"So it is your contention that you never attempted to attack the Federation?"

Ek'halitra'lan T'Lia was wearing a face that had made her the most feared of Romulan admirals and a gray Vulcan Navy dress uniform. The heavy eye makeup gave her level gaze a chilling intensity, had Admiral Roskov owned the good sense to see it, and the jagged dark scar down her cheek and neck seemed to pulse darker as he continued to question in circles. She had disposed herself in the witness chair some three and a half hours before and had scarcely moved, the drape of her dove-gray robes and the casual lean of an elbow on the armrest denying the situation its importance. "Such was never my intention. You are well aware of that."

The crowd in the small conference center was silent, watching the questioning play out in the next room. Kirk kept his own silence even when it made him squirm. Spock, beside him, was as outwardly calm and immobile as the admiral herself. The roil of emotion barely suppressed was easy for Kirk to feel; he could even pick up Nyota's fury on Spock's other side.

To his left, Bones simmered in his seat and muttered "Bastard Roskov. He's the one that cut and ran when he thought he was gonna get shot at. Real brave when he's yelling at one woman."

He urged the doctor to his feet and herded him to the hallway where Bones' comments might not inspire a riot. "If that's what he thinks, he's yelling at the wrong one." Kirk felt his own grin. "You haven't got to talk to her much yet. Trust me."

"You've met all of those people. The only ones I've met are Spock's father and grandmother, and what's the deal with her looking so young?"

"She and Skon were young when they had Sarek. It's the equivalent of teenagers having a baby. If you think that's confusing, his great-grandfathers have been time traveling so much they're less than half their age on paper and younger than her. It's an interesting family."

Bones grimaced. "Why is it, when hobgoblins are involved, 'interesting' always means we're likely to get killed?"

"At this rate, Admiral Roskov might. HQ gave him until five to ask her all the questions he wants, then he has to stop and take it up again after Federation Day if he still wants to chase his own tail. In the meantime, we have that stuff we don't talk about to do."

"Yeah." Bones puffed out his cheeks in a silent whistle. "I gotta hand it to you, you can talk me into doing damn near anything, and this is a doozy. Admiral Nogura really did say yes?"

"He did. I wouldn't lie to you about something that important. We are duly TDYed to Admiral T'Lia for her project and we're riding out with her family as soon as she's done here."

They could hear the questioning staggering to a halt. "I am aware of no such thing! There were armed Romulan ships firing on Federation targets!"

"An inescapable fact of dealing with the Sundered. Some percentage of any Exile fleet is always disloyal. A large portion of the Fourth Fleet is thought so on that side of the Zone."

Roskov had asked the same question at least four times now. Kirk wasn't sure why he expected a different answer. "The situation was impossible and you did nothing!"

"I did what was required to retrieve all Vulcan prisoners and assemble all of my forces in a defensive position that could handle any conceivable attack. The aforementioned factor of disloyalty could not be calculated with sufficient certainty to permit a quicker and more decisive response."

"You had months to get here!"

"I was on the wrong side of the Empire and deceived by the Tal Shiar, as were the others who might have prevented the Narada's attack. The Vengeance attack was conceived and planned entirely on Earth, where I had no access to records that might have caused me to react more quickly."

Roskov had gone down that road four times already as well, with the same results. The future- derived cloaking on the Narada had not been identifiable by any current technology, Terran or Vulcan. The Vulcan Navy's attempt to prevent the giant anomaly from reaching Vulcan had ended in disaster, along with Starfleet's rescue attempt. Lia had not intended to take over Starfleet, unless of course they planned to exterminate the Remnant of Vulcan. Why yes, she would have taken out Fleet headquarters, or anything else necessary, had that been the case. Doing otherwise would have betrayed her oath of office. Had she not betrayed her Romulan oath by fulfilling the Federation one?

"As I have said, Admiral, the Romulan oath is quite broad. I am to defend the interest of the Romulan people. On that side of the Zone, one point two trillion deluded Vulkansu live under a hellish, illegally derived and immoral government in exile that encouraged its people to murder my planet. I meditated upon that oath and concluded it was my sworn duty to bring about their liberation and unity with the Confederation of Surak by any means necessary. I have done what I could in that regard."

"Time, Admiral Roskov," grumbled a disgusted Nogura, banging down a gavel. "These proceedings are suspended for the next ten days,subject to cancellation should Admiral Roskov suddenly develop common sense. Fleet Admiral-" it was impossible not to notice the slight emphasis he put on Fleet, to remind Roskov he was badly outranked-"you have been most gracious in answering our questions, and I know your people don't expect thanks, but I extend them."

"And I thank you for your impartiality." T'Lia swept to her feet, nodding politely in his direction and pointedly not toward Roskov.

The panel left the conference and shuffled into the hallway. Nogura patted Kirk's shoulder as he went by and winked. Roskov snorted as he passed. The usual rabble of lesser officers and aides drained, then the guest of dishonor glided forth to meet a tall, thick-shouldered Vulcan man in fatigues. He held out his hands in the traditional family greeting, and Admiral T'Lia went to him, leaning into him in a weary way. "Lhairre, are you sure I can't punch Roskov?"

The man ducked his forehead to tap against hers over their joined hands. "No, elev, you have to behave. Unfortunately, so do I."

"I have to pee and get rid of this makeup, then we're going to Pennsylvania unless I can figure out how to open the shuttle window and spit on Roskov on my way." T'Lia mussed Kirk's hair on her way by and nearly ran into Bones. "Oh. Hello, Dr. McCoy."

Bones stared after her as Spock fulminated his way to them. "Uh...she just...I didn't realize Vulcans could, um, express themselves that bluntly."

"For her, that was restrained," Kirk grinned.

"What on earth have I gotten myself into?"

"A mission about which you will no doubt express endless and extravagant regret, all the while performing near miracles in spite of your whining," Spock said. Uhura found it necessary to turn her back for a moment. "You were preparing to ask about Aunt Lia's appearance. It is at present unwise for her to appear in public with her own face unless she is out of uniform and not easily identifiable."

That didn't seem to help Bones' mood. "Oh. In other words, she's a target."

"All of us are," Spock said blandly.

That was mean, Kirk thought at him. But funny. And unfortunately true. He knew Spock would hear him.

With Bones in his usual hopeless mood when boarding any aircraft, they were waiting on the Vulcan Embassy roof when a middle-aged, pregnant Vulcan woman in Terran clothing bounded aboard and flung herself into the pilot's seat. "Next stop, Carbon Creek," she said, and took off eastbound.

"Uh..." the doctor looked around in consternation. "Where's the admiral?"

"Your tradecraft still works," Lhairre said.

"But the scar..."

"Great makeup," said their pilot, taking the shuttle down far too close to ground level so she could buzz Roskov, who was indeed walking along the jogging trail. "Eh. Missed him."

"Ack," Bones whimpered.