Captain's log, stardate 99523.2 - The starship Meitner is on its way to the Bajor shipyards, and I suspect I'll be called to testify whenever the board of inquiry is established into its near-destruction. I can't help but wonder what the results of whatever inquiry is due for my actions recently, and hope to hear something conclusive in the coming days. In the meantime, Warspite has been ordered to Deep Space Nine. I've been requested personally, and I find myself apprehensive about the reasons why.

The door from the docking ring slid open, admitting Tw'eak to the Promenade. She well knew the way to Ops from here, and silently found herself wishing she could stop into the replimat, or Quark's, for an hour or two before heading up there. It might improve her overall disposition to have a raktajino, or a pint of Andorian ale, even. She felt herself blush slightly at the thought of Andorian ale, and the thought of the last time she had enjoyed any, in Leo's company. That had been quite a night. Her anxiety over being here on official business prevented her from enjoying that memory, however.

As she strode along the Promenade, Tw'eak couldn't help but be captivated by the station. So much of the Federation's history had been determined by the actions of Captain Sisko and his crew - here, not on a starship, although the USS Defiant certainly played its part in the Dominion War. Both starships Defiant, Tw'eak thought to herself. There were at least two. Somehow the thought that Captain Sisko had been through much, much harder circumstances, at a lower rank, reduced her anxiety somewhat.

She recognized the places she had read about, a sort of ritual she had undertaken on all the many occasions she had visited while her ship had docked here - the place where Elim Garak's tailor shop had once been, the spot on the Promenade where the Pah-Wraiths and Prophets had squared off, the Bajoran Temple where Jadzia Dax had been murdered, and through the window, looking that way - there it was, opening just now! - the Celestial Temple, otherwise known as the stable wormhole that led to the Idran system, the Dominion, and the Gamma Quadrant.

As she stepped into the lift, on her way to Ops, she recalled the missions she had herself been asked to undertake on this station by Captain Kurland, its current commander, during the unpleasant period in which first the Mirror Universe, then a force of temporally-displaced Jem'Hadar, had run rampant on board. The war against the Klingons had left this place untouched, and it enjoyed status as a place of neutral refuge despite the war. Now, however, as the turbolift shuddered to life, its dilapidated Cardassian design not nearly as efficiently operated as the Starfleet lifts Tw'eak was accustomed to, she wondered whether the station would provide her with sanctuary, or be the place where her career came to die.

The door opened onto the operations deck, and Tw'eak strode forward, looking upwards in the direction of the captain's office, Sisko's baseball still upon the desk within, an artifact of his time in command. A lieutenant commander, a female Vulcan in a tactical uniform, stepped away from the main display table, and approached her.

"Rear Admiral Sh'abbas?" she inquired.

"I am."

"Lieutenant Commander T'pril. Adjutant to Fleet Admiral Kells."

Tw'eak was immediately alarmed. Her task force was nominally under the command of Fleet Admiral Kells, but he was two ranks above her. His involvement in her command was supposed to be limited to signatures on orders and perhaps a rare conversation over subspace. But he was here? She saluted instinctively, desperate to hold her emotions in check, aware that the Vulcan adjutant would closely monitoring her response. "How may I be of assistance to the fleet admiral?"

"I believe he can explain that himself. He requested that you meet with him aboard the Ranger. I am to accompany you."

"In that case, let's not keep him waiting." Tw'eak gestured a hand towards the transporter pad, and she and T'pril stepped aboard. T'pril nodded towards a lieutenant, who activated the device, and before a few moments were up, Tw'eak found herself in a transporter room nearly identical to the one aboard the Warspite.

"This is the starship Sherman, flagship of the Eighth Fleet. Follow me, please." T'pril moved briskly towards the corridor, through the door and down the hall. Tw'eak followed closely.

"May I ask what I'm doing here?" Tw'eak asked.

"There are certain aspects of your recent service which I understand the admiral wishes to discuss with you."

