Three days later on Barrinor, the morning found Macen enjoying a cup of coffee and a scone. He was reading the latest articles from the Federation News Service when the door chime sounded. T'Kir ran out of the office, past Macen, and to the door.

"It's probably Hannah." T'Kir said by way of explanation.

She opened the door and found Amanda Drake waiting on the porch. The Admiral was out of uniform. She wore a brown cropped jacket with a light blue ruched front tank top and khaki pants. She also wore brown Mary Janes.

"Oh boy." T'Kir gulped.

One of Drake's eyebrows rose in a decidedly Vulcan manner, "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Sure, I guess." T'Kir stepped out of the way and Drake breezed past her. She saw Macen sitting in a wingback chair and made a beeline for him.

"We need to talk." She declared.

Macen looked up from his padd, "My God Amanda, you're out of uniform."

Drake smirked, "I'm on leave. I'm taking the opportunity to visit my sister while I'm here."

"So what does that have to do with me?" Macen enquired, "I don't currently work for you. Not unless you want to have that talk you owe me."

"Oh yes you do." Drake grinned like the proverbial cat.

"I think you'd better sit down." Macen suggested, "Can I get you anything?"

"The smell of coffee is permeating this place." Drake observed, "Don't tell me you have real beans."

"Yup." Macen gleefully grinned, "Freshly ground. Want some?"

"I'd kill for some." Drake replied with a laugh.

"How do you take it?" Macen asked as he rose.

"Do you have Irish cream?" Drake asked.

"No," Macen said, "but I can replicate some."

"What about flavoured syrups?" Drake wondered.

"That I have." Macen said with a smile.

"Then I'll take hazelnut if you have it." Drake ordered up.

"Be right back." Macen promised and headed for the townhouse's kitchen.

T'Kir continued to simply stare at Drake. Finally Drake responded, "Can I help you?"

"Nope." T'Kir shook her head.

"Then what is it?" Drake demanded.

"You look like a normal person." T'Kir replied, "I didn't think that was possible."

"My husband will be happy to hear that." Drake drolly commented.

"That's another thing that's too weird to think about." T'Kir opined.

"You're giving me lectures on convention and normality?" Drake scoffed, "That's rich."

T'Kir grinned, "Ain't it though?"

"What about your ensemble?" Drake nodded at T'Kir. T'Kir wore an olive green spaghetti strap tank top with black denim pants and black ankle boots. Drake shook her head, "Do you always dress like a mercenary?"

"Only every other day." T'Kir smirked as she nodded agreement. Her hair, loosely pulled into a tail, bobbed up and down with her motions.

The door chimed and T'Kir bolted for the door. With a jubilant "Hi!" she let Grace in. Grace saw Drake and did a double take.

"Sorry." Grace blushed, "I didn't recognise you."

Macen reappeared at that point carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, "Hi Hannah."

Grace curtsied. Her leather long coat scraped across the floor. T'Kir disappeared for a moment and then reappeared wearing her Tal Shiar issue V-necked black leather duster. She was also strapping on her gunbelt.

"You two make quite a pair." Drake observed, "Do you have the same tailor?"

"The coat used to be T'Kir's but she gave to me." Grace explained.

"And you," Drake stared at T'Kir, "don't you go anywhere without that thing on?"

"It's a nice coat." T'Kir protested.

"Not that," Drake clarified, "the gun."

T'Kir wore a giddy smile, "My gun is my friend."

"I'm sure." Drake sarcastically replied. Looking to Macen, she added, "And I thought you were nuts for naming your phaser."

"Laren and I were quite happy together." Macen grinned.

Drake rolled her eyes, "Lord help me."

"We're off." T'Kir bounced to Macen's side and kissed him on the cheek. He caught and drew her in for a proper kiss. Finishing, T'Kir looked pleadingly at Grace, "D'we have to go?"

"We made plans, dearie." Grace remarked with her arms folded across her chest, "We're testing out the new modifications Joachim made to the Corsair."

T'Kir backhanded Macen's arm, "You were supposed to come."

"Before I reply, let me say 'Ow'." Macen rubbed his arm, "I'd come but I need to stay behind and pay the bills."

T'Kir stuck her tongue out. Walking away, she called over her shoulder, "Don't forget, we have plans for this afternoon."

"I'm sure Amanda will be gone by then." Macen assured her.

"Good." T'Kir declared and she and Grace departed.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, she wants me gone." Drake opined.

"Yup." Macen confirmed.

