Upon returning to her quarters, Tw'eak fell asleep pretty quickly, all things considered. It wasn't like her to fall asleep so soon after a meal, but the replicated food was decent for once. Tw'eak considered, upon returning her empty dishes to the replicator, that maybe it was simply that she was that hungry. Andorians tended to run their metabolisms on the high side, and Tw'eak was no exception. Couple that with the fact of her recovering injuries and it made a lot of sense. Or at least, it would have, if she had been able to concentrate on the matter for long. She felt the need for sleep weighing on her, as if the gravitational field in her quarters had trebled, and gave into the sensation, pulling up a blanket and nodding off.

She awoke the next morning to the sound of her door chime. Sitting up took effort. So did standing. Tw'eak cursed, as she straightened and stretched. Even her antennae felt stiff. "Computer, time?"

"Ship's time is currently oh-six forty-seven," came the reply.

So at least it wasn't her perception - whoever it was, they were calling early. It then occurred to Tw'eak that she had fallen asleep with her uniform pants and undershirt still on. This made it an easy matter to slip on her jacket and answer the door, though it still felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

"Enter," she said as the door chimed again, her jacket securely fastened.

The door opened, and Counselor Gwen Downie appeared on the other side. "I know it's early, I'm sorry if I woke you."

"It's alright," Tw'eak said, clearing her throat. "I was up anyway."

"I can see that. May I come in?"

"Please." Tw'eak gave an ushering gesture to the table next to the replicator. "It's not often I get such a good night's rest."

"Just what I hoped would happen!" Downie said as she sat down, clapping her hands together in a pleased manner. "I'm so glad you were able to rest."

Tw'eak took two steps towards Downie, her tone less fond. "Are you here about the investigation?" she asked.

"No, I just thought I'd check in, before the day begins, see how you're feeling."

"So it's for professional reasons," Tw'eak corrected.

"One of the many disadvantages of my position onboard is that people don't know when I'm being sociable. I almost wish I could wear a hat or a uniform that lights up when I'm in 'counselor' mode, so that nobody thinks less of me for actually caring."

The sudden, and strangely cheery, way in which Downie delivered this admonition took Tw'eak aback. "I apologize."

"Don't be - it happens all the time."

Tw'eak made a conciliatory gesture towards the replicator. "Can I get you a drink, perhaps?"

"I wouldn't mind, if you are."

Tw'eak nodded, instructing the replicator. "A Vulcan spice tea, and..." She glanced to Downie.

"Coffee, double sweet, with cream."

The replicator whirred, producing two mugs full of hot liquid on saucers. Tw'eak handed one to Downie. "I've been thinking, about all of this," Tw'eak began.

"Oh?" Downie took a sip of her coffee. "About what, exactly?"

"You, specifically. I hadn't said ten words to you, the whole time I've been onboard, and now here we are again."

"It's perfectly understandable, of course, Commander. You needed time when you first came aboard to establish routines, and patterns of behaviour. Besides, I can tell when my particular services are being avoided."

Tw'eak winced. "I wouldn't say 'avoided'."

"No, but I understand it. There's still that perception, especially among certain members of the Federation, that accessing therapeutic counseling services is a sign of weakness, of a bad leader. I have to accept it as the price of doing business, that sometimes my... customers are reluctant to take advantage of my presence aboard."

"I don't know if it's as simple as that."

"Even if it wasn't," Downie said with a smile, "I'd say we've more than made up for lost time, haven't you?"

Tw'eak let herself laugh in response to this, and found that, despite her misgivings (which were exactly what Downie described, even if Tw'eak couldn't admit it to herself), she found the counselor to be engaging company.

"Though I have to admit, there are certain members of the crew I find myself really not enjoying having around."

Tw'eak raised an eyebrow. "It seems like everyone has a grudge against someone else on this ship."

"Oh, it's nothing like that." Downie flashed her smile again. "Lieutenant Baird... there's just something about him. So tall, and he has that way about him, like you just want him to sweep you into his arms." Downie's face suddenly fell. "Although I must apologize for the image - given that he, quite literally, had to do that for you."

Tw'eak wrinkled her nose slightly. "It's okay, I don't remember that happening." She smirked at Downie. "Hopefully you're not jealous of me."