So this was it, then. Tw'eak opted for a bit of bluster. "May I ask which 'certain aspects' are to be discussed?"

"I believe the admiral would be better qualified to answer that question, although I can... understand your apprehension."

"Not apprehensive, merely trying to understand. I'd hate to misremember or not recall whatever aspects of my recent service the admiral felt it was appropriate to discuss with me."

"Indeed," T'pril said, her tone sour. "That would be most unfortunate."

A few paces further and they came to a door. T'pril sounded the chime, and moments later, the door opened. T'pril preceded first. "Rear Admiral Sh'abbas," she announced. Tw'eak entered to see a rather large set of quarters which had been converted to a private office for the admiral. Behind a large desk with a display unit and a series of padds across its surface sat a graying human male, who stood as Tw'eak entered. Tw'eak came forward and saluted, and as her salute was returned, she stood at attention.

"Yes, it is." The admiral returned to his seat. "Barnard Kells. Eighth Fleet, commanding."

"It's an honour to meet you, sir."

Kells cleared his throat and sorted through some padds. "T'pril?"

The Vulcan had acquired a padd, and looked up from it. "Please be seated."

It hadn't been often in her life that Tw'eak had been in trouble - not official, admininstrative trouble, anyway. She had gotten herself into and out of more scrapes and skirmishes than she could count, often times with a tendency towards being brought to places like this for official recognition or acclaim rather than for the sort of intensive, anxious purpose for which they were presently met. Tw'eak took a look around the sparsely-decorated interior, hoping to locate a point of focus, around which she could concentrate, and in so doing, control her emotions. She had to settle for a picture on the far wall, an abstract series of boxes. She picked an orange one between two shaded blue, and fixated it in her mind. If she could keep her gaze from wavering, keep her antennae parallel to its sides, she could convey a sense of calm, of cool, confident certainty, which she in no way felt. It couldn't hurt, she figured.

T'pril began. "According to your report, on stardate 99501 you arrived at space station Deep Space Nine."

"That's correct."

"At which point, you were provided with intelligence regarding your sister, Lieutenant Dashichal Sh'abbas."

"Zh'abbas," Tw'eak corrected. "Dashii is a zhen female, not a shan, as I am."

"Noted. Nevertheless, the statement is otherwise correct."

"Yes."

"What was the source of your information?"

Tw'eak shook her head. "I'm not at liberty to provide any identification of the source."

"Yes, you are," Kells growled.

"Please answer the question," T'pril insisted.

"I'd sooner invoke my rights under the Seventh Guarantee than provide any information." Tw'eak glared at Kells. "Whether ordered to, or otherwise."

Kells shook his head. "Next question."

"Once provided with the information, you returned to USS Warspite immediately?"

"Yes."

"How did you proceed from there?"

Tw'eak knew just what to say. "I returned to my ship, summoned my senior officers together and asked for volunteers. We... during one of our previous missions, we had encountered a force of Starfleet veterans who had opted not to continue their service. They serve under a former Starfleet officer named Kwazii, who refers to himself presently as Selkirk Rex. As a group, they undertake the rescue of those who are captured by Orion slavers or other forces who utilize slave labour. As part of their mission, they patrol a broad area ranging across the Tau Dewa, Pi Canis and Psi Velorum sector blocks, in vessels formerly in the possession of those very slavers. They assisted us in fending off an attack by Hirogen forces in the Mylasa system while I was commanding officer of the Bonaventure, and their existence is known to Starfleet."

"And you contacted this group? With what intention?"

"I didn't personally make the contact. One of my crew members did."

"Which crew member?"

Tw'eak shrugged. "Can't recall. I'm sure it's logged." She fought the urge to smirk - she knew Octavia had used the shuttlecraft's subspace communicator to contact Selkirk Rex's people. As such, no log would have been created aboard Warspite's computers. "With regard to my intentions, I was well-aware they had a better sense of the area, along with more recent intel on what to expect, and thus they could advise how best to proceed. I took a small team of volunteers, and we went to Nimbus III."

