"Hazelnut," the captain said, holding her mug.

"Hazelnut?" her first officer repeated.

"I have asked the replicator for hazelnut coffee for seven years. It finally got it right."

"That would be Lieutenant Keegan's work," Chakotay said. "B'Elanna told me he went through the Computer Core and Engineering and rebuilt every system he could. Warp efficiency has improved eight percent. Power systems, replicators, the holodeck, almost everything has improved. After Engineering, he went to the Science Department. He finished about three months' worth of work."

"Quite a turnaround," Janeway said.

"How did the debate go?"

"He lost me several times. I think only B'Elanna and Seven understood all of it."

"Do you still want that information from Starfleet?"

She nodded. "More than ever. I can't believe he would want to hide this much potential."

"Has he been drinking?"

"Not since that night."

Chakotay examined his coffee. "The same day you tried to access his files."

"I noticed that too."

Chakotay said, "I asked Tuvok to review some of Mister Keegan's stories. He found no report of a Kazon severely injuring the Lieutenant. He always showed exceptional skill in combat."

Kathryn nodded again. She looked out her window, imagining she could see Earth and Reg Barclay preparing his wormhole. "We'll know by this afternoon."

The door to Philip Keegan's quarters buzzed.

"Come in," he said.

"Lieutenant?" the captain said.

He looked up from a console. A model of a Starship was sitting next to him. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I was walking past, and I realized I'd never seen your quarters."

"Where were you headed?"

She shook her head. "Sometimes I hate that mind of yours."

"I get a lot of that. How can I help you?"

She walked to an easel and lifted a cloth off the canvas. "Yours?"

"I've been trying to paint. I find it technically accurate, but it lacks emotion."

"It's very good. I see you play the violin."

"I play nine instruments. I'm just now learning the Vulcan harp."

"How do you find it?" she said.

"It's designed mostly for meditation. Good for certain types of music, but not very versatile."

She picked up two books. "Plato. The Rubaiyat. In their original texts? That must be difficult."

"I never read translations. It's something my grandfather taught me. They're always tainted by interpretation, even if you use the Universal Translator."

"Do you read many languages?" she asked.

"Seventeen. I'm learning Vulcan now, so I can read Surak."

"Not many people learn Vulcan as a hobby."

"I like a challenge," he replied.

"I've noticed that." She looked around the room, at the artwork, the Starship on his desk. Two other ships rested on a shelf on his wall. "You design Starships?"

"Another hobby."

"Interesting designs. What are they?"

He pointed to each in turn. "The Rodriquez, a battleship. The Lin, a medical frigate. The MacPherson, exploration. I named them for some cousins of mine."

"That's a diverse family."

"Yes, it is."

"The warp configuration doesn't prevent damage to sub-space," she commented.

"There's no reason to. I read the account of that. I think the researcher was paranoid, too obsessed with her own work. By conservative estimate, this galaxy has had warp capable civilizations for a billion years. If the deterioration were as extreme as Serova claimed, it would be one solid anomaly core to rim. The simple answer is sub-space repairs itself. In case I'm wrong, the Lin has a system in it to facilitate repair of sub-space rather than eliminate damage."

"Does it work?"

"Yes, but it reduces maximum speed to Warp two point five. But, I just started on it. I'll need time to work out the bugs."

She examined the ship. Four engines, asymmetric in design and placement. It had a beauty to it.

"We could send your work to Starfleet."

"I don't think they'll want it. They should concentrate on transwarp. I suspect that bypasses the problem entirely."

"Why wouldn't they want it?"

"Just a hunch, Captain. Why did you want to see me?"

"We're about to make the data transfer. I was wondering if I could send your analysis of the Unclaimed Thesis."

"Certainly, Captain."

"Thank you." She walked to the door. "Mister Keegan?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Should I look for anything from home?"

"My family is very hard to reach," he said.

"Of course. Good-day, Lieutenant."

"Captain. It was nice speaking with you."

She nodded and walked out.

"Phil!" Lieutenant Hununga said. "Where are you headed in such a hurry?"

"Lisa. I just have some work to do."

"Today's the big day. Data transfer. Expecting anything important?"

"One or two things. Lisa, there's something I've wanted to do." He took her by the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her. He took his time with it, cupping the back of her head and memorizing the scent of her hair.

"Wow. Phil." She put her hand on his chest. "Dinner later?"

"If I'm able. You never know what the day will bring."

"Here's hoping it brings more of that."

He sighed and raised his hands. "I've got to go." He left at a good pace.

