Carmen clung to consciousness on the brig floor. As she wove in and out, reality started mingling with memories. Instead of lying at the guard's feet in a puddle of her own blood, she was making her way through a maze of red and black halls on a different Bird-of-Prey. The air reeked of exhaust as she picked up the pace, hurrying towards an important meeting...

Already she was running late. Normally, this would not have flustered her so. But today there was too much at stake. Up ahead, an officer was coming down the same hall. She recognized Vullek's distinct gait. He was the captain's nephew, and had a way of getting beneath the young woman's skin. Upon seeing Carmen, he stepped into the middle of the path.

She stopped a few feet short of him, fists planted on her hips. "Well? Are you going to move, or shall I make you?"

"On your way to see the admiral?" he asked, ignoring her threat.

"Yes. And you are making me late."

"I know you are not overly fond of the man. Would you...perhaps...like me to accompany you?"

Carmen found herself taken aback by the unwonted gentleness in the Klingon's voice. Her hands slid down to her sides.

"No. I can handle this alone."

He smiled ruefully. "I should have known you would say that. You always say that."

Her lips twitched, wanting to grimace. "I am still late, Vullek. And you are still in my way."

He sighed heavily. "I will miss you, Qa'Hom. Many of us will."

Something bittersweet churned in her chest. "I...I will miss you, too," she mumbled. It surprised her, how much she meant it.

Vullek moved aside. She took a single step, then hesitated. "Hey," she prompted. "Think I will be allowed in Sto'Vo'Kor someday? Or is that only for Klingon souls?"

A smile spread across his face. "It is only for Klingons. But you are one of the finest Klingon warriors I have ever met. Albeit the ugliest."

She took a swing at him. He dodged it and then put her in a headlock, a chuckle rumbling from his throat. "Let me go!" she demanded, trying hard not to spoil her defiance with a laugh. "Before I send you to Sto'Vo'Kor myself!"


Carmen paused in the threshold. A single man occupied the briefing room. He had a peppered beard and a garishly decorated Starfleet garb. The very sight of him stoked old, angry flames in the young woman's heart. She pictured Picard's eyes shining in the lamplight with tears of defeat.

"Ensign Riker!" The man looked up and flashed her a cloying smile. "Come in, come in."

"Admiral Leyton." She hailed him with a polite nod and then took the seat across from him. "Sorry I am late. I...I uh...wanted to thank-you. For finally giving me this opportunity."

He cocked his head to the side. "Finally?"

"Yes, sir. This was my seventh time applying for the transfer."

"Ah." His brows knit together. "Are you not satisfied here?"

"That's not it." Beneath the table, her hands balled into fists. Of course he wouldn't remember. "It's just that...I grew up on the Enterprise. I have been keen to return."

"Ah, yes, that's right!" Leyton nodded vigorously. "Didn't your father serve as well? What was his name again...William? William Riker?"

"Yes." Carmen despised the way her father's name sounded in his mouth.

"Well, I have been going over your record," he said, tapping a screen that lay on the table before him. "And you are a shining example of the draft's success."

"Success?" she repeated. The flames rose higher in her chest. "Do you know how many of your child-soldiers have been slaughtered before my eyes, admiral?" She trembled with the restraint that it took not to reach across the table and strangle him.

"We all appreciate the sacrifices that have had to be made. But Haven One is secure, and plans for Haven Two are underway. Thanks to people like you, of course." She remained silent and aloof. "Anyway," he continued. "The Enterprise will be here soon to pick you up. However...there is something that needs to be discussed first. A stipulation, if you will."

Her stomach dropped. "A what?" She leaned over the table, almost as if she were poising herself to leap at him. He held up his palms and flashed her another simpering smile.

"Maybe stipulation is too strong of a word. Think of it as...as an opportunity. Am I correct that your father was second in command?"

She nodded, seething with anger.

"Well, how would you like to follow in his footsteps?"

Her rage dissipated, replaced by shock. She could only blink back at him, utterly speechless. Leyton's smile widened.

"I thought you might like the idea." His settled deeper into his seat.

"You mean-you mean second in command of the Enterprise?" she stuttered.

"Yes."

"To serve alongside Captain Picard?"

"No."

"My father always-wait, what?"

"Not Picard." Leyton held her gaze unflinchingly. In the ugly red light of the overhead lamps, his skin looked ashen as a corpse. So did his expression. "See, Picard is...he is a relic of the past. He has been reluctant to adjust. And the council is tired of fighting him at every turn."

"What will you do then? Relieve him of duty?"

"No, no." Leyton laughed, straightening the lapels of his garb in a lackadaisical fashion. "Well...not me personally."

Carmen pushed away from the table and stood up. "What exactly is this stipulation, admiral?"

Leyton stood up as well. His demeanor shifted to something much more serious, much more menacing. "Commander Wharton has informed me that Picard is keeping a number of Romulans in his brig."

"Romulans? Why?"

"I don't know the whole story. And frankly, I don't care. But I am ordering you to neutralize them."

"You would have me go behind my captain's back?"

"He will not be captain much longer. Commander Wharton will take his place. And I want you to ensure that the process goes as...smoothly...as possible."

Carmen's head spun. Suddenly, it felt as if the floor were spinning, too. She bent over the table onto her palms. "I...I cannot do this…"

Leyton clicked his tongue. "With a record like yours, surely a mission like this would not disturb you. But if you are not up to the task, then I will find someone else to help Wharton lead the Enterprise."

"What you are speaking of is mutiny!" she cried. "Mutiny against the man that my father died to protect!"

Leyton gathered his things together calmly. "It's funny, you know. That you should defend him."

"Why is that?" she growled.

"Ensign Riker, it was not the council who kept rejecting your petition to transfer. It was Picard."