"So you claim not to have used your influence as their commanding officer to induce volunteer service?"

"Quite the contrary. I told them I wanted to go alone. They refused to let me. This is all in my report."

"We've read your reports," Kells replied sharply. "Just answer the questions."

"I believe I have." Tw'eak raised an eyebrow at Kells. His hostility was rampantly obvious, and he looked prepared to chomp the end off the padd he held in his hands, or perhaps snap it in two. Tw'eak couldn't really tell which was more likely, but equally likely they seemed.

T'pril, quintessentially Vulcan, simply proceeded unperturbed with the next question. "Your volunteers were... four in number, correct?"

"Yes. Lieutenant Aewon, Lieutenant Zolnaen Didaggo-"

"That's in the file," Kells said, gesturing for T'pril to move along.

"At any time, was your crew or your command staff aware of your departure?"

"The crew was not, nor were the commanders of the respective task force vessels. Commander Eight of Twelve, my first officer, proved more than capable of acting as ...my secretary while I was out of the office, let's say. I was consulted via real-time subspace communications regarding a series of issues aboard during the roughly sixty-eight hours it took for me to retrieve my sister and return to my post."

"Sixty-eight hours." Kells's voice was disbelieving.

"Roughly." Tw'eak addressed Kells directly. "In that time, I was able to traverse the quadrant twice - once in either direction - and co-ordinate a liberation and relief effort of not only one of my family's children, but thousands from across the Federation, but also the Klingon Empire and both major Romulan powers. I believe there were also several Cardassian, Breen and Deferi children among those missing who were safely returned home."

Kells's bad temper had been brewing, and now, the storm raged. "You recklessly abandoned your post, wilfully, in wartime!"

"A thousand light-years from the front."

"In so doing, you directly disobeyed standing orders and procedures, all in the name of retrieving some wayward sister who ALSO abandoned her post."

Tw'eak found it increasingly difficult to remain calm. She channelled her inner Vulcan as best as she could. "As I have stated, Admiral -"

"And then you justify it by saying you sent these kids back home to their mothers. Well, what about the mothers of those kids you left behind on the Meitner?"

"The Meitner was not 'left behind' during my absence, sir." Tw'eak was very clipped in her tone, and the 'sir' she uttered could've cut glass. "Furthermore, as her mission was to undertake scientific survey missions in reportedly unaffiliated systems, she had her own command staff who operated autonomously, as science ships often do and as is Starfleet standard procedure. That command staff's failure to maintain appropriate combat readiness is something I sought to rectify once I had taken command - and, I should add, there are quite a few mothers, sir, who can appreciate that their sons' and daughters' ship is safe in port again."

Kells shook his head, looking around the room as he did. "You let them go into a hostile system without any tactical escort-"

"As I have stated-"

"-and now you want me to believe that they're to blame?"

Tw'eak clenched her jaw momentarily. She considered the situation as though it were a verbal firefight. Admiral Kells was clearly trying to needle her to the point where she conceded the high ground in a frontal assault, made a sort of spoken equivalent of a bayonet charge. Maybe he was counting on her behaving in a fashion typical of Andorians. Maybe he's seen too many holo-vids, she thought to herself, then quickly bit her lip to keep from laughing. She cleared her throat, using the silent moment to balance her emotions.

"Well?" Kells demanded.

"The situation on the Meitner was detailed in my report. A command error, based on a decision taken internally, left her defenseless in an ambush. Her chief engineer's quick thinking was the only thing that prevented the Meitner from being lost before my arrival. Once I came aboard, I set about making that right. We'd had zero intelligence about the True Way being active there - in fact, not a week earlier, the starship Taurus had swept the system and found no sign of anything other than a few long-degraded impulse trails, either from freighters or Cardassian vessels. That was the closest we had to an indication of the, what was it, eight? nine? True Way ships that we destroyed in that system once the task force came to action."