"Captain?" Reginald Barclay said, his voice a hollow buzz in the wormhole. "Are you certain you want that information?"

"Yes, Mister Barclay."

"Instead of the letters from your family?"

"Yes, Reg."

"And Mister Tuvok and Mister Chakotay have agreed?"

"Yes, Reg, and you're eating up the time."

"The information will be transferred directly to your desk. Are you sure? It would save space going to the Computer Core."

"I'm sure."

"Yes, Captain. Beginning transfer."

Her screen changed to a list of names, all Keegan, all students at MIT. She read down the list. The first was in his forties. Not a Philip, but just old enough to be the Lieutenant's father. She wanted to stop there. The first Philip Keegan was in his eighties and retired. His whereabouts easily verified. She read farther down the list, stopping after two centuries of names passed and sighing to herself. Philip Keegan was not two centuries old. Enough, she thought. Too much. She wanted to keep her good officer. She skimmed the rest files while wondering how best to tell her First Officer he was right. She stopped when she found an early twenty-first century file marked "Restricted".

"Computer, who closed this file?"

"Access to that information was restricted by the United Nations in the year two-thousand and six."

"Who is authorized to open the file?" Janeway said.

"A Starfleet officer of captain's rank or higher in time of emergency."

Do what is right for your ship. The voices of her father and every captain she served under repeated in her mind. "Authorization: Janeway, Kathryn, alpha-seven-nine-four-one-two."

"Access granted."

She read over the file. "Keegan, Philip, applied in nineteen eighty-six at age thirteen, graduated age sixteen, applied Master's Program, age sixteen, graduated age eighteen, entered doctoral program age eighteen, never finished. Disappeared age nineteen. Notes to follow." She read on. Accomplishments, papers, family history were all missing, deleted with large blank gaps filling the file. She reached the final notes and paused at the source. "United Nations War Crimes Tribunal?" she read. "'Access to this file is restricted pending determination of—' Oh, my god. Computer! Intruder alert!" She ran to the bridge.

"Captain?" Tuvok said. "I am detecting no intruder."

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Keegan."

"Unable to comply."

"Captain," Tom said. "I'm showing a launch of the Delta Flyer."

"Pursuit course, Mister Paris," she growled. "Maximum warp."

"What did that file say?" Chakotay asked.

"Mister Paris, why isn't my ship moving?"

"Impulse engines and warp core are off-line," he replied.

"Weapons, shields and sensors are also off-line," Tuvok said.

"Turbolifts are off-line," Harry said. "Communications are being jammed. All systems are powering down. We still have life support."

The lights went out. They stood in silence in the red of the alarm until the auxiliary lights came on.

"Harry, Seven," the captain said. "I want you in Engineering. Fill B'Elanna in. Help out where you can. Chakotay, Tom, go through the rest of the ship. Form parties, no less than four people each. Make sure everyone has phasers set to heavy stun. Find out if Mister Keegan is still on board. Orders are to shoot on sight. If he is rendered unconscious, get backup. Do not approach him under any circumstances. Tuvok, you're with me. We're going to the Shuttle Bay to see if any are still working. Let's move."

"Captain," Chakotay said. "it would help if we knew what Mister Keegan has done."

"It's not what he's done." The words ground in her throat. "It's what he is. Everyone, you have your orders." She walked to the access ladder before they could respond.

They were three levels down before Tuvok spoke.

"Captain," he said. "What exactly is Mister Keegan?"

"You'd never believe me."

"You know that is not true, Captain."

"Consider Mister Keegan one of the most dangerous enemies to come aboard this ship."

"You are hindering my abilities. I must ask why."

"Have you ever wanted something to not be true?"

"I am a Vulcan," he replied.

"I'm not."

Tuvok nodded slowly.

They took a direct route to the Shuttle Bay, stopping only to give orders to any crew members they met. They found the Bay doors locked.

"Can you get them open?" Janeway said.

"I believe so, Captain."

The security officer pulled of the main access panel and worked through the circuits trying to find the still active life support line. He reconnected three wires and the doors opened enough for one person to slide through sideways.

"Captain, I believe I should go first." He pulled out his phaser and started through. He looked around and yelled, "Captain!"

A hand grabbed Tuvok's tunic and pulled. He flew some fifteen meters and hit the floor rolling. When he swung around with his weapon, he was struck by a phaser blast. Two more shots and the Vulcan stopped moving. Janeway turned and ran, and hit a security force field.

"Captain?" Keegan said.

She turned around, her weapon drawn, and felt the shot. Her arm went numb, and she dropped her phaser.

