infrared light and reset to allow its wearer to see clearly again. It was more than enough time. Eden fired, and the Breen stumbled back a step before a soft pop sound indicated the failure of the refrigeration system in his armor and the inrush of room temperature air. His frozen methane bones were sublimating.

Eden ignored the fallen Breen. “Hazard Nine to Hazard One. Sweep complete. Expect Breen converging on my location. Going to move to a better spot.”

“Three and Four are on their way,” Hazard One replied. “Meet them at junction C.”

Eden nodded, turned to go. As she turned, she saw the person the Breen killed before she got there. Had killed because she was too late.

Terror on a face made for joy. In her arms, the child clung to a stuffed toy in grey and red. Along the nacelle of the soft toy, a small bit of text in the Latin alphabet caught Eden’s eye.

NCC-1701.

This girl had waited for Starfleet to save her.

2401

Eden shook herself out of her memories, taking a few deep breaths. It was time to put the past aside and prepare for the future. “Ensign Walton to my ready room.”

The back lawn of the Lamek manor was broad, dotted with trees, a small pond off to one side, the tall wall overlooking the whole of it in stark relief. Li Ling Ailiang an Hark an Jenner made her way across it, looking for somewhere quiet to think. In the time since they arrived, Lamek’s servants had gone from helpful to intrusive, leading her toward the inevitable conclusion that the man was hiding something.

Of course, he was a wealthy merchant. That alone meant he was hiding something. Men with nothing to hide didn’t become wealthy.

A flash of movement caught her eyes – a dress – and Ailiang turned to follow. Her implants adjusted, scanning in infrared, and she saw two figures hiding behind a bush. She moved to the bush, peeked behind it.

To her eyes, names appeared next to each of the teenagers. The girl was Cardassian, her eyes blue and her hair bleached blonde. Her name was Zaya Lamek, and she was Lamek’s daughter. The boy, about six months younger, was a Kolamite, his teeth the needlelike second set his people grew before their more robust final teeth came in during their late 20s, and his nose would have identified him as Drek’dak’s son even without the identifier Ailiang’s implants provided. His name was Klim.

Zaya moved quickly, placing herself between Ailiang and Klim, a challenging look in her eyes as she regarded Ailiang. “I don’t care what my father told you. You aren’t going to hurt him.”

Ailiang looked down at the girl. Brave, to stand up to an adult and a Starfleet officer. Brave, and either foolish or desperate. “I’m not here to hurt either of you, and your father hasn’t said anything about him.” She offered a hand. “I’m Ensign Li Ling. We’re here to help, Zaya.”

Zaya regarded Ailiang with suspicion. “I’ve heard that before. Central Command used to send people all the time to ask how they could help.“

“I’m not from Central Command,” Ailiang said.

“Is Starfleet better?” The boy – Klim – asked. “Dad said they are, but… so far, everyone who’s come down from the sky but Zaya has wanted to push us around and take what our ancestors left us.”

“My people worried about that, too,” Ailiang said, sitting on the ground. A moment later, the others joined her there. “When Starfleet came, with its people from Earth… our memories of Earth were of war and a tyranny we fled from, that we’d spent decades asleep before falling through a hole in space to find our home. But they’d grown, just like we had, away from that. Starfleet wants to make sure everyone on this planet can live in peace and safety and freedom. My people wouldn’t have joined the Federation without that promise. I wouldn’t have joined Starfleet without it, and I’ve seen firsthand how true it is. And Captain Enigma is the best Starfleet has to offer… she lives what we believe.”

The two teenagers looked at each other, and Ailiang smiled slightly. What was in their eyes was unmistakable – the fondness and nervous attraction common in first serious crushes. Finally, Zaya replied. “You’re from Lagash, right? Your eyes…”

Ailiang nodded. “Jade Sky, on Lagash. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. The name of the person from Earth who said that is lost to us – we lost it in our escape from Earth, and the people of Earth lost it some time in the century between our escape and the founding of the Federation. But that’s the idea we built our society around. People should be able to live the lives they want. Starfleet has the Prime Directive, which is a similar idea. We want to make sure you can live free.”

Klim looked at Zaya. “Za, we need to trust someone.”

