T'Mir stood in front of the Captain's desk while he grimly looked out his viewport as the stars moved from right to left. Her arm was immobilized, held tightly to her chest by a cloth sling. She attempted to guess the mood of the Captain, it was not good. He had not yet acknowledged her in the approximate 3.2 minutes she had been standing there.

"Captain?" she said at last.

He turned around, and immediately she decided she had been in error to call this upon herself.

"Do you know what Starfleet is going to say to all of this." He spat at her, lurching over his desk. "What am I going to tell them? We didn't recover anything." He gesticulated wildly at his computer screen, they held the downloaded recordings from the Romulan computer. "All I've got is sensor logs, star charts, crew entries, and – look at this – even a menu. What am I supposed to do with this!"

T'Mir quirked an eyebrow. "If you will recall, Captain, it was your duty to retrieve the information on the station's computer. It was not part of my objective."

He stared at her incredulously.

"You know what we're going to do." he started again, a mad glint in his cold eyes. He sat down, turning his computer screen to face her. "There are star charts of their region of space. They have a series of small outposts with small crew compliments. We'll infiltrate one of them and download the database from there."

"Captain!"

"This, here!" he jabbed at the screen, "Station 23, it's the closest one, with a standing crew compliment of three."

"It's unethical."

"It's a small price to pay." he justified, "Besides, I trusted you last time, now you're going to trust me."

Opening Theme: x The Killers, Bling x

Station 23

"How is he doing, Doctor?" T'Pol asked once the Doctor had come from behind the curtains.

The Denobulan smiled. "He's on the mend. I'm keeping him sedate, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind a visitor."

She cautiously accepted his invitation through the curtain. Her gaze fell on Commander Tucker, wrapped tightly into a sterile bed.

She stood over him. "Oh, Trip." she murmured softly. With a ginger hand, she combed through his hair, once, before she heard the Sick Bay doors admit a new occupant. She heard through the curtain.

"Hello, Doctor."

"How are you feeling today, T'Mir?"

"Well – thank you for your concern."

The Denobulan chuckled, "It's my job." T'Pol heard him press a hypospray into her neck.

T'Mir seemed to sigh.

"And the arm?" the Doctor continued, taking out his tricorder.

"I am finding it difficult to perform some routine tasks, but that is to be expected. There is no unusual sensation of pain which I cannot suppress."

Phlox tut-tutted at his readings. "I'd like to give you something for it anyway, keep the stress off your control. You are human, after all."

"Will there be a reaction?"

"I expect not." he said, pressing another injection into her neck. "You should be aware that the other injections will slow your healing process."

"I am aware. Thank you."

T'Pol jumped back as T'Mir opened the curtain. A guilty look leapt across her face, but T'Mir pretended not to notice as she shut the curtain.

"I had expected to find you here." the younger began, "How is he doing?"

T'Pol cleared her throat subtly before answering. "I am told he is doing well, although the Doctor is keeping him sedate."

T'Mir nodded, checking the vital readings above him, still nodding to herself. "Good." She pulled over a small stool tucked in the side of the room, and settled upon it.

T'Pol watched her – it was the first time she had seen this young girl not confronting the Captain or another crewmember, or herself – it was unsettling, but pleasant at the same time.

"We have not had much opportunity to discuss the situation." T'Mir said, suddenly looking up.

T'Pol snapped to rigid attention, schooling her features. "I'm not certain what you are referring to."

T'Mir looked back down, unfazed. "It does not matter to me if you show your emotions here." she said, "But feigning naivete is unseemly."

T'Pol couldn't hide the dead-shock that came over her.

T'Mir sighed, openly and heavily. "I apologize."

"There is no need." T'Pol shook her head. She glanced around for a stool of her own, pulling one over to sit on.

"He was very courageous when we infiltrated the shipyard." T'Mir began, still looking down at Trip, "I'm certain he saved my life."

"As you saved his." T'Pol acknowledged, "If not for the first time."

"Do you remember the first thing you said to me?"

"You awoke on this bed, but we were attacked soon after. I asked you how you could be certain of your actions."

T'Mir smiled. "I meant aboard the mining station, when you and Sa'mekh came to save my life."

T'Pol blinked in response.

"You said..." T'Mir's eyes glistened through her smile, and she sniffed, "you said 'Hello... I am your mother." T'Mir shook her head, feigning confusion, "I was six months old... I barely understood language."

X X X

"Hoshi," Malcom stood in front of the comm station on the Bridge, speaking quietly, "I wonder if you could give me a hand with something?"

She looked up, and replied brightly, "With what, Sir?"

He glanced around nervously, "I'm attempting to realign some of the sensor grids, I could use your expertise."

"My expertise." She laughed, "I don't know what my expertise could do, but I'll certainly help if I can." She stood up and headed for the turbolift.

Malcolm slinked behind her, scanning the Bridge for any unusual behaviour as they exited.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed once the doors had shut behind them.

"What?"

"Co-vert Op-erations." he over-enunciated. "Co-vert. Quietly. You could have blown our cover."

"Malcolm." she laughed in exasperation, "That was hardly covert. Beside, what's so urgent it couldn't wait until after my shift."

"This." he thrust a PADD at her. "I received it in communication with Harris this morning."

She flipped through it quickly.

"Can you do it?"

"Fake a distress call?" she looked worried. "I can, but it's going to take some time before I can make it completely untraceable."

"Good." Malcolm nodded, "We've got one week until we reach the Captain's space station. We'll move shortly after."

She nodded. Malcolm pressed the door release, and she exited back out to the Bridge.

"Done so soon?" the Captain asked when she reappeared.

"I can work better from up here." she said quietly, flashing the PADD as way of proof.

"Good." he said, staring back out the main viewscreen in anticipation, "Carry on."