"Oh, not at all!" Downie took another sip of coffee. "It's his wife I'm jealous of - although I don't know who I feel for more, her for being so far away from him, or me, to know that he's married." She shook her head. "I don't know why, but none of the rest of them do anything for me."

"You don't have anyone?" Tw'eak asked.

"No, always alone. It's what they say, you know - logistics officers have the messiest closets, helm officers have the worst sense of direction, away from the conn, anyway... and counselors have the saddest love lives."

Tw'eak nodded. "It's the price of rank, too."

"I admit, I was a bit surprised - but it made sense once I read a little further in your medical history. That must be incredibly hard for you, not to have a bond group."

"You can't miss what you never had," Tw'eak said, forcing a breezy tone. "Or never had a chance of having."

"I admit, I'm a bit confused by it. I know that Andorians have the relatively unique ability to have a sex life that's completely separate from their reproduction, but in your case..."

"I get to have neither, as it stands." Tw'eak quipped. "Just lucky that way."

Downie laughed, a giggly sort of hiccup, and nodded appreciatively. "Not what I meant, but yes, there we have it." She offered Tw'eak another of her broad, warm smiles. "As I said, I can imagine how that must have isolated you from other Andorians."

Tw'eak gave another smirk. "Oh, that isolation was voluntary."

Downie gave another giggle at this. "Oh, you've quite a wit, I can appreciate that."

"My upbringing was very traditional. With the exception of that. I was the oldest. I watched all six of my siblings join their bond groups, over the years. Most of them won't be coming home now." She shook her head. "That makes me feel more isolated than anything else, really. I've lost a few parts of myself over the years, literally and otherwise, but I'm alive. And nearly everyone else I knew, grew up with..." She shook her head sadly, her antennae tilting forwards in grief. "I can't tell you how many people I've lost - good people, not just my family, not just Andorians, but people from all over, people I've served with, who have died in this war, or some other manner. It's too easy for me to lose the people I'd rather not. I'd trade places with any one of them."

"Is that because you feel they could do this better than you could?"

Tw'eak gave a sad chuckle. "Just about anyone could."

"I don't agree with that, and neither does this crew."

"This crew..." Tw'eak shook her head. "Minus one, now."

"I wouldn't go blaming yourself for that, too. We weren't even aboard at the time."

"No, but someone was. Someone who killed one of my subordinates. And it hurts, to have to live with that, to know that if I - I don't know, if I'd been on the bridge at the time, maybe I would've noticed the internal sensors were offline."

Downie nodded. "This is all very common, you know - 'survivor's guilt'. Those who were affected by a loss - in this case, a murder - try to rationalize, seek solace in explaining to themselves how it happened, what might have been done differently... if only."

"Isn't that the purpose of an investigation?"

"Yes, but it's also why the aggrieved make the worst investigators. We both need to be as strong and as objective as Vulcans in this matter."

"I know, I'm just..." Tw'eak looked for the words for a moment. "I'm tired of death. It's just ...I really wish there was some way to guarantee that no one further would die or get hurt, to lower the risk factors just a bit, for just long enough to change things."

"What kind of things?" Downie asked.

"Just... morale. It pains me to know that Mellivenk died on a ship where he wasn't happy serving. It pains me to know how many more unhappy crew members are aboard - unhappy for a thousand different reasons. I've tried to change some of those reasons, for the better, but I'm not sure it's going to work."

"I can tell you that it is, so far, working. But I'd also like to know what else you'd like to see done better."

Tw'eak looked down at her disappointing cup of spice tea. "Well, these replicators, for a start. The food and drink is adequate, but not really... good. It's an important thing. And the social spaces aboard are all so sterile."

"They have to be sterile - food's being served in those spaces."

"Not germs - sterile in atmosphere. I'd... I'd love to see a little more variation. So I can distinguish between the Deck Three mess and the Deck Seven mess, if I want. Or maybe throw open an invitation - music, performances, whatever they like. Give people a chance to show off their talents, if they're willing."

"Those sound like good ideas. Not the first time I've heard them suggested."

"Then why not pass those suggestions on to me?"