Tw'eak's clear memory had caused the admiral to check his facts on the padd. "I see here the report from the Taurus. It confirms what you've said."

"I submit to you, Admiral, that the fate of the Meitner would have been the same regardless of whether or not I had been onboard the Warspite at the time of the ambush. In fact, it may have been better this way."

Kells snorted. "You've got a lot of nerve saying that. Fifty-three officers, including the entire command crew of that ship, are dead!"

Tw'eak raised a hand momentarily. "Hear me out. Under regulations, to say nothing of my instincts, I would have taken Warspite directly to the last sighted position of the Meitner. On our own, it would've been much the same thing, wouldn't it. A new Avenger class starship, less than a year out of spacedock, would make quite a pelt for the True Way - to say nothing of whether they would take prisoners." Tw'eak leaned back. "As it was, the science and research equipment aboard the Meitner proved invaluable for asymmetrical warfare against the Jem'Hadar ships, and was directly responsible for the destruction of the True Way vessels in-system. To say nothing of the intel on their operations which we've been able to gather from a very co-operative Vorta prisoner. I would've had a hard time repeating all of that from my command chair aboard Warspite."

Kells mulled it over, then narrowed his eyes at Tw'eak. His tone lowered from the furious timbre of previous, from a boil to a simmer. "There'll be a board of inquiry, Sh'abbas. All of this is going to come out, and become public knowledge. And if we don't handle it right, from this moment forward... they'll crucify you."

Tw'eak tilted her head, surprised at the revelation. She had thought this was the crucifixion. "I understand."

"What happened aboard the Meitner, as you've written about in your reports on the subject, have proven to be a regrettable and unavoidable contributor to this entire tragedy. It's bad enough that Flint was running his ship like a brothel, but that you had zero oversight of it will undoubtedly become a major factor in the inquiry."

Tw'eak's eyes shone. Despite his grave tone, she had an idea. "Would the Fleet Admiral be so kind as to permit me just two quick questions?"

"Certainly."

"It would be considered unusual for a commander of a starship to permit his crew members to participate in the civil wars of other powers, to undertake unauthorized experiments that create unexpected new life forms to be brought into the universe as a result, and to allow their personal feelings to interfere with their exercise of the vital powers of command. Do I have all that right?"

"That is correct."

"I'm not sure if you're aware of it, sir, but my first service aboard a starship was aboard the starship Enterprise - the Enterprise-E, to be precise. I was nobody, just a lowly ensign in a phaser room, and I didn't come aboard until about five years after Romulus was destroyed... but I served under a captain who remains my inspiration to this day, Jean-Luc Picard, now Ambassador Picard. During his tenure, he lost a starship under his command and narrowly avoided or prevented the destruction of trillions of lives, and yet all those things I asked of you... he permitted to happen, sometimes on multiple occasions. Picard trusted his officers, sir. And his admirals, in turn, routinely permitted his judgment to prevail on the assumption that, as captain, he knew his ship, his crew, and his orders."

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying, sir, that the command prerogative afforded a starship captain by Starfleet is, and has always been a broad mandate to do the right thing. Rarely have I ever been issued orders that were specific, precise and inviolable. During my time with the service, I have been given direction, been offered advice, been permitted to make my own contingency plans and, what's more, to make my own mistakes... and learn from them in the process. That I offered the same leeway to Captain Flint should not come as a surprise to anyone. I admit, freely, that I had no idea how the Meitner was organized, and that it was allowed to happen on my watch, I accept was my responsibility. But I wouldn't want any different from a superior officer were I in Flint's position. Leniency, permissiveness... or simply perhaps an expectation of the best that comes as a precondition to wearing this uniform. We trust our officers to make the right decisions. Flint made his mistakes. That's on him. That's not how I would have expected him to behave. But I had every right to expect better from him without verification. He heard the same speeches I did while at the Academy, I'm sure."

Flint furrowed his brow. "I see what you're saying. And, to be clear, I respect it. You've got thirty years' service, or damn near it. Flint was barely seven years in."