Zaya tensed, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll trust you, Ensign Li Ling. Don’t make me regret it.” She closed her eyes. “My father is up to something. I’m not sure what, but whatever it is, it’ll hurt Klim’s people and probably Ambassador Berta too. He’s been making a lot of calls out of the house, into space. They’re encrypted, and I don’t know who he’s calling.”

Ailiang smiled. This is what Eden had me looking for. “Tell me what you can. I’ll make sure we look into it.”

Just cross the bridge and walk in. Ensign Caroline Walton forced herself to step out of the turbolift, crossing the bridge, hands carefully folded behind her back. When she reached the door to Captain Enigma’s ready room, it hissed open, and she stepped inside.

The captain was sitting behind her desk, holding a disruptor pistol in her hand and gazing at it. Ominous. She looked up the moment Caroline noticed the pistol.

“Ah,” Captain Enigma said, quickly setting the weapon aside. “I was just… remembering. Some rather unpleasant days. Don’t worry; I’m not going to shoot you.”

Empath, Caroline reminded herself. That would make this even more harrowing. “I wouldn’t ever think you would, Captain.”

“I appreciate your faith,” Enigma said dryly as she rose and moved to the sofa, taking a mug of foul-smelling Klingon coffee from her desk as she went. “Get a drink if you would like and join me? You’ll be spending a lot of time in here; you’ll need to become comfortable being here.”

Caroline nodded and made her way to the replicator. “Milkshake. Strawberry. Double whipped cream.” The dessert appeared in an extravagant glass, and Caroline took it before joining Enigma at the sofa, sitting at the end of it. “You wanted to see me, Captain?”

Enigma sighed. “I wanted to answer your question. But I expect that will come with its own unpleasant memories, for you.”

Caroline looked down into her milkshake, catching some of the whipped cream on her spoon and tasting it. The replicator does good whipped cream. “Irtok.”

Enigma nodded. “Tell me.”

Caroline closed her eyes, setting the shake on the small table beside the sofa. “It was my cadet cruise. We arrived at a planet… Captain, do you have clearance for this?”

“T-X-03 clearance,” Enigma said. “Which I believe exceeds yours.”

Caroline laughed. “By only a little.” Somehow, she wasn’t surprised the captain had temporal clearance. “Irtok IV, an uninhabited planet. We’d received a garbled Starfleet distress signal. Captain Korchev sent a team down… I was assigned to get experience with ground operations, and because my specialty in particle physics could be useful.”

“There was a crashed ship,” Enigma said. “Radiating exotic radiation, including chroniton particles.”

Caroline sighed. “The ship was Starfleet, but nothing we’d seen before. I pulled partial logs, and those explained why. It was from the twenty-seventh century, an early test of a temporal drive. Something had failed, and the ship fell to our time, its engines disabled. Most of the crew was killed in the jump through time; what remained was killed in the crash. But the Premonition’s arrival had weakened subspace, and another ship appeared.” She opened her eyes, looked at Captain Enigma’s face. “They were Starfleet, too… from another universe. And they were…” She searched for the word.

“Evil,” Enigma said softly. “They were from a place we call the Mirror Universe. Crossing between the universes is rare, but has happened enough times that we do study them.”

Caroline drew a breath. “They beamed to the Premonition. They wanted its technology. We outnumbered them, but they were ruthless, skilled soldiers, and they had someone with them. She was a Rish, Captain… have you ever seen a Rish?”

Enigma nodded. “Served with one on Sovereign. She was small… only about three meters long. Took growth inhibitors to avoid growing too big for the corridors. And she was a scientist.”

“Mercy wasn’t a scientist,” Caroline whispered. Teeth, claws, feathers… eyes as alien as they were intelligent. A beast from our earliest mammalian ancestors’ nightmares. “She killed three of our officers within minutes of arriving. They’d blocked our comms, so we couldn’t call the ship for backup or transport. I escaped through the Jeffries tubes, but Mercy… the Rish; the others with her called her that – simply ripped deck plating away to pursue me. Somehow, I managed to get to the engine room.” Mercy’s side hitting the huge, reinforced doors. The doors bending, starting to buckle, under her weight and strength, even before her crewmates arrived.

Enigma’s hand rested against hers, and Caroline became aware that she was seeing the captain through a sheen of tears. She reached up to wipe them away, but Enigma stopped her. “It was frightening,” Enigma said. “It’s okay to remember that fear.”