"I'll stun you if I have to. I'd rather not."

"Tuvok?"

"Is alive but unconscious. I have no intention of killing anyone."

"You understand," she said. "That's difficult to believe."

"I understand it better than you," he said. "Into the Shuttle Bay, please."

"I won't order the ship or its crew to help you in any way. Chakotay will assume command. Any orders I issue will be ignored."

"Captain," Keegan said. "I just want you to come into the Shuttle Bay and sit down."

"Why?"

"Don't you want answers to your questions?"

The doors to the Shuttle Bay were now wide open. She walked past him slowly, watching his phaser. She stepped through the doors and saw the Flyer in its usual spot. Tuvok had landed near it. His phaser was next to him.

"I see it too," Keegan said. "My eyesight is excellent. Step around it, walk to one of the chairs and have a seat."

She walked to the chairs and saw they had arm and leg locks.

"Sit down. You know what this is for."

She sat down. He was right behind her. He locked her in place as soon as she was in the chair. She was able to turn to see him pick up Tuvok, carry him to a chair and lock him in. She could hear Tuvok breathing quietly. Keegan walked in front of both of them. He wore an eyepiece for a virtual screen. He looked at it often.

"What are you going to do to us?" Janeway asked.

"Let you go, as soon as I've told my side of the story."

"Why don't you let us go now?"

"People in a position of power don't need to listen," he explained. "Right now, you're hanging on every word."

"And then what?"

"I go to the brig and hope the crew doesn't lynch me."

She leaned forward. "Is that what this last week was? Helping everyone so they wouldn't be afraid of you?"

"No, it was my last meal. That was the last time I would be welcomed by your crew."

"We gave you a home," she said.

"As soon as you found out what I was, you wanted to take it away."

"You lied," she said. "You falsified records. You manipulated the computer system."

"You knew all of that eleven days ago, and you were ready to promote me. I can do this as long as you can, Captain, but you won't get your answers."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

He held up a hypospray. "Mister Tuvok. I'm sure he'd want to be a part of this. Don't worry, it's just a stimulant." He put the hypo to Tuvok's neck and fired. The Vulcan winced and opened his eyes.

"Captain, are you all right?" Tuvok said.

"So far. He's awake, Mister Keegan. Would you like to explain yourself?"

"It would help if I knew what Mister Keegan was," the Vulcan said.

"Keeping all the best secrets for yourself, Captain?" the lieutenant said.

"I thought people might have trouble with it. How did you get here, Mister Keegan?" Kathryn said.

"The same way you did, Captain. The Caretaker."

"That doesn't explain it," she replied.

"Captain?" Tuvok asked.

"Records indicate Philip Keegan, a nineteen-year-old graduate student at MIT, disappeared in nineteen ninety-two. Whereabouts unknown," she said.

"The Caretaker sent out probes and collected samples," Keegan explained.

"And you were the sample from Earth?" Tuvok said.

"Me, and a hump-backed whale. I was curious about that one for a while."

"Why you?" Janeway said harshly.

"As a guess," Keegan said. "I'd say samples were selected based on their ability to survive the trip back."

Tuvok spoke without a reaction. "The healthiest human the probe could find in that time frame was a eugenic."

Phil nodded. "From the very last group. We were different."

"How so?" Tuvok said.

Keegan said, "The scientists recognized the need for emotional development. They looked at it as a portion of the equation they had not previously considered. My generation had morality. We even wanted to help humanity. We sometimes succeeded." He glanced at the captain.

"What happened to them?" Tuvok asked.

"The other eugenics killed them before taking power," he said. "At least, the records seem to indicate that."

"Is that why you didn't return to them when we visited your era?" the Vulcan said.

"No, I couldn't find them," Keegan said. "Believe me, I looked, but Earth was nothing like I remembered it. You're right, though. Khan would have killed me. I also felt a sense of responsibility. After all, I'm the reason you're here. I guess I made humanity look promising."

"You're an abomination," the captain said.

"Me, and half your crew, Captain. And every Vulcan, Mister Tuvok."

"Vulcans have never engaged in selective breeding," Tuvok said.

"No," Keegan replied. "They were a eugenic race deposited on Vulcan hundreds of thousands of years ago. I've read the records."

"And where is the race that deposited us?" Tuvok asked.

"I don't know," Keegan said. "But they were last seen in white globes about so big."

"That story is refuted," Tuvok said.