"In all that time, sir, I should note... it never would've occurred to me for a second to run any crew of mine with the kind of reckless power-trip that Flint did."

"No, I get that, too. It's this other business that concerns me. The Federation more or less expects its admirals to be old gray-haired Vulcans, putting their feelings aside at all times. You and I both know that it's hard sometimes even for the Vulcans to do that." T'pril's ears perked up. "That's not intended as an insult - what I mean is, if we operated starships by the cold path of logic alone, we could automate every starship and not run the risk of what my people call 'human error'. Vulcans have instincts they follow, just like humans do, like Andorians do. Sometimes those instincts lead to... unorthodox situations. It's just hard to explain how you felt your mission to Nimbus was an acceptable risk - especially given the extreme risk of your death or capture. No superior officer would have ever cleared you for this, and that's probably why you went ahead and got it done. I know your record well enough to understand that your comfort level with extreme risk is far different from most command officers, which is part of the reason you've got a Pike Medal for Valour... and part of the reason you lost an arm. But will the board of inquiry understand these things? Hell... I have no idea."

Tw'eak sensed another opportunity. "Do you have any family, sir?"

"I do. A wife, three kids - two in the service. Both out of harm's way, thank God." Kells raised a finger. "Not that I had anything to do with that, to be clear. Simply a happy coincidence, for my sake."

"My family - Andorian families, you know, they're big." Kells nodded. "Four parents, seven siblings. At least, that's where we were, before I attended the Academy. My zhavey was killed in action just before I graduated from the Academy, and my thavan died fighting the Klingons somewhere - Marine records, even of death, remain classified for a while, so I don't know where. All four of my brothers and one of my sisters have died in the line of duty as well during this war. Now there's just my shreya, my charan, myself... and now, once again, Dashii." Tw'eak watched Kells shift uncomfortably, letting the silence linger for a moment, before she continued. "I know you're worried about the consequences of my decisions over the past couple weeks. Believe me, I have been, too. But this was the least dangerous, the most efficient way I could find to get her back. I wasn't prepared to go through this universe as the last of my parents' children. I wasn't prepared to tell Dashii's bond-mates that I had the option to act and couldn't, or wouldn't, because regulations said so. And believe me, too, when I tell you... if it hadn't been available as an option, there would have been absolutely nothing holding me back from making an option out of nothing at all."

Kells placed a hand across his mouth, rubbing a five-o'clock shadow which was present, while looking down at the padd. After a few moments, he leaned back in his chair. "Let's wrap this up, T'pril. Rear Admiral Sh'abbas, I hereby notify you that pending a board of inquiry- here Kells's tone shifted to a near-whisper "-which I sincerely hope will largely be a formality as it regards your involvement or culpability... you're to be relieved of command and placed upon administrative suspension."

"I understand." Tw'eak felt herself exhale for what felt like the first time. Her antennae curled down slightly in disappointment. Then she raised an eyebrow. "And the task force?"

"We're promoting Eight of Twelve to full captain. She's earned it. Warspite will be her ship now."

Tw'eak smiled. "I can think of no one better qualified. I'm very happy for her."

"Not sure whom I'll put in charge of the task force until you've returned to duty - and I know who that shreya of yours is whom you referred to, and you'd be sooner advised to fist-fight a Capellan power cat than serve as opposing counsel. You'd be hard-pressed to find a more capable advocate - but once you've returned to duty, contact me to let me know if you intend to raise your flag in Warspite, or what Starfleet has in mind with you. I would envision that you'll be promoted further to Vice Admiral once this is all over with."

"Vice Adm-?"

"That'll mean a move away from front-line command, you realize. No more command chair, no ship of your own at all, in fact. They don't let VAs use these starships for much more than floating office complexes, well back of the danger zone, I'm afraid. Gets worse once you're a full Admiral, never mind Fleet Admiral. However, the rank is a reflection of both your ability and Starfleet's need for strong leadership - and trust me, you'll certainly have earned it. Circumstances aside, that was a damn fine bit of work on Nimbus. Can't believe you pulled that off."