Downie smiled. "I was waiting for you to come to me, first. The last thing I would've wanted was for you to misinterpret my suggestions as being insisted upon, like I was spokesperson for an angry mob. I also didn't know you well enough to know if you'd welcome my input. But, as you said before, here we are now."

Tw'eak nodded. "So what else have you heard discussed?"

"Well, aside from the ones you mentioned, one of the ensigns recommended a sort of ship-wide league in various sports, like Parrises squares or Velocity. Or tournaments organized around three-dimensional chess or Stratagema."

Tw'eak liked the sound of that. "That's perfect. Friendly competition."

"One suggestion was to hold an art show, but I think that might be a little bit further down the line." Downie took a drink of her coffee.

Tw'eak smiled. "I like that idea. I might have to put together something."

"You paint?"

"Plasmonic sculpture," Tw'eak replied. "Something I learned on Vulcan."

"Of course - now I remember. You were also in musical theatre, in the Academy, were you not? Maybe we could put on a show."

"No - that... I mean, yes, a show, but please leave me out of it." Tw'eak raised a hand as if to stop an impact. "I'd much rather forget I was ever involved in that."

Downie smiled. "I think we all have things we'd rather never have done, never been involved with. I completely understand."

"Yeah. That's mine." She gave a quick smile. "There were a few people from that time I'd rather never have been involved with, too, but that's another story."

"Oh, very true, very true!" Downie nodded, her eyes vacant. "Although to be honest, I have more I'd rather have been involved with, than not."

"There is that," Tw'eak replied. "Commander Torgrove, from the Tecumseh. Completely missed my chance."

"You worked more closely with him than anyone else. He was interested?"

"I don't know if it matters - he's dead. I wonder - if I'd led the away mission, on the planet the Undine destroyed, maybe he would have made it out."

"Or maybe not. After all, the captain came home - maybe you wouldn't have." Downie shrugged, her eyes bright. "We'll never know."

"Yeah." Tw'eak felt a pang of remorse for Torgrove, and all those they had lost. "You know, it's funny, but - at the time, I was certain, absolutely certain, that Lieutenant Sonvak had been killed. I was monitoring the away teams on the bridge. He was dead. But then, when we were on the Tecumseh, you and I, just yesterday... there he was."

Downie finished her coffee. "Was he the tall Vulcan, kind of serious-looking?"

"He's a Vulcan," Tw'eak deadpanned. "They're all serious-looking."

"But the one on the bridge, I mean, with the intense face?"

"Yes, he's the security officer, and now the acting first officer." She gave Downie a curious look. "What'd you make of Captain Collins?"

"She seemed fine, very capable, professional... but sad, somehow. Now that I know she so recently lost her first officer, that makes sense. I'll have to see who Tecumseh has for a counselor. Someone ought to check in with her."

"She's going to be looking for a new first officer, you know," Tw'eak added.

"Are you - what does that mean?"

Tw'eak gave a little shrug. "Captain Collins hinted pretty strongly - remember? - that she wanted the 'right' kind of first officer. I had a feeling she had someone particular in mind."

"You mean - you do mean yourself." Downie shook her head. "Oh, no. The Commander Sh'abbas I know would scratch herself out of consideration right away."

"You're right. But still, if she's that keen on me, maybe I should consider taking her up on it."

"I think you'd be best to defer that decision until our investigation's completed."

"Oh, of course." Tw'eak put the barely-touched Vulcan spice tea back in the replicator, along with Downie's empty cup. "But it's going to become another one of those things that never gets resolved, at least, in my head. I can tell."

"How so?"

"Well, if I accept, move to the Tecumseh, then I leave unfinished business here, but move to a ship with a completely different mission, and with a captain and a crew who are... more my sort of officers, can I say?"

"That's charitable of you," Downie joked.

"Present company excepted, of course. But suppose I decline the offer. That means nothing changes. I'll still be under Captain Corlett's command, still have a lot of work to do here."

"Work that might be more suited to your particular training and skills, though." Downie gestured vaguely in the direction of the door. "I've heard several times from people how your presence on the bridge makes a difference to them."

"And it's the kind of difference I want to make here, for good, and not just for as long as I'm here. I don't like the idea of walking away from a job before it's done. Though, with the way life works aboard a starship, there's always something."

