Precipice

“Are you all right?” she asked, wincing with embarrassment as she kneeled beside him. “I didn’t think I hit it that hard …”

“It’s fine,” Jackson said. “I was pla

She nodded. “I have. And I’m sorry to say I think he’s right. Most of it is completely inadmissible.”

Sitting up slowly, Jackson grimaced with discomfort and disappointment. “I guess that means we can’t even use it to issue warrants to look for evidence that isn’ttainted.”

“Afraid not,” she said. “You and ch’Nayla can use it as a guide to update the station’s security protocols, but as far as using it for evidence, it’s worthless.”

He pulled his hand across his upper lip and wiped away a trickle of blood ru

“Any time.” She waved her racquet at the front wall. “Ready? That last serve’s a mulligan.”

Jackson shook his head. “No, thanks. You cleaned my clock in the first game, and you’re two aces from handing me my hat in this one.” He pulled off his protective eyewear. “I can tell when I’m beat.”

Desai followed him as he walked off the court. “Don’t talk like that. I know you’re upset about the Malaccainvestigation, but that’s just how things go sometimes.”

“I’m not in the habit of accepting mass murder, arson, and terrorism as an example of ‘Just how things go,’ ” he said, pushing open the door of the court. He turned and passed other courts on his way to the men’s locker room. “Fifty-two people died in that attack. On my watch. And while we spend our time worrying about rules of evidence, they spend their time finding new ways to rob our ships and kill our people.”

It was hard for Desai to keep pace with Jackson, whose stride was much longer than hers, but she was doing her best. “Haniff, don’t you think I want to see Zett and his accomplices put away for life? The rules piss me off, too, but in the end they work in our favor by making our cases as strong as they can be.” She caught his arm before he entered the locker room and made him turn to face her. “I promise you, I won’t stop until I see him convicted in a fair and open trial.”

“How?” Jackson replied. “Nothing we get on this guy ever sticks. Short of him giving you a full, unsolicited confession, how do you plan on bringing him to trial?”

She folded her arms and looked away. “I don’t know.” Meeting his accusatory glare, she added, “But unlike some people, I won’t quit before the game’s over.”

The challenge implicit in her remark made him smile. “You really want to earn those last two points, eh?”

“No,” she said, jabbing him playfully with her racquet. “I want youto makeme earn them.”

He admired her spirit. “All right,” he said, waving her back toward the court. “Let’s go finish this.” She led the way, and he put his eyewear back on. “You know, if you took cheap shots like that at the bad guys, we might’ve put a few more of them in jail.” When she frowned at him, he added, “Just sayin’.”

She opened the door to the court and waved him inside. “And if your hands were as quick as your mouth, that ball might not have hit you in the face.”

“Touché.” He set himself into a ready stance on the right half of the court while Desai strolled confidently back to the service zone. He called out, “Before you serve … ?” She turned back, and he continued. “I just want to say I’m sorry for going all negative on you. This case just has me feeling like I’ve been hitting my head against a brick wall for months, know what I mean? To be so close and watch it slip away makes me crazy sometimes.” He shook his head. “All I’ve wanted to do for the past year was bring the people behind the bombing to justice. Is that really so much to ask?”

Desai offered him a bittersweet smile. “I wish I knew what to tell you. On some level I believe in karma. If Zett was the one who bombed the Malacca,or part of a conspiracy to make it happen, then I like to think he’ll get what’s coming to him, either in this life or the next.” Walking back toward Jackson, she continued, “There’s an old saying: ‘The arc of the universe bends toward justice.’ You need to have faith in that, Haniff.” She stopped in front of him. “Our duty is to serve the truth first, and we do that by obeying the law. Leave justice to the universe.”

Then she reached up, grabbed his shirt collar with one hand, and pulled him down into a long, torrid kiss. When she released him, he was short of breath, and he felt dizzy from the sudden rush of blood away from his brain. She gave him a playful shove. “Now get your head back in the game, Lieutenant.”

He blinked and tried to focus on something other than Desai’s derriere as she strutted back to the service zone.

She lifted her racquet, called out, “Thirteen serving six,” and dropped the ball. He saw it bounce once. He heard her racquet make contact.

A red streak caromed off the front wall. A shallow bounce several meters to his left made him lunge and flail to make a backhand return shot. His racquet sliced at empty air.

He landed on his face.

“Fourteen–six,” Desai said with a triumphant grin.

“I hate this game,” Jackson said.

July 31, 2267

A chirping comm woke Rana Desai from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes to near-total darkness inside her quarters and hoped she had merely dreamed the beeping tone that a

Desai stifled a groan and pushed aside her bed covers. She picked up her soft cotton bathrobe from the floor and wrapped it around her naked body as she got up. Tying shut her robe, she padded out of her bedroom to the main room of her quarters and slipped into the chair behind her desk.

She silenced the comm alert before it could shrill again, then activated her desktop monitor. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, a familiar face appeared on-screen.

It was T’Pry

Shock put an edge on Desai’s whispered reply. “T’Pry

“It is urgent that I speak privately with you,”said T’Pry

In no mood to be manipulated by the former intelligence officer, Desai said, “You’re facing charges ranging from tampering with Starfleet medical records to going AWOL. The only conversation I’m willing to have with you is the one in which you surrender yourself to Starfleet.”

“I think you should make an exception in this case,”T’Pry

“Then you’ve contacted the wrong person,” Desai said. “You should be talking to your successor, Commander ch’Nayla.” With mocking sweetness, she asked, “Should I transfer you?”

Unfazed by Desai’s challenges, T’Pry

“Tempting,” Desai said. “Surrender yourself and we can talk about it in detail for as long as you’d like.”