"Thank you, sir," Tw'eak began, then she added, "You might've said that from the outset, sir."

For the first time, Kells smiled. "Naw. Had to figure you out. If this thing gets heated, I need to know that you're as cool under fire in a court of judicial inquiry as you are under actual fire. Seems to me that we've got nothing much to worry about in that regard. Besides which, as you said, Flint was a maniac, but he was an exception to the rules that most Starfleet captains aspire to uphold. Had you told me you'd been his inspiration or some such thing, or that it'd been your idea, this conversation would've gone a whole different direction."

"Far from it, sir."

"And don't take this suspension thing too hard. It's a formality. Mostly for public relations. Gives you a little time off, if nothing else."

"With all due respect, sir, that's the last thing I want - just as being posted on the far side of the galaxy from the front lines has been all along."

"Yeah, I understand that, but you know how this works. Starfleet needs you someplace, that's where you go."

Tw'eak took a deep breath. Kells's sudden cordial turn was somehow harder for her to deal with than when he had been furiously interrogating her. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to talk to him - it was that the sudden shift in tone had left her in a position where she was less familiar with the risks involved in what she felt she should say. Despite the fleet admiral's candor in speaking to her, she knew full well that she was in considerable trouble.

"Now, I'll have T'pril here notify your crew and staff of the changes, and I'll see to Eight of Twelve's promotion to captain personally." Kells nodded to T'pril, who began tapping upon her padd. "Now, is there anything we can do for you?"

"Short of letting me return to duty? I'm not really sure."

Kells chuckled. "Soon enough. It'll be hell, but you know what they say - if you're goin' through hell, keep right on going."

"Sorry, sir, Hell's a vacation spot to an Andorian."

"Ha!" Kells nodded, amused. "You're all right."

"But I can think of a couple things I'd like to ask. Will I be confined to my quarters or anything?"

"No. Unless you're issued a summons to appear, you're free to conduct yourself as you will - out of uniform, of course, you understand. And keep out of trouble. The lower a profile you can keep in the meantime, the easier it'll be for all of us. I think we can loan you a shuttlecraft, but beyond that... Oh, you'll be restricted from access to any Starfleet installations or starships. You're a civilian again until we tell you otherwise. You'll have time to return to your ship, get your belongings together, that sort of thing - but that's it."

"Even Deep Space Nine?"

"Not technically a Starfleet installation, exactly. If the Bajorans don't have a problem with you being there, then you're fine."

"I hope not. Um..." Tw'eak thought about it for a moment, carefully wording her next point. "I heard what you said, about my shreya, but truthfully, sir, I have pretty strong feelings about nepotism and perceived family-related abuses of power. I'd rather she not get involved for that reason." And about ten thousand others, Tw'eak didn't say.

"I can appreciate that. As I said before, I never once interfered in the careers of either of my kids - and one's a musician, went his own way in life. My wife tells me he found his calling, but I don't know if I'd call it that. Look, I can understand you wanting to choose your own advocate. I'm sure you know a couple yourself."

"I do, sir," Tw'eak lied. The only one she knew was the parent she was hoping would find out after the court-martial.

"That's that, then. Anything else?"

"One last thing, sir. My sister, Dashii."

"Will also be suspended from duty. I understand she's been confined to guest quarters aboard Warspite, pending court-martial for dereliction of duty."

"I'd like to ask that her medical examination be entered into the record as part of the proceeding. They tortured her pretty badly, and used her as a lure to get to me. She was pretty badly off when we found her, but she stayed with me when I took command of the Meitner and did a fantastic job. The whole surviving crew of that ship is worthy of commendation, in fact, but few of them were as harshly treated for as long as Dashii."

"That information did not appear in your report," T'pril said unexpectedly. Tw'eak had half-forgotten the Vulcan was even there.

