Declassified

“Captain,” Brzezinski said, “the Chech’Iw’s tactical systems are coming on line! Shields up, weapons arming—”

“And we are prepared to defend them.”

3

2268

“I don’t know what went wrong,”Captain Hallie Ga

“The worst thing is, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. Every decision they’ve made is totally within their rights. It’s their planet. They opted to go independent, and if they want as little contact with Starfleet as possible without even explaining why, we just have to live with it.”

“Computer, pause playback,” Desai ordered, making a notation on her data slate. She set down her stylus and rubbed her weary eyes, thinking she really should have allowed herself more than six hours of sleep last night.

She had wasted little time getting to work after she and Fisher boarded the Endeavour.First Officer Katherine Stano, a youthful lieutenant commander, met them as they came through the airlock, just seconds before the shipwide command came down from the bridge to seal all external hatches in final preparation for the vessel’s departure. Stano went through the standard formalities of welcoming them aboard, reviewing the facilities and services available to them during the two-day voyage to the Kadru system, and then proceeded to escort them to their individual quarters on Deck 7 of the Constitution-class starship.

Desai didn’t even bother to unpack. She settled immediately at the cabin’s workstation, accessed the ship’s secure network, and found her mission file waiting in her temporary database. She spent most of the next thirty hours immersed in reports on Kadru, the colony, and its population; Starfleet Command’s recommendation to redraw its patrol routes in the Taurus Reach; a transcript of the Federation Council’s deliberation of the matter as well as the resolution to uproot the colonies named in Command’s recommendation; historical precedents for colonial relocation; recordings of Miller’s communications with Governor Ying; and the relevant logs of the starship that, three years ago, had assisted in establishing the New Anglesey colony: the U.S.S. Bombay.

Her cabin’s buzzer sounded. She called out, “Come in,” and Fisher entered carrying an oversized tray with several covered plates, a teapot, and a small vase of flowers.

“What’s this?” Desai asked.

“Afternoon tea,” Fisher answered, as if the question surprised him. He set the tray down on top of her desk, and she barely got her data cards out from under it in time.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, Fish, but I’m really too busy to—”

“Who said it was for you?”

She tilted her head to one side. “Right. What are you doing here, then?”

“I was temporarily evicted from my quarters,” Fisher said, starting to uncover the plates. “Glitch in the climate control. I’ve got fog. Mm, these look good.” On one plate were stacks of small sandwiches: some salmon, some cucumber; on another, scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream.

“Fog?” Desai asked, trying to ignore the fact that her mouth was suddenly watering.

“Yeah, can you believe it? The chief engineer said half the compartments in my corridor are affected. They just need a couple of hours to sort it out.”

Hours. Wonderful.“Fish, I’ve got a ton of prep I need to finish—”

“So do it. You won’t even know I’m here,” he said, pushing the tray deeper into her workspace. “Does that slate need to be there?”

Sighing, Desai moved the device safely out of the way.

Fisher took the lid off the teapot, releasing a cloud of aromatic steam. He leaned into it, breathing deeply. “Ahh . . . Darjeeling. It’s too bad you’re so busy, this is almost more than I can—”

“Shut up and pour me a cup, already.”

The doctor smiled. “Happy to. Mugs?”

“Behind you.”

“Help yourself to a sandwich or three,” Fisher said as he went to retrieve a pair of mugs from a shelf in the back wall. While he poured, Desai filled plates for both of them.

“Where’d you get all this?” Desai asked. “And don’t tell me it came from a food slot.”

Fisher pulled the cabin’s lounge chair closer to the desk. “While you’ve been barricaded in here, I’ve been making friends. Happened to mention to a nice fellow in the galley how much I used to enjoy afternoon tea and . . . voilà!” With a playful flourish, Zeke produced a shot glass candle from somewhere, gave the bottom a sharp tap to ignite it, and set it between them.

Desai smiled in spite of herself. “Nice touch.”

“My wife always thought so,” Fisher said as he sat down.

“Afternoon tea was a tradition for you two?” Desai brought her mug to her lips, inhaling the steam through her nose before sipping. It was exquisite.

Fisher smiled and picked up a sandwich. “You could call it a tradition, I suppose. It’s what I always did when I needed to apologize for something.”

Desai laughed, then stopped as she realized the subtext of Fisher’s answer. “Wait. You think you need to apologize to me?”

“Do I?” he asked.

She set down her mug and sighed. “If I’ve given you reason to wonder, Zeke, maybe I’m the one who ought to apologize. I know I’ve been—”

“Rana, stop,” Fisher said. “Don’t you dare say another word. I didn’t mean to guilt you into unburdening yourself. I just wanted to spend some time with a friend I’ve seen far too little of the last few months. I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through right now. This thing with Diego . . .” He paused and then continued with a chuckle, “Hell, I’ll just say it: anydamn thing with Diego is enough to drive a person crazy, even someone who’s known him as long as I have.”

Desai had the absurd impulse to laugh even as she wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. Fisher’s kind brown face, all crow’s feet and silver whiskers, radiated a tenderness that was unconditional and free of judgment.

“But if the time comes when you need a friend to lean on, you know I’ll be here for you, right?”

She reached out and placed her hand atop his. “Right.” Her voice sounded hoarse in her ears. “Thank you, Fish.”

He waved away her gratitude. “Drink your tea. You’ll feel better.”

Desai arched a black eyebrow at him over the brim of her mug. “There’s no fog in your quarters, is there?”

“I’m invoking the Seventh Guarantee.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They ate in companionable silence for a while, then started swapping memories of Aole. Zeke had several fu

“Well,” Fisher said at last, rising to his feet. “I know you have work to do, so I’m just go

“This was nice, Zeke,” Desai said sincerely. “I didn’t realize just how much I needed the break. Thank you.”

Fisher finished loading up the tray and lifted it off her desk. “It was my pleasure. So I guess I’ll see you tonight?”

“Tonight?”

Fisher froze in place. “I forgot to mention Captain Khatami’s di

“You’re telling me this now?” She cast an exasperated glance at the time displayed on her slate. “It’s sixteen-thirty! When are we expected?”

“Nineteen hundred, in the captain’s mess.”