"Very true," Downie said with a smile. "So that's how 'it becomes one of those things'."

"Yeah. I get to have regrets, either way. What I should've done, what I shouldn't have done." Tw'eak shrugged. "I'd get those anyway. It's something they talked about in the command course - how once the decision's taken, even if it's a decision to not do anything, it has to stand as a decision that's made, and be accepted. Only revisit the decision if new information presents itself."

"You make a lot of decisions - crucial ones - when you're in command."

"They're also usually a bit more clear-cut, too," Tw'eak continued. "There are so many unknowns involved in any scenario - but a good crew helps you sort out the unknowns and put facts together. Dealing with other people, as crewmates - subordinate or otherwise - isn't something you really know, and I may, I don't know, come to have a total lack of confidence in Captain Collins. What then?"

"It seems more likely that the captain you lack confidence in is the one you're serving currently."

Tw'eak shook her head, pursing her lips. "Well, you're not wrong. How did he take the report you gave him?"

"It was like he was..." Downie stared off into the distance. "I don't know. I mean, I hope you don't mind me speaking up on this point."

"Not at all. I'm not going to go run and tell him."

Downie smiled. "You're not in any condition to run anywhere."

"Which is too bad - my legs are starting to feel it. I've been idle too long. I usually take a run to clear my head in the mornings, find a way to fit a few workouts into my week, but I haven't been able to for the past week, and it's starting to feel like it."

"Still, running requires a lot of movement, core strength, tension, things you're not going to be ready for yet."

"Can we get back to what you were about to say?" Tw'eak said sarcastically.

"Well, I was going to say that, in a situation like this, where junior crew members - not just the ones that come to me, either - are going to be apprehensive, even scared. You know how the rumour mill gets started on this ship, and with a murder to gossip about, there just... needs to be more of a direct presence. Not from you - from him. It's his ship. He should be the one offering reassurance and calming people down. Not only because it frees you up from doing that, and lets people see that you're investigating the matter."

"Did you tell him any of that?"

"I tried to, but he didn't seem to see my point. It's not the first time that's happened, but this time felt... more dismissive." Downie looked down at her hands. "Maybe it's just that we've never dealt with something like this before onboard, but I really wish I could get through to him, and ask him for more of a ...presence among the crew."

"I've seen how he interacts with them," Tw'eak quipped. "You may regret that."

"And that's another thing," Downie went on. "Isn't there a requirement - I mean, you do it all the time, showing concern for your people, for their well-being."

"I try to, but then, I do that because I've had senior officers who didn't care - and didn't care for it." Tw'eak shrugged. "Captain's going to be who he is." She shook her head and chuckled. "Damn. Look at us, like a couple of junior ranks, complaining about the captain."

"I'd say it's a bit of a different matter when we do it," Downie replied. "Still, it is nice to have someone who I don't have to worry about talking to about all this."

"And I'd say it's nice to have someone who's willing to listen," Tw'eak said, smiling. "I want you to know that I've appreciated everything you've done for me, in helping me recover from this. I've also been very glad to have you along during all this investigation work."

"See? That's what I'm talking about," Downie joked. "Genuine concern - and appreciation. How do you get it, and the captain doesn't?"

"That's for him to explain. Maybe I'm just overcompensating."

Tw'eak's commbadge chirped to life. "Baird to Sh'abbas. Come in, please."

Downie raised both eyebrows. Tw'eak's antennae stood on end. The lieutenant's tone sounded intense, full of concern. The mood changed between them, sharply. Tw'eak tapped her commbadge. "Sh'abbas here."

"Commander, I'm going to need you and Counselor Downie to meet me on Deck Five, Section 12."

Tw'eak looked at Downie. "The counselor's with me presently, Lieutenant. We'll be right down. Is anything the matter?"

"Yes - of the sort you've asked we not discuss on comms."

Tw'eak took Baird's coded meaning - the investigation. "You're up early to continue working on that."

"Not 'continue', ma'am," Baird said solemnly. "There's been a second incident."

Downie's eyes widened in alarm, and she and Tw'eak stared at each other intently. "We'll be right down," Tw'eak said, closing her eyes in a pained expression. "Sh'abbas out."