"Of course it didn't. She asked me not to mention it."

"That's fair," Kells admitted, before adding, "If there are mitigating circumstances, then yes, they'll be acceptable as evidence, but that'll be at her discretion, not yours. You don't get to release her medical information - you're not even listed as her next of kin."

"I'm aware of that, sir - her bond-mates would be anyway. But I would like to request that, pending her investigation, she be transferred to the crew of the Warspite."

Kells tilted his head backwards, looking down the length of his nose at Tw'eak. "On what grounds?"

"Well, presuming I'm still in command, of course, and presuming Dashii is also cleared returns to duty... I'll be less likely to run off across the universe after her, and she'll be less likely to get away with doing it, too."

"I'm... not sure I understand. She does this a lot?"

"We've both run away from home - from Andoria, I mean. My admission to the Academy was deferred while I hid out on Vulcan for a few months. I was convinced my 'calling', to use your phrase from earlier, lay elsewhere."

"Seems to me you were wrong."

"Sure does. But I've accepted that - and when I left home, I was still a teenager. Dashii's a bit of a romantic sometimes. She doesn't always make good decisions. And if Octavia - Eight of Twelve, I mean - is promoted to captain, she'll want a good first officer."

"And you think your sister would be that?"

"No, sir, I think my chief engineer, Aurora duBois, would be. It's not my place to tell Octavia who her first officer would be, but the choice should be obvious. That means, however, that Warspite will need another engineer. They will anyway, now that the Orion we knew as K'Vor is dead. And since I doubt that Dashii will be welcome aboard the Majestic, it's probably best that she be transferred administratively to a ship where she can have a fresh start."

"You just told me you hate nepotism. Now you angle for me to put your sister on your starship?"

"My old starship. If your expectations are accurate, I won't be part of that crew for much longer. Octavia can keep her in line if I'm not around to do it."

Kells looked off at the far wall. "You're sure? I mean, if you do end up with Warspite in your task force, or God forbid as your flagship, you'll have to issue orders to your own sister. This is one of the reasons why Starfleet protocols don't permit family members to serve together - we'd have to issue an order of special permission because of it. And you'll have your shreya breathing down my neck if either or both of you are lost in combat. Remember what I said about fist-fighting a Capellan power cat?"

"It's an unusual request, I know-"

"Damn right it is. Why do you think I'm saying yes?"

Tw'eak blinked. This admiral was full of surprises. "I... don't know, sir."

"If it'll keep you from fundamentally shifting the balance of power in the Alpha Quadrant once every few months, then I'll sign off on it immediately."

"I - um, I'll do my best. Thank you, sir."

"Not sure you should be thanking me yet. We'll see." Kells tapped upon his padd. "There are a lot of unknowns in the near future, Sh'abbas. Probably a few more than that down the way. Where your sister is... shouldn't be one of them."

"I appreciate that, sir."

"Besides which, if she's an officer anything like her sister, or has the potential to become like her, then I think we should nurture that."

"Indeed."

Kells stood up. "If there's nothing further, I'm late for dinner with my wife. She hates that."

"Not at present. Although - wait. Yeah, one thing."

"What is it?"

Tw'eak stood up and smiled. "Any chance of you demoting me to Captain?"

Kells shook his head. "If you think for a second I'm going to let you pull a James Kirk, you're going to be sadly mistaken."

"I... see your point. Alright. Thank you, sir." Tw'eak stood to attention and saluted. Kells returned the salute, as did T'pril, who rose from her seat to do so. The Vulcan ushered Tw'eak to the door, and from there, back to the Warspite. Her head still reeling from what had just transpired, Tw'eak found her mind leaping rapidly from topic to topic, frantically seeking some reassuring centre, some point of stability - the kind she would typically have gotten from simply going about her business from one day to the next. But with an impending suspension from duty, from that daily business of being a flag officer... well, now what? The question followed her like a dark cloud as she went down the corridor, following T'pril back towards the USS Sherman's transporter room.