Drake scowled, "That was your opportunity to make me feel better."

"It's not my job, Amanda." Macen retorted, "You wanted that bracketed pip on your collar. You also get the grief that comes with it."

Drake sighed. She took a sip of her coffee, "Mmm. That's good. My compliments."

"Thanks." Macen acknowledged the praise and then asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Before I get into that, what's T'Kir's latest beef with me?" Drake wondered.

Macen leaned back and became very sombre, "She resents working for the SID. She sees it as risking too much."

"I'll agree that you don't get the easiest cases but how is this different from when you were in the Maquis?" Drake pointedly asked.

"That time ended ten years ago." Macen explained, "Now we're together and she's seriously considering starting a family."

"T'Kir?" Drake's eyes bulged, "T'Kir as a mother? Wouldn't that qualify as child abuse?"

"I admit that a child of ours would receive a unique upbringing," Macen wore a rueful grin, "but she or he wouldn't be abused."

"Like T'Kir said, it's just too weird to think about." Drake was still in shock.

"All right," Macen drew himself up, "why are you here?"

Drake grinned like a little girl with a naughty secret, "Like I said, your contract has been renewed."

"I thought Jellico wanted my head." Macen replied.

"He does." Drake's grin grew, "And as Theatre Commander of the Alpha Quadrant, he can have it…as long as you're a commissioned officer in Starfleet. As a reinstated member of the Council of Five, he tried to demand that your contract be contingent upon you're being commissioned. Sadly enough for him, the rest of the Council voted against his proposition and your contract was renewed."

"Wait a minute," Macen looked aghast, "Jellico was promoted to the second highest position in Starfleet and he was put back on the Council?"

"The best way to control Eddie is to have him close by." Drake's smile was feral.

"So I'm free?" Macen enquired.

"Not quite." Drake replied apprehensively, "Jellico insisted that we review your team's operating methods. That was a unanimous decision."

"What kind of investigation?" Macen warily asked.

"A member of the SID who was brought up through Internal Affairs' ranks, like myself, will accompany you during an assignment." Drake explained.

"Amanda!" Macen protested, "She'll get in the way and I can't guarantee her safety."

"You don't need to." Drake insisted, "She's a fully qualified SID officer. She'll hold her own."

Macen looked as though he'd swallowed something sour, "This is a terrible idea."

"The alternative is to come back to Earth and undergo a full, formal inquiry." Drake pronounced.

"Okay, the idea is getting better every time I hear it." Macen remarked.

"So you'll agree to submit to this informal investigation?" Drake asked

"Yes." Macen sighed, "I was just wondering how I'll explain Starfleet rules to Joachim?"

Drake rolled her eyes, "You'd better find a way. Your Nova Romans have given us nothing but trouble since you forced us to acknowledge them. They're as prickly as Klingons, twice as stubborn as Vulcans and at least three times as canny as Romulans."

"You gotta love `em." Macen happily bubbled.

"Bob Johnson was ready to strangle you for several weeks." Drake revealed, "Their Emperor wanted to have a formal treaty with us but balked at the term 'protectorate'. Bob practiced some fancy linguistic footwork and accomplished the same thing."

"Not to the Romans, he didn't." Macen chuckled, "It would behove you to reread all of the fine print and the exact cultural meanings of the words as employed in Latin."

Drake hesitated. Pulling a padd out of her jacket pocket, she made some notations, "I'll have someone look into that."

"You do that." Macen smirked.

"Wipe that smug expression off of your face or I will personally cancel your contract." Drake threatened.

This amused Macen even more. Restraining his laughter, he changed the topic, "So how are things going with the Iotians?"

Drake shot one last irritated look in Macen's direction before replying, "The Iotians are sincerely trying to normalise relations between the 'two' Federations. The plain fact that they've given up on their protection racket is proof enough of that."

Macen pondered that point. The Iotians, in loving homage to their gangster forerunners, would sail into a solar system and demand resources and trade goods in exchange for the "protection" provided by membership in the Iotian Federation. They had carried on in this way for nearly a quarter of a century.

"The good news," Drake interrupted Macen's train of thought with a smile, "is that Sigma Iotia II is about to have their very first elections. The Federation has been brought in to advise and oversee the process."

Macen was astounded, "How?"

"Well, as you know, James Kirk left Iotia in the hands of Bela Oxmyx and his lieutenant, Kracko. Oxmyx swiftly declared the 'Syndicate Racket's top position to be a hereditary one. Kracko's family was displaced by the next generation of Oxmyx's. The new Oxmyx declared his in-laws to be the Bela family, named in honour of his father, and placed them as the hereditary heirs to the lieutenantship."