“I set the temporal core to overload,” Caroline said. “Just put as much antimatter into it as I could. Then I used the emergency transporter to get out, to get to the other side of the planet. I still felt the ship blow, even from there.” She forced her hand to relax, to stop squeezing the captain’s. “All I could think… I had to keep them from getting the technology. That was all I could find to do. Captain Korchev was angry… he said I’d sacrificed the lives of my crewmates, destroyed something Starfleet could have benefitted from… he had me transferred off, with a negative recommendation. Wanted to do more. Wanted to court martial me.” Caroline shook her head. “They were all dead already, Captain. The dampening field kept us from calling the ship, but we still had short-range comms. I heard most of them die. The ones I didn’t… they weren’t responding. They were dead.”

Enigma nodded, releasing Caroline’s hand, then spoke quietly. “You did the right thing, Ensign. That’s why I wanted you. You were put in the most difficult position a young officer could find, a no-win situation more trying than any test the Academy has ever devised, and you made the choice that fit Starfleet’s rules and values, the one that kept incredibly powerful technology out of the hands of one of our most dangerous potential adversaries. Korchev was wrong, Ensign. You did the right thing, and the woman who will do that is a woman who should command one of our great ships. I want a part in getting you there.” She smiled a little. “You’re going to make an appointment with the ship’s counselor once we finish at Alim. You’re going to serve as my yeoman, help me think through the troubles Al-Batani will face. And one day, you’ll command a starship of your own, and people will know exactly the officer you are.”

Then the captain grunted as Caroline fell against her, tears falling freely. “Thank you, Captain. Thank you.”

Ailiang kept the power output on her tricorder to a minimum, scanning the walls as she moved through the basement. There was an odd amount of power flowing through those walls – far more than was necessary to provide power and computing to a house the size of Lamek’s, but not enough to operate a shield, weapons, or advanced sensors. It was also only in the basement that she found the extra power, and it was sufficiently shielded from the house above that Ailiang’s tricorder and implants could find no trace of it.

“Ensign Li Ling?” Zaya’s voice came from behind her, and Ailiang spun, forcing herself not to jump. Wasn’t scanning for life forms.

“Zaya,” Ailiang said quietly. “What is it?”

Zaya stepped out of one of the side rooms, holding a data rod in her hand. “I… found something. One of my father’s access keys for the house network. I was thinking of using it myself, but… well, it seemed like you’d be able to do more with it.”

Ailiang blinked. “That would be very helpful. But once you give it to me… well, I will use it. But I can’t control what Captain Enigma does with what I learn, and I will report what I find to her.”

Zaya nodded. “My father is wrong. Whatever he’s doing… it’s wrong. I want it stopped. If that costs me something… I’ll pay it.”

Ailiang moved forward, took the rod. “Zaya… what happened?”

“He found out I’ve been talking to Klim,” Zaya said quietly. “He got angry. Yelled. Called him… terrible things. Said the Kolamites are going to try to take the planet from us..”

Ailiang touched her hand. “I’ll do what I can, Zaya. Is Klim safe? Are you?”

“My father wouldn’t hurt me,” Zaya said. “Even at his biggest rage, he only yelled. And I don’t think he’ll hurt Klim either, other than trying to destroy his home and force his people off the planet.”

Ailiang nodded, squeezing the girl’s hand. “You’re a good person, Zaya. The exact sort of person who will make this planet work long term. Thank you.”

“You can thank me by finding out what my father’s planning and stopping him,” Zaya said. “I need to get back. I don’t want him to know I was down here.”

“Be careful.” Ailiang released the girl’s hand, and Zaya rushed up the corridor, toward the stairs. Ailiang slipped the rod into her belt pouch and continued down the hallway, stopping at a room where she found a lot of power flowing in.

The computer core stood, shining in duranium and aluminum against the dark brick of the basement. Ailiang smiled, making her way over, scanning it. Data popped up around it to her vision, a cascade of words in Lagashi-dialect Mandarin, English, and Cardassian, with the Cardassian quickly being translated to Mandarin. Finding no traps, Ailiang inserted the rod. Her implants translated the text on the holographic screen as it appeared.

Communication system open. Connection established.

Ailiang blinked, then started to look through the logs. As she worked, she felt the blood drain from her face. This is worse than Zaya could have imagined…