"Because of the ramifications, not the accuracy," Keegan countered. "I've examined the environment on Vulcan. It's extreme, but not enough to produce a race like yours. Even if it were, it wouldn't explain why Romulans have identical traits."

"I am not certain of the accuracy of your statements," the Vulcan replied.

"As you wish, Mister Tuvok."

"Half my crew?" Janeway said.

He looked up. "They're outside the door. Chakotay is a good First Officer."

"What will you do when they open the door?" Tuvok asked.

"Nothing," the lieutenant said. "They have to shoot through you to get to me. If they try, the Delta Flyer will fire at them. Phasers are set to stun. I wonder why Starships stopped doing that?"

"We'll warn them," Janeway said.

"I want you to. I don't want to hurt them."

"You didn't answer my question," the captain said.

"Sorry, I was distracted." He rubbed his eyes. "Seven years, I only regret one thing. I didn't tell you who I was at the beginning. You would have feared me, put me in the brig, realized there was little I could do and let me out. By now, I'd be as much a part of the crew as anyone."

"Why didn't you?" Kathryn asked.

"I read the history reports first. At the time, I didn't know how tolerant the Federation could be. When I learned my mistake, I didn't want to go through that period where the crew hated and feared me. I like it here." He checked his display again.

Tuvok watched him closely. "'Help humanity.' The Unclaimed Thesis is yours," Tuvok said.

Keegan laughed. "Your scientists had a lot of our papers. Most were claimed by others who never had the talent to write them. The more honorable scribbled 'Anonymous' where the name should be. I guess Cochrane never got around to that."

"It's yours?" Janeway said.

"Why hide the source?" Tuvok asked.

"Eugenics wrote them," Keegan replied. "They were tainted. Instead of the truth, you called us 'the Anonymous Einsteins'."

"What?" the captain said. "Which ones?"

"All of them. I could tell you the author of each paper, and the real author of each stolen paper. Mine are sixteen, eighty-seven and a hundred and fourteen."

"My god," she said. "I wrote a paper on eighty-seven."

"I know. I liked it. You found a lot of mistakes I never noticed."

"How much does the Federation owe the eugenics?" Tuvok asked.

The bay doors opened. Chakotay and five security officers rushed in.

"Stop!" Janeway said. "The Flyer is programmed to fire on you."

"That would put a hole in the ship," Chakotay said.

"Relax," Keegan said. "It's set to stun."

"Point your weapons at the ground," Janeway ordered. She heard the movement behind her. "You have two questions to you, Mister Keegan."

"Yes. About a third of the discoveries in the twenty-first century, Mister Tuvok. Captain, Starfleet Academy."

"What?" Janeway said.

"Captain, what is he?" Chakotay asked.

"Starfleet Academy, Captain," Keegan continued. "One of the finest eugenic breeding programs I've ever seen. Take the most intelligent, the most physically fit, the most emotionally stable and put them into dangerous situations which necessarily weed out the unfit. Those that are left, the officers that have proven themselves, develop relationships with other officers. The children they produce almost always return to Starfleet. The possibility of new blood prevents stagnation. A perfect cycle with none of the resulting arrogance."

"Captain—" Chakotay said.

"Yes, Commander," Keegan declared. "That is what I am."

"What do we do, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

The captain growled, "Mister Keegan, you made me a promise."

"Yes, Captain," he said. "Computer, protocol whitewash, authorization, Keegan, alpha zero one."

The locks on the chairs opened. The lights turned on, the ship's systems came back online. Keegan dropped his phaser and put his hands up.

"Put your hands down," the captain said. "Tuvok, you will take Mister Keegan to the brig. I don't think he'll struggle."

"Yes, Captain."

"Phil?" Kathryn said.

"Yes?"

"Your people did a lot of things," she told him.

"I grew up with them. I know what they were like. That's why I was afraid of your reaction. I can't say you disappointed me."

"Heat of the moment," she said.

"Shoot on sight?" he asked.

She tilted her head, and he nodded to her comm badge.

"Have you written anything since coming to Voyager?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Can I read it?"

"Every bit of it."

She nodded to Tuvok. As promised, Keegan didn't struggle.

"What are you going to tell Starfleet?" Chakotay asked. He had asked her several times the previous day.

The captain continued to read while occasionally picking up a piece of egg or sausage.

"Kathryn?"

"Have you read any of them?" she said.

"Some. I haven't gotten all the way through one yet."

"He compiled statistics about the eugenic development of the average Starfleet officer," the captain said.

"Starfleet didn't plan it that way. We're not like them."

"I know." She handed him the statistics. "But, that's not the question, is it?"