"Things went smoothly until the Iotian Starfleet was launched." Drake wore a nasty smile, "The real power lay with the Starfleet so Oxmyx declared his family to be the Grand Admirals of Starfleet while the Belas became the planetary rulers."

"Until recently when the contemporary Oxmyx ousted the Belas and seized the reins of power from both ends." Macen completed for her.

"Well," Drake's smile was utterly feral now, "it seems the good citizens of Iotia are tired about just hearing about their rights and decided to utilise them. Led by representatives of the Kracko family, who have become Iotia's leading voices of reform, they stormed the Bela mansion and staged a coup."

Drake delightedly brought her hands together, "The elections are in three months and there are already candidates for every seat of the proposed parliament."

"And where do the Krackos fit into this?" Macen cautiously wondered.

"That's the best part!" Drake bubbled, "The Kracko family is staying out of it. They're staying in their place as an independent watchdog."

"All right," Macen conceded, "I'm impressed."

Drake wagged her finger at Macen, "I knew you would be. You're always so sceptical. It's amazing that you can have any fun at all."

"I have fun."

"I know." Drake deflated, "That's what I don't understand."

"I've learned to leave it all behind when the mission is done." Macen asserted.

"Oho!" Drake sneered, "So he says now."

"Once the mission's done, all I can do is review my decisions, identify my mistakes and learn from them." Macen proclaimed.

"Sounds nice but life isn't that cut and dried." Drake retorted, "Somewhere inside, every mission you've ever been on is eating away at you. That's probably why you fail every psych eval we subject you to."

Drake was surprised by Macen's reaction. The man was robbed of his usual poise and he uncomfortably squirmed in his seat. For a moment, for just a flash, he was vulnerable. His defences and pretences were stripped bare and he was exposed.

Macen's voice was raw with emotion as he spoke, "You have no idea why I fail those tests, Amanda. The results are clinical and sanitised for consumption. The reality is darker…and far more dangerous."

Drake sat there, completely still and quiet as a stone. Macen sat before her and she hadn't a clue as how to proceed next. She watched as he rebuilt his shields. It was like he was putting on another person's exterior.

Drake opened her mouth but Macen curtly cut her off, "Whatever platitude you're about to recant, don't."

"To be frank," Drake opted to go with unrestrained honesty, "I'm not sure of what to discuss next."

"Finish your briefing." Macen commanded.

"Riiiight." Drake was still in shock, "I was about to discuss the Kelvans."

"I thought they were in negotiations with the Federation." Macen was puzzled.

"Negotiations?" Drake scoffed, "Try one sided demands."

"On whose part?" Macen dreaded the answer.

"The Kelvans want a military alliance…period." Drake revealed, "Any cultural exchanges are to be one sided. They take and we provide. Their leader…"

"Parvac." Macen supplied.

"Yes, Parvac." Drake uttered the name like a curse, "He sees the Federation as a convenient tool. He has no interest in a dialogue."

"We have alliances with other similar species." Macen reminded her.

"Not ones that can wipe out an Omicron fleet without trying hard." Drake groused, "These people are dangerous."

"Do you trust them?" Macen asked.

Drake snorted, "Not a chance in hell."

"Then why not explain that to them?" Macen wondered.

"It has been." Drake said wearily, "The Federation's envoy has repetitively stressed the need for trust and common ground upon which to build an alliance and…"

"And the Kelvans keep pushing." Macen finished for her.

"Damned right they do." Drake cursed, "And they're so insular it's been impossible for either Alynna or I to insert agents into their colony."

"I thought there were human settlers on New Kelva." Macen remarked.

"There are but the Kelvans keep tabs on them as well." Drake muttered in disgust.

"Oh well." Macen sighed, "That approach wouldn't help you very much. Hannah has told me the Kelvans keep their distance from the humans."

"They're definitely doing that at the negotiating table." Drake said, "It's like they don't want to be infected by us."

Macen wore a sombre expression, "They don't want to be influenced by your emotional expressions. They're already having a hard enough time adapting to their new forms."

"That's what our exosociologists think as well." Drake offered a wan smile. Draining the last of her mug, she handed it towards Macen, "Can I trouble you for another cup?"

"Don't get spoiled." Macen laughed as he accepted her cup and rose to pad